‘Two years ago we talked, quite seriously, of the danger of our monetary system collapsing because of over-extension,’ said Bell, advancing an argument he knew to be weak before he spoke.
It was Railton who seized it. ‘Which was two years ago!’ he said. ‘Since which time the international financial system has worked more smoothly than it ever has before. Brazil is coming out of the hole: so’s Mexico. Even Argentina, through its trade dealings with Russia, is paying on time now.’
‘Is the policy of this administration complete isolationism?’ demanded Belcher.
Bell gazed around at the men before him, aware that every one of them in the conference room overlooking Lafayette Park had alternative and powerful access to the President. And that they’d use it, if they hadn’t already. He’d tried, he decided; maybe it couldn’t be reckoned as much more than a token effort, but at least he’d made it. To Volger he said, ‘What do you think it would take?’
‘A percentage point and a half would bring us into line with most of the rates in Europe,’ said the Federal Reserve chairman. ‘That’s what I want to make it.’
‘It’s a lot,’ said Bell.
‘No, it’s not,’ protested William Jeynes from Citibank. ‘It’s good competitive adjustment.’
‘It would cause a run against the dollar,’ insisted the Treasury Secretary.
‘A hiccup, nothing more,’ insisted Belcher. ‘It would settle in weeks.’
‘What if you don’t get the business?’ asked Bell.
‘With the right rates, we’ll get the business,’ said Mewsom positively. He nodded towards the Bank of America chairman. ‘Alan’s right; at the moment we’re crippled by the rates.’
Bell was a proud man who’d come to enjoy Washington, even if he despised some of the compromises of politics. He didn’t want to leave it yet; certainly not as the result of a cabinet reshuffle that would reflect upon his ability. A lost battle didn’t mean a lost war, merely a retreat and a regrouping. He needed someone with whom to discuss another strategy. He smiled around the table at the assembled bankers, with no intention of appearing to capitulate to the arguments of a single conference. ‘I take your points, gentlemen. There’s a cabinet meeting scheduled for Monday. You’ve my undertaking that I’ll raise it then.’
In addition to the opinions and assessments provided by Volger, Bell was backed by a large structure of permanent financial officials with analysis and advisory functions, but from experience he knew that a report would take weeks to prepare. He was aware of the bankers’ impatience and that he didn’t have weeks. And he didn’t want a flat, reasoned exposition anyway. He wanted an unbiased, authoratitive assessment from someone with the proper international perspective.
The managing director of the IMF was an American and a former Wall Street banker, thought Bell. So was the chairman of the World Bank. Unorthodox, perhaps: but not unheard of. He wrote the names on a desk jotter, staring down at them. Marginally he knew Amberson better than Pike but neither well enough to gauge their reactions to an approach: whether they’d be offended, considering it an indiscretion. Bell sat undecided for a long time; as he did so he remembered the younger Pike, the Federal analyst who’d been the first to isolate the Soviet behaviour. With his father now, at the IMF: and Pike senior lived in Washington.
Pike was surprised to get the call at the Fauquier country house from the man he intended to replace, momentarily at a loss. From his end Bell interpreted the hesitation as offence, hurrying his explanation to reassure the other man. Pike let Bell talk, considering advantage against disadvantage. Had Bell learned of the manoeuvres against himself, initiating some counter-attack with this direct approach? A possibility. But a vague one. Direct confrontation wasn’t the way of Washington, even from someone as inept as Bell. And the uncertainty appeared genuine, despite the telephone. Certainly, he decided, a situation to be explored. Saturday was convenient, he agreed: the Army and Navy Club would be fine.
The Treasury Secretary reiterated the attempted reassurance, the moment they met. ‘This is completely unofficial, of course,’ he said.
Until I choose to make it otherwise, thought Pike. ‘Of course,’ he said.
‘Just an exchange of views between bankers.’
‘Just an exchange of views,’ agreed Pike. He’d let the other man make the running; that way he’d tire first.
On their way through the wood-lined halls, past the glass-encased models of ships, Pike exchanged greetings with two senators and was recognized by a third in the first-floor dining-room. He was pleased at the prospect of stories circulating afterwards.
‘I want to make some sort of recommendation by Monday,’ said Bell after they had been seated, continuing his explanation. ‘Normal channels are too slow.’
When the moment was opportune, the fact that Bell sat like a nervous virgin with his hands between his knees instead of reacting immediately to what was happening in the rest of the world would be an important accusation. ‘I’ll help all I can,’ promised Pike. And help myself more, he thought.
‘You’ve monitors, world-wide?’ said Bell.
‘Naturally,’ said Pike. Since he’d been in Europe, Tom had kept his finger on a lot of developments: it was a hell of a comfort, having a son as able as he was.
‘Are we being left out?’ demanded Bell.
‘Undoubtedly,’ said Pike. ‘The borrowing is world-wide, with the exception of America.’
‘Just because of the rates?’
‘What else?’ shrugged Pike. There was only one logical direction in which America could go: he’d have to make it quite clear that he was the man who pointed the way, not Bell.
‘What’s the assessment of total loans being raised?’
‘Best estimate is something like $300,000,000,000,’ said Pike. ‘It’s impossible to be precise, of course.’
‘It’s a hell of a lot of money, even at $300,000,000,000.’
‘It’s a hell of a lot of business,’ said Pike.
‘What about repayments?’
Pike decided that the other man was a clerk. Bankers – proper bankers – weren’t clerks. Proper bankers and financiers were entrepreneurs. ‘You know that at the end of ’82 we increased our Special Drawing Right quotas and our General Arrangement to Borrow fund,’ he said. ‘It stands now at $120,000,000,000. We did it because of the $500,000,000,000 Third World debt, particularly in Latin America and South Korea. Since the Soviet turn-around, we haven’t needed it. Argentina is paying on every due date, and Brazil and Mexico have accepted our conditionally, despite the deflation that is involved: there’s a confidence now about world banking that hasn’t been around for years, even from the time before I joined the IMF. We’ve removed Romania from suspension, and they haven’t gone ahead with a moratorium on 1983 debts. Hungary belongs to the IMF and so does Poland. We’ve access to their finances: they look pretty good to me.’
He was offering the man no information that wasn’t available in any financial journal, so there was no problem with discretion. The problem was Bell’s, in making the approach in the first place.
‘Do you think the policy is wrong, keeping money dear?’
‘I think it was a very successful policy: one that’s worked. Now I think it’s time to adjust. It’s ludicrous for a country like America not to be involved.’ Pike paused, for effect. ‘It could even be argued that the Soviets were ridiculing us by keeping us out.’ The last point occurred to Pike as he spoke but he thought it was a good one; certainly something to be included in the stories he intended to initiate throughout the capital. Henry Jordan wasn’t a President to accept ridicule from Russia.
‘Is there any indication that the Eastern bloc wants any further funding?’ said Bell.
The Treasury Secretary was practically running scared now, decided Pike. ‘None,’ he said, wanting to increase the other man’s unease. ‘It would be unfortunate, wouldn’t it, if we missed out because of a policy not adjusted in sufficient time?’ Another ang
le for the stories if the rates were dropped but no loans taken up. Pike decided he couldn’t lose, either way.
‘I think there’s got to be a reduction in the rate,’ said Bell, as if he were announcing an uninfluenced policy decision. ‘I think I should tell Volger to go ahead.’
‘I think it would be wise,’ said Pike.
‘I’m grateful for your thoughts,’ said Bell.
‘We’re on the same side, surely?’
‘I didn’t embarrass you, suggesting we should meet?’
‘Not at all,’ assured Pike. The embarrassment wouldn’t be his, he thought.
The luncheon bill was placed between them and instinctively Pike reached out to sign it. Bell snatched ahead of the other man. ‘It was me who invited you,’ he said. ‘I’m the one who’s benefited from the meeting.’
The guidance for the lowering of the interest rates came, as it had to, from the Federal Reserve and the Chase Manhattan were the first to move because of their previous loan arrangement with Poland. They headed a consortium of five United States banks, with the additional involvement of Barclays and National Westminster in England, in a $60,000,000 loan to Warsaw. The other American banks were immediately behind. Two months after the lowering of the American rates, their spread of loans throughout the Eastern bloc was $1,500,000,000, with $600,000,000 taken up by the Soviet Union. American banks were extremely happy: Moscow was happier.
Chapter 21
Jane realized she was in love and it frightened her. Because she didn’t want to lose it, like she had with Paul. There could only be a surface comparison, of course. Her feelings for Tom were far greater than they had ever been for Paul Burnham: she was sure of it. It was just that she could find small, secret similarities. With Burnham it had been a competition with a wife: with Tom it was his job. Although she didn’t regret it now – welcomed it even – Jane recognized it was her possessiveness that had caused an end of things with Burnham and she didn’t want it to happen again. So she was very careful, never showing any resentment when something happened that prevented Tom leaving Paris, always letting him initiate. Which was how it had been with Paul, she supposed. Again only a surface comparison. Paul had always been selfish, never considering her. That wasn’t the case with Tom. He’d spent more weekends in London than in Paris – on two of the four occasions he hadn’t managed to get away he’d asked her to go to France and they’d spent the free time exploring the city she knew so well from her university days, able to show off and take him to bistros and clubs he wouldn’t normally have visited. And during the week there were frequent telephone calls, either to the bank during the day or the flat at night. He wouldn’t have bothered with any of it if there were other women: if he didn’t care. When she thought about them, which she did all the time, Jane never considered the word love, on Tom’s part. She was careful about that, just as she was careful about over-possessiveness. A searcher for omens, she found other things to indicate that he considered it more than just a passing affair. He discussed everything about his unusual assignment in Europe, and he wouldn’t have done that with a casual acquaintance. Often he told her things she wouldn’t have heard about or expressed a more balanced view than she might have reached, and she knew the additional knowledge had made her indispensible to Burnham and the special unit that had been formed at the Bank of England. In the beginning, when Tom had first arrived, she’d hesitated at matching his information with her own, because a lot of it was officially confidential, but she’d lost the reserve with time. She had no secrets from him now, knowing that he had none from her. And he was a wonderful lover, exceeding even her sexuality.
Jane had been uncertain about Ann’s invitation to Cambridge, confused by a mixture of feelings. It meant, of course, a suggestion coming from her, something she normally avoided. And she was nervous that Tom might see the visit as a quest for official family approval or disapproval. Against the hesitation was her desire for the family to approve, as she knew they would. She was still undecided when he arrived from Paris, unaccustomedly early on Thursday night. When she finally mentioned it, he said he’d like to go and she was glad because it turned out to be a perfect weekend.
They drove up on the Friday, Jane leaving the bank early so they were able to get away from London before the weekend rush. Ann matter-of-factly showed them into a double bedroom, smiling at her sister’s obvious embarrassment. While the women supervised the evening meal Pike explained to Edward the intricacies of American football being broadcast on the newest television channel. On the Saturday they went to a point-to-point where Pike was able to maintain an impressive conversation with Harry about the merits and demerits of the horses and ended the day with a betting profit of £30, which Jane vetoed his giving Edward as a parting present because it was too much. Harry and Ann invited people for drinks after Sunday morning church and there were six guests at the luncheon party. They left after lunch on the Sunday, pleading the need to beat the returning traffic and promising to visit again.
‘Well?’ said Jane.
Pike, who was driving, looked quickly towards her and then back to the road. ‘Well what?’
‘I thought they were a bit overwhelming.’
‘I thought they made us very welcome.’
‘Not quite Rhode Island and the American Cup practice, was it?’
‘I had a hell of a time,’ said Pike. ‘Stop being an inverted snob.’
His accusation was justified, Jane realized. ‘I think they liked you,’ she said. She wished there’d been more opportunity for her to have talked to Ann.
‘I liked them.’
She put her hand out, resting it lightly on his thigh. ‘I enjoy being with you,’ she said.
‘We’ve got an extra day.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m taking up the formal introduction to the Bank of England tomorrow.’ He’d left it until last, with the benefit of learning everything from Jane: he was sure she wasn’t holding anything back.
‘I would have expected to have heard, if it’s someone from the unit,’ she said.
‘It is,’ said Pike. ‘Paul Burnham.’
Jane pulled her hand away from his leg, too abruptly.
‘What’s wrong?’ he said.
‘Nothing,’ she said shortly. She’d never identified Burnham as the man with whom she’d had the affair she confessed during their first meeting in Washington: he’d never shown any curiosity.
Pike reached across for her withdrawn hand. ‘Don’t imagine any embarrassment because of us, do you?’ he said, misunderstanding.
‘No,’ she said.
‘What then?’
‘I said nothing.’ She was being stupid and she knew it; they’d never argued and she didn’t want to now.
He drove on in silence for several miles and then said, ‘What’s he like?’
‘Head of the unit, as you know. Senior director: a member of the Court,’ she said. ‘There was speculation a few months ago that he might get a deputy chairmanship but it hasn’t happened yet.’
‘Like him?’
When Jane didn’t reply, Pike said again, ‘Like him?’
‘I did, once,’ she said at last.
‘Once?’
‘It was Paul I had the affair with,’ she said. ‘The one I told you about.’ She was staring directly ahead, frightened of his reaction.
He laughed, surprising her. ‘Now I’ll know what sort of guy you really fancy,’ he said.
‘That’s a stupid thing to say.’ She blurted the words. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘You seem very uptight about it.’
‘I’m not. I’m sorry. Really.’ What the hell was she doing!
‘Still in love with him?’
‘No!’ Jane shouted the denial, snatching out for his arm. He wasn’t expecting the sudden movement and the car twitched sideways before he managed to correct it.
‘Hey!’ he said. ‘Steady.’
‘Stop the car,’she sa
id.
‘What?’
‘Stop the car. I want you to stop the car.’
Momentarily he appeared unsure and then he moved in to the side of the road. ‘This isn’t a very good place to park,’ he said.
‘I’m not interested in good parking spots,’ she said. ‘I’m interested in making you understand something. What I said was stupid and I could have bitten my tongue off the moment I said it. When I was having the affair with Paul I thought I loved him. Maybe I did. I don’t know. But it’s over now: completely ended …’ She stopped, wishing it wasn’t so dark within the vehicle, so that she could see better the expression on his face. ‘There’s only one person I love now,’ she began again. ‘I love you.’ She was breaking the self-imposed rules, she thought desperately.
‘OK,’ he said.
‘What’s OK mean?’
‘It means that I understand and I’m not jealous and that everything is OK.’
‘You’re making it sound like a joke.’
‘You’re making it sound like a tragedy,’ he said.
A car went by, flashing its lights, but the illumination was too brief for her to see his face in any detail. ‘Shit!’ she said. ‘This is becoming ridiculous!’
‘Remember I told you I’d been married?’ said Pike suddenly.
‘Yes.’
‘We met again at the end of the IMF meeting in Washington. Her marriage has broken up: there’s going to be a divorce. We got together a few times.’
‘Slept together?’ she said.
‘Yes.’
‘After you came to England?’ said Jane, thick-voiced. ‘After we’d … after we’d made love?’
‘Yes.’
‘I see.’
‘No, you don’t.’ He felt out in the darkness, cupping her chin. ‘I’m balancing the scales, dummy. Absolute confession time. If I’d wanted to remary Janet I’d have said “no” to my father’s offer – which I originally intended to anyway – and stayed in New York. But I wanted to come to Europe. I wanted to come to Europe to be close to a very beautiful, very clever, very sexy lady that I’m mad about and who shouldn’t doubt me. Any more than she should doubt herself.’
Kremlin Conspiracy Page 18
