The Pride

by Wallace Ford

  It was really clear to me that this whole thing had taken on a life of its own. I was now along for the ride like everyone else.

  CHAPTER 32

  Diedre

  She who hesitates …

  I could have conjured up a million guesses as to why Paul wanted us to have lunch that day, but his merger idea still would not have occurred to me. It was that amazing it was shocking, it was surreal, and it was great. And it was also moving a lot faster than anything that I might have expected.

  I had decided to come along for Paul’s luncheon because the group that he was assembling seemed to be entertaining, at the very least. And Paul seemed to care so much. And I have to confess that spending time with Paul had started to be more enjoyable than I cared to admit at the time.

  But my wildest ideas would not have come close to his proposal to merge my firm with Gordon’s and Jerome’s. And now, here we were, sitting at the Water Club, talking about how to make it happen.

  I remember all of us sitting around the table waiting to see who would take the first leap of faith in this nascent undertaking. It did not take long.

  “All right, God dammit!” You would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to know that it was Gordon. In some ways he could be so predictable. A strength and a weakness, as time would tell.

  “If we are going to play, show me yours—I’ll show you mine, I don’t mind going first. But I am going to say this one time and one time only. If anyone takes anything from this table and tries to fuck me, it will be the worst decision that you ever made.”

  I have never taken threats well, and I was going to be goddamned if I let the likes of Gordon Perkins pull a grandstand play like this. As I started to speak I saw a similar thermonuclear reaction emanating from Jerome. This whole thing was about to go bastard ballistic. No question about it.

  It was at this very moment that Paul stepped in. His sense of timing was unerring that afternoon. I remember thinking that I wish he could have been that way more often in the past. But it was a thought that was almost a subliminal blink. And then it was gone.

  “Everyone please just simmer down … please.” Paul had his hands extended, palms down, in the universal gesture of the peacemaker.

  “Jerome and Diedre, you know Gordon and the way he is. If you want to work with a diplomat, I should just pay the bill and we can all go on up the river to the U.N. and find us some diplomats.

  “Gordon, you know good and goddamn well you can’t go around threatening Jerome and Diedre if you are going to work with them. So why don’t we just move on? O.K.?”

  There were swollen thunderheads of temper floating on the horizon of the luncheon table that afternoon. One spark of tantrum lightning and it was all over. For more than a few moments there was total silence. Sunshine and monsoon hung in the balance. And then there was Gordon again.

  “That’s fine with me. I’m just telling it like it is. But you’re right, Paul. Let’s move on. Jerome, Diedre, no harm intended.”

  It was the closest thing to an apology I had ever heard from Gordon in his entire life. Sincerity was another thing entirely. But with Gordon you could never ask for too much.

  With that semi mea culpa Gordon began to explain how he conducted his business. We all knew that Gordon was big in public finance. But as he began to “open the kimono,” it was clear that none of us knew the half of it. His Rolodex and firm database was chock full of the names and numbers of state comptrollers, city treasurers, mayors, city council members, and very influential “consultants.” And Gordon wanted much more.

  “Listen, later this year, the City of New Orleans is holding its mayoral election. There is an opportunity there that is ours for the taking. It’s just sitting there.”

  I remember listening and thinking that the incumbent, Prince Lodrig, was young, black, and progressive. In four short years he had engineered a near miraculous change in the laissez-faire approach to government, introducing honesty and fiscal probity to a political lifestyle that had created the caricature of New Orleans that existed in the minds of too many people.

  I also remember thinking that Mayor Lodrig was a son of the Crescent City and exceedingly popular. He clearly needed a second term in order to truly institutionalize many of the changes that he had begun to initiate. There were too many weak, venal and corrupt people, in and out of government, that were used to waiting out an occasional hurricane or tidal flood of reform. To them, Prince Lodrig was just some more bad weather. He would be gone soon enough. Gordon continued.

  “Mayor Lodrig’s opponent is this knucklehead Percy Broussard. He used to be a radio commentator and, to tell the truth, he is probably receiving more than a little of his campaign financing from the Oliver North-Gordon Liddy-Pat Robertson wing of the Republican Party.

  “Here’s where it gets good.” I had never seen Gordon express such glee before, and I was not sure that it was such a good thing. Over time I would become sure that Gordon laughing never presaged anything good.

  “On its face it looks like Lodrig should run Broussard right into the bayous. But I have it on very good authority that Broussard is going to come into some very serious campaign money and that Lodrig will not have anything like a cakewalk into his second term. I don’t care what you have read in the papers. That’s the real deal and the real story.

  “Now, I have known Prince for a long time. I gave him money when he won his election for mayor, and I gave him money during his two earlier campaigns when he lost. This is going to be his fourth campaign for mayor of New Orleans and I can tell you that he doesn’t intend to lose this time.

  “Prince is a reformer and a progressive and all that good shit. But he is also a realist. He absolutely hates to lose and he knows that money is the ‘mother’s milk of politics.’”

  It was absolutely fascinating listening to Gordon. As loathsome as I found him to be as an individual, he was undoubtedly one of the most impressive and intelligent people that I ever met. When he knew what he wanted, he knew how to get it. And clearly, he usually did. Lunch that day taught me a lot about what I knew and didn’t know about Gordon Perkins.

  “Right now I am locked in as a part of Mayor Lo-drig’s campaign. As a matter of fact, I am Co-Chairman of his Finance Committee and I am going to have a lot to say about what happens in New Orleans after Lodrig wins. It’s fair to say that I am going to flat-out control all of the municipal finance business in New Orleans.

  “Now I know that it is a small market. But it’s a major American city, and I plan to leverage that control into influencing my business in a dozen other markets across the country within the year.

  “Diedre and Jerome, if you can contribute some money to Lodrig’s campaign, it will help make my plan work. If you actually show up and are visible in support of the mayor, I am certain that a number of people we know will be attracted and give Prince the momentum that he needs to derail Percy Broussard before his campaign really gets up a full head of steam.”

  Basically, Gordon proposed that Jerome and I would work together to raise money, give money and generally support the mayoral candidacy of Prince Lodrig. Upon his victory at the end of the year, the new firm that Paul had proposed would have a key position in the municipal finance industry throughout the country. It was pretty heady stuff for a firm that didn’t even exist. It would clearly be an important foundation for a new business operation.

  “And I’ll tell you this. Even if we don’t wind up making this merger work, if you work with me on this I will figure out some profit-sharing plan for you that will make all of this worth your while. It’s that big!”

  With that Gordon sat back, cradling his balloon of Delamaine once more. He had said a lot. It was clear that he didn’t need to say much more. I was trying to compose in my mind how I would introduce my firm’s latest plans. While I was doing this, Jerome began speaking.

  CHAPTER 33

  Diedre

  The revolution will not be televised

  It was clear
that he did not need a lot of prompting. Although he had been largely silent during lunch, Jerome clearly had been sizing up everyone and everything. Almost everyone thought of him as being cautious and reserved, but clearly Jerome was not averse to taking risks. After all, he had left a great job with a major firm on Wall Street to start his own firm.

  He was not a man who was afraid of seizing his own destiny, that was for sure. And now, in the Water Club, on a cold January afternoon, Jerome once again saw an opportunity to seize his destiny—by the throat. And I had that sense that he believed, as I already did, that Paul was right.

  “Okay, folks, you all know that the Hardaway Group has been trying to get more involved in the corporate side of the business. We do asset management and municipal finance, but let me tell you a few things that you may not know about our little shop.

  “Our long term strategic plan focuses upon the changes that are taking place in the biotechnology industry. And believe me, these changes are taking place at mind-bending speed.

  “I know everyone is talking about the internet and e-commerce, and where all that is going. And I say God bless them. I am not sure about the internet-based businesses. I am sure about biotechnology. I have seen work that is being done right now. And I have read and analyzed extrapolations that would absolutely blow your mind.”

  I had never seen an animated Jerome Hardaway. I doubt that anyone at the table had, including the ever-sulking Ray Beard. This luncheon was turning out to be memorable for more reasons than one.

  Jerome Hardaway was a graduate of Yale University. Through the networks of friendship, association, and affinity that develop out of schools like Yale, Jerome had been contacted two years earlier by one of his classmates who was senior vice president of one of the leading biotech firms in the country.

  It turned out that this classmate, Dr. Barry Herzog, had read in the Yale alumni magazine about Jerome’s accomplishments and thought that he needed to speak with an investment banker who wouldn’t necessarily eat him alive on the first meeting. Herzog had sense enough to know that if he went to one of the big houses the odds were that they were already in touch with the board and senior management of his company, dancing the dance that was to be the prelude to an incredibly lucrative public offering. Jerome went on to explain the reason for this rather unorthodox business connection.

  “Herzog needs help because he has developed an amazingly successful successor to AZT that enhances the quality of life for HIV patients. He has managed to position himself as the sole owner of the patent. And frankly, he is pissed off because he has been passed over for promotion and a larger equity share in the company where he works.

  “It’s pretty clear to me that if he walks with the patent for this new drug, he could start up and finance a company that would fly. Absolutely fly. Soar would be a better word.

  “Of course all of you can see the potential in Dr. Herzog’s dilemma.”

  Jerome had never been known for being much of a talker, but his story was riveting. We all leaned a little closer to the table so that we could hear every word that Jerome was saying, oblivious to our collectively synchronized fascination.

  “The challenge is to organize Herzog’s move and implement his plan for him, securing the financial structure to make all this work without divulging details. Of course it is critical that we maintain a continuing and permanent equity interest in any resulting deal or deals.”

  We all understood the horizon of opportunity that lay in front of Jerome. If he could be adept and agile enough to pull this off, every science jock and computer geek with a hint of ambition would be banging on his door. And, in this New Jack world of technofinance, every major investor would sing his praises and fill his pockets.

  “Jerome, this sounds great, but I am hearing a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’.” I didn’t want to rain on anybody’s parade, but I felt that I had to speak up.

  “I mean, if Dr. Herzog does receive his proper recognition and compensation from his current company, including equity, do you think he would still leave and follow through with the plan you are putting together?

  “And, if you are able to structure this deal, how do you know whether ‘loyalty’ is simply a disposable noun in the vocabulary of the good doctor? How do you know that he won’t cut you loose as lead banker the first time the Merrills and Goldmans start whispering sweet nothings in his ear?”

  Jerome sat silent for a few moments. I knew that he had already thought of these things. All of us were curious as to what his answer would be. We didn’t have to wait long.

  “The reason why I brought up this deal is that I think that if we worked together, our joint efforts might really make this thing work.

  “The way I see it, access to institutional investors and public pension fund managers would make a huge difference. Gordon, if you can get some of those pension fund managers to invest some of their capital into so-called high risk ventures like Herzog’s, we can all make a killing. We can feed like lions on the Serengeti.” Jerome smiled a smile that made me hope that we could always be on the same side.

  “And Diedre, your access to institutional investors can clearly help move this deal forward. And with this kind of firepower, you can be sure that I will put this deal together.

  “And by the way, Diedre, don’t you worry about Herzog. You can be sure that he already knows better than to backstab me.” Jerome said this in a way that revealed, just for that moment, a tougher, harder, stronger side of him than I ever knew existed. And I just knew without actually knowing that I did not want to be near Barry Herzog or anyone near him if he ever dreamed of double-crossing Jerome. I took some real comfort in that knowledge.

  There were still a lot of if’s and but’s. But everyone at the table understood the import of what Jerome was saying. And we all started to truly realize the awesome potential that lay within Paul’s proposal.

  As individuals we all had confidence in our respective strengths and ability to succeed. Frankly, it had never occurred to me to have the same level of confidence in anyone else. Now, at lunch at the Water Club on the most improbable of winter days, that all changed. I could almost see everyone’s mind working, processing data, and arriving at what would be one of the most important decisions that each of us would ever make. At least that was becoming clear.

  And now it was time for me to say something. I have never been a big believer in unnecessary drama, but I must say that at that moment I did hesitate. Not for dramatic effect, but because I knew that I was diving into deep waters, and a moment of contemplation was necessary.

  CHAPTER 34

  Diedre

  Don’t go breaking my heart

  As I took a breath and gathered myself, I felt Paul’s eyes on me. I looked up, and for a moment I thought I could read his mind. I could see his very real powers of self-control straining to keep him from saying anything that might throw this discussion off-track at a very critical phase. I could almost hear him—

  It’s happening! It’s really happening! That’s two down and one to go. But two won’t do. It’s got to be three. Come on, Diedre! Come on, get with the program! Please baby, please! I am sure that it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn I heard his voice in my head just then.

  It was, of course, just a matter of chance that I was the last one to speak and render some kind of decision on this proposal. In point of fact, I was probably the first to decide—I have always known opportunity when I see it, and this was not opportunity knocking, it was trying to kick the door down. I was reaching for that door as soon as Paul laid out his plan.

  But being the last to speak on the subject had its benefits. Even though I was sitting with some very controlled individuals, there had to be some anticipation with respect to what I was going to say. I thought that I could see a glimmer of a glint of expectation in the eyes of Jerome, Paul, and Gordon.

  Ray Beard was something else again. I remember a look that reminded me of a laser fueled by cold fusion. In
retrospect, I am surprised that no one else noticed the almost palpable resentment and barely controlled rage in his eyes that we would all have cause to remember in the months to come.

  At the time, Ray Beard was not the issue. And at the time I could not also have cared less that Jerome’s wonder boy had hurt feelings. It was time to move on. And I took another deep breath and watched the marvelously diverse aquatic traffic on the East River float by our table. There was a barge filled with refuse that could have been from outer space. There was a luxury yacht, about eighty-five feet long. There was a police cruiser. There was yet another oil tanker. There was a ferry plying its way across the East River with some commuters getting an early start home. It was definitely time.

  “Well, gentlemen, I have been working on a project that I think you might find interesting. I have been talking to the heads of several of the major municipal employee unions throughout the U.S. I want these unions to form an investment fund that my firm would manage.

  “Once I have the fund in place, I would establish a traditional portfolio, but—and here’s where it gets interesting—this investment fund will work with the World Bank to finance inner-city development projects right here, much in the same way that the World Bank guarantees loans in Azerbaijan, Bosnia, Vietnam, Brazil, and South Africa.

  “And get this, the reason why this works so well is that the municipal employee unions would be investing in their own futures by assuring their retirement income. And at the same time they are investing in the future of their own jobs, they will be financing development projects in the various cities that could stabilize and enhance the future of these cities. Of course, this would also assure their future employment.

  “The way I look at it, it’s a classic example of doing the right thing and making the right business decision at the same time. Now, Gordon, it’s pretty clear to me that with your contacts with the various public employee unions around the country, as well as your relationships with all the municipal and state officials in the country, you could help put this concept over the top.