The market maker

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The market maker Page 25

by Ridpath, Michael


  Kerton's cool blue eyes studied me for a moment, and then he turned back to Stahl. "Have a seat, gentlemen." There was a knock on the door and a butler-type man brought in coffee. "As you requested, I'm here alone. I haven't told anyone else in the firm about your visit, but I must admit I'm curious to know what it's about."

  "OK, Mr., er..." Stahl hesitated, caught uncharacteristically flat-footed. "Andy OK?" he said.

  Kerton smiled. "Andy's fine, Sid." I caught Dwight Godfrey stiffening a touch. I suspected Stahl preferred Sidney to Sid.

  "OK, Andy. It's real simple. We'd like to make an offer for your company."

  Kerton leaned back in his chair. "I'm flattered," he said, looking it. "But Dekker Ward is growing very

  strongly, and we expect this growth to continue. I don't think we're too keen to sell at the moment."

  "OK/' said Stahl, and waited.

  "All right," Kerton said, a pleased smile on his face. "You've intrigued me. What price were you thinking of?"

  "Ten million pounds."

  Kerton snorted. "Ten million! That's absurd. I'm sure you've discovered we keep our results confidential, but out annual profits are substantially more than that. In fact, our monthly profits are several times that."

  "Oh, we know," said Stahl, fixing Kerton with his brown eyes. "The thing is, we know you got a problem down there with your Emerging Market guys. But we don't know whether you know how big a problem

  it IS.

  This had caught Kerton's attention. "You're referring I take it to the deal we launched last month for Mexico?"

  "That, and some other things."

  "Well, the deal wasn't a success. It suffered from unfortunate timing. But when you dominate a market like we do, you have to take the rough with the smooth. I can assure you, we can handle it. Look, if you want to talk emerging markets, perhaps I ought to get hold of Ricardo Ross." He reached toward a telephone.

  "No, don't do that, Andy," Stahl said. "There's more. Nick?"

  "Well, sir, I understand that Ricardo has bought four billion dollars of Mexican bonds, and two billion of debt from other Latin American borrowers. As you know the market has fallen sharply in the last two weeks. My understanding is that Dekker's losses are more than one and a half billion dollars."

  Kerton didn't respond at first. His expression

  switched from polite attention to hostility. Of course he didn't know this. And he felt a fool for not knowing. He was cornered. He lashed out.

  ''Who the hell are you, anyway?" he said to me. ''We fired you, didn't we?"

  "That's right, sir."

  He turned back to Stahl. "I can't see how you can possibly listen to this man. He obviously bears a grudge. He's making it up."

  "It kind of fits with what we've seen in the market, Andy," said Stahl. "I believe him."

  "Well I don't. And I think vou should leave. There is no need for me to respond to such allegations."

  Stahl stood up. "OK, Andy. We're going. But check out what Nick here is saying. And we'll be in touch to see if you change your mind. But do yourself a favor, OK? Don't tell Ross about our little talk. At least not till you know he isn't hiding anything from you."

  Kerton showed us out of the building in icy silence.

  Stahl called at lunchtime the next day. "Kerton wants to talk. He wants to come to our offices. Can you meet us at three?"

  "I'll be there."

  We met in a conference room: Kerton, Stahl, the two corporate financiers, and me. It was a much blander room than the one we had occupied at Dekker Ward, but there was a nice view of a giant iron phallus that looked as though it had been blown down in the wind. Kerton was there with someone he introduced as Giles Tilfourd from Tilfourd and Co., a corporate finance boutique. It was promising that he had his own independent adviser. It suggested he expected discussions to lead somewhere.

  "OK, Andy," said Stahl. "Shoot."

  Kerton did well. He kept his cool. Although he seemed thoughtful, he didn't look like a man who had just discovered that his shareholding, which he thought was worth several hundred million pounds, was now worth just five.

  But it was.

  'Terhaps you could go through the details of your offer again..."

  Negotiations proceeded quickly. They have to in these situations. Any further deterioration in the market would make Dekker Ward worthless, worse than worthless. It would become a liability that even Bloom-field Weiss wouldn't be able to handle. Stahl left London, but Godfrey and Schwartz stayed, and kept me informed. Kerton was careful to keep Ricardo out of it. He sent a trio of his own people down to Canary Wharf under the guise of an internal audit. This apparently aroused some disquiet in Ricardo, but no suspicions. He was confident he could run rings around any internal auditors.

  I bought The Wall Street Journal every day. Things seemed neither better nor worse in Mexico. It was unclear what would happen to the Pinnock Bill in Congress. It seemed to have become sidetracked somehow in a negotiation over which military bases would be shut down in the continental United States.

  It was difficult to focus on my thesis, but I did my best. Sitting in my room, my mind kept drifting back to the deal. It was exhilarating. I spent many hours imagining the look on Ricardo's face when he heard that Dekker had been sold from underneath him. To Bloom-field Weiss of all people! Surely even he wouldn't be able to keep his cool. He and Eduardo probably had plenty of cash stashed away for a rainy day, but this

  would hurt Ricardo much more than merely losing money. This would be a very public humiliation. A

  statement that the powerful Dekker machine that was i

  so feared by the market was, in reality, nothing but a |

  pile of worthless paper. 1

  I thought of Isabel, and smiled wryly. I was sure she would appreciate it. If she was still alive. The familiar,

  chronic anxiety returned. I was still calling Luis every

  evening, and still hearing nothing. j

  25

  I called Stahl in New York. Despite his elevated status, he seemed to like to talk to me directly. It angered his sidekicks, who resented the access I had to him.

  ''How are we doing?" I asked.

  "Great, Nick, great. I just got back from Geneva yesterday. I met with the directors of Chalmet. Boy, I put a rocket up their asses! They have no idea what's going on at Dekker. In fact, I don't think they know what their own Emerging Markets guys are up to. But they're scared. It's beginning to dawn on them that all this great new Latino business isn't as kosher as it might be. They didn't even know that Chalmet was using hundreds of millions of their clients' dough to fund Dekker!"

  Stahl chuckled. "You should of seen their faces. It was like I'd dropped a whole cartload of shit right there on their pretty polished desks. Which I guess in a way you could say I had."

  "So what are they going to do?" I asked.

  "They want outta there, fast. They'll sell."

  "Excellent. Does that mean we're there?"

  "Just about. We're working to a deadline of June nineteen. There are still some numbers to be run, and

  Kerton's got to get the SFA and the Stock Exchange to approve the transaction, but that shouldn't be a problem. And then we have a done deal."

  The nineteenth of June. That was just over a week away!

  "Great!"

  Stahl chuckled. "Yeah. Nice deal, Nick."

  "Does Ricardo know about it?"

  "Nope. He has no idea." Another laugh like a rasping saw.

  I had one important question I wanted to ask Stahl. "If you do take over Dekker, what will you do with the staff?"

  "Well, the Ross brothers will have to go. But we'll keep most of the rest of them. That's what we're buying, isn't it?"

  "I suppose so," I said, relieved.

  "I gotta go, Nick." The phone went dead.

  I stared at the receiver in triumph. Yes!

  A few moments later, Jamie called. He wanted to see me for a drink that everung. Although I felt a litt
le better knowing that Stahl had no intention of sacking him, I wanted to avoid seeing Jamie if at all possible. But he was insistent. So I met him in the Pembroke Arms at eight o'clock.

  He was waiting for me at our usual table, his pint of bitter half-empty in front of him. I bought myself a pint and joined him. He looked angry.

  He came straight out with it. "Have you spoken to Bloomfield Weiss?"

  "What about?"

  "About us? Dekker?"

  I considered brazening it out. But a second's thought

  made me realize that if I were to have a chance of keep i

  ing Jamie's friendship through this, I would have to be i

  honest now. j

  I nodded. |

  "Why?"

  I swallowed. "Ricardo deserved it." '

  Jamie glowered at me." I can't believe you'd do this!"

  "Look, Janue," 1 said, in as reasonable a tone of voice

  as I could muster. "Dekker is in big trouble. It might

  well go bust. If Bloomfield Weiss takes it over, you'll i

  keep your job." i

  "That's not the point!" Jamie's voice was raised and a j

  pair of driikers at the next table turned toward him. i

  "We're a team! And like it or not, Nick, we're Ricardo's |

  team. You would be breaking us up."

  Now I got angry. "You're sounding just like Ricardo! i

  He's not some victim of the financial establishment, |

  and neither are you. He's a very wealthy man, who's '

  made money from screwing all those around him. In ;

  eluding me!" j

  We sat in angry silence for a moment.

  "How did you find out?" I asked. i

  "Nothing goes on in Kerton's office without Ricardo !

  finding out about it. He heard a former employee had

  tipped Bloomfield Weiss off about our Mexican posi |

  tion. He guessed it was you. And he guessed it was me j

  who told you about it."

  "I'm sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to get you into 1

  trouble." j

  "Well, you bloody well have now! I told him it I couldn't be you. It must be Dave, or someone else. But I had to check."

  He drained his glass. "I don't think we'll be seeing j any more of each other," he said, and left the pub. I sat alone, my beer barely touched.

  I should have anticipated Jamie's reaction. He was a loyal Dekker man. I had always put this loyalty down to greed, or at least ambition—the ambition to make a fortune, which was almost the same thing. But it was more than that. Jamie was one of Ricardo's people. He was what I would have become if I had stayed there. Ri-cardo looked after his people well, and expected total loyalty. In Jamie's case he'd got it.

  Jamie had always liked to follow the doctrine of whatever institution he was in. At seventeen, he had become the embodiment of the public-school virtues, and was rewarded by becoming head boy. At Oxford, he had led a successful university career in social and sporting terms, if not quite academically. At Gumey Kroheim, he had been able to don the mantle of the stuffy merchant banker whenever it was required by his colleagues or his customers. And now at Dekker he was keen to follow Ricardo's rules and do well by them. So far he seemed to be succeeding.

  But Jamie was my friend, dammit! How could Ri-cardo take away my friend from me? Surely our loyalty to each other stretched back further, ran deeper?

  In which case, why had I gone behind Jamie's back to sell Dekker to Bloomfield Weiss? I was beginning to regret that. Now it looked as if that decision was going to lose me my best friend.

  The following evening, Luis called me.

  "Luis! How are you?"

  "I don't know, Nick. I have news."

  "What is it?"

  "Isabel is still alive."

  My heart leaped. I felt a rush of elation, one tempered immediately by fear. This was too good to be true.

  "Where is she? With you?"

  ''No, Nick/' said Luis. I knew from his tone what was coming next. "I heard from Zico. He says they still have her."

  Disappointment. And then fear again. "Have you proof of life?"

  "Yes, I have. After our previous experience, I didn't want to contact you until I was sure she was reaUy alive."

  "What happened? Why didn't they come back with proof of life before?"

  "I don't know. Zico said that they gave up negotiations earlier because of the police raid. But it doesn't quite make sense to me."

  It didn't to me either. But Isabel was alive! "So, how much do they want this time?"

  "That's the interesting thing, Nick. They don't want money."

  "Then what do they want?"

  "Zico said he wants you to call off the takeover of Dekker Ward."

  I was stunned. How the hell did Zico know about the Dekker takeover? And what did he care?

  "Nick? Are you there?"

  "Yes, I am," I said. "It's just quite a lot to take in at once. But it's so good to know Isabel's aUve! Now we just have to work out how to get her home."

  "What's this Dekker Ward takeover?" Luis asked.

  I took a deep breath and explained. Isabel's safety was far more important than any duty of confidence I owed to Bloomfield Weiss.

  Luis, of course, foUowed everything. "But why do the kidnappers care about Dekker?"

  I thought aloud. "I don't know. The one person I know who would be most concerned about Dekker being taken over is Ricardo."

  "So does that mean that he's behind Isabel's kidnap?"

  "I suppose so. Either him or his brother, Eduardo. It sounds more like something Eduardo would do/'

  ''Filho da putal" Luis muttered. "By the way, he said something else." Luis's voice was strained.

  "Yes?"

  "If we talk to the police, he will send us Isabel's head."

  "You mean..." My stomach turned. "Oh, God."

  "I spoke to Nelson. In fact, he's here now."

  "Good." I was glad that Nelson's calming presence was close at hand. "What does he say?"

  "He doesn't think we should tell the Rio police after what happened last time. He thinks there's a chance the kidnappers were tipped off by one of them."

  "That makes sense to me. What about going to the police in Britain? Ask him about that."

  I held for a while while Luis discussed Ricardo and Eduardo's likely involvement with the kidnappers with Nelson.

  "Nelson thinks it's risky. He says this threat is different from the usual bluster in kidnappings. Especially if they know we can link the kidnapping to an individual. If Ricardo, or Eduardo, or whoever it is, gets a hint of police involvement, then the kidnappers will carry out their threat. But maybe you can trust the British police not to intervene?"

  I didn't have any idea what the British police would do. "Let's leave them out of it, then," I said.

  "Good." There was relief in Luis's voice.

  "So Zico wants me to call off Bloomfield Weiss?"

  "Can you?" Luis's voice was tentative, full of fear and hope.

  "I don't know. How long have I got? "

  "One week. Wednesday at midnight, Brazilian time/'

  That was interesting. Bloomfield Weiss was due to put in their offer next Wednesday.

  "And if I don't?"

  Luis whispered, "They kill her."

  "And if I do, do they let her go?"

  "They say they will. But Nelson thinks they might hold out for a cash ransom as well. If they do, Tm happy to pay it."

  I thought it over. "I suppose if Eduardo is behind it, he won't need the money. But he might want to keep her to stop us going to the police after she's released."

  "Maybe you're right. But unless you call Bloomfield Weiss off, I think they will carry out their threat."

  That, at any rate, was clear.

  "OK, Luis. I'll do what I can."

  I put the phone down, and thought over what Luis had said. Could Ricardo or Eduardo be behind Isabel's kidnapping? Ricar
do would go to almost any lengths to save Dekker. But would he go as far as kidnapping Isabel, his former lover? That I wasn't sure of. But I remembered Eduardo's threats to me and shivered. It would be no problem for him.

  All that made sense now. But why had they seized Isabel in the first place? There didn't seem an obvious answer to that one.

  I had no time to think about that now. I'd have to call Stahl back. What the hell would I say to him? I couldn't order him to call the deal off. I racked my brains trying to think of a financial excuse. There wasn't one. I would have to tell him the truth, and trust to his humanity.

  Bloomfield Weiss was renowned as one of the most inhumane investment banks on Wall Street.

  I called him. Got past his secretary, told Preston Mor-

  ris this was urgent information on the Dekker deal, and within two minutes was talking to Sidney Stahl himself.

  " Whaddya got, Nick? I'm in a meeting/'

  I took a deep breath. "I'd like you to call off the deal."

  "Why?" The response was immediate, sharp.

  "One of Dekker Ward's employees was kidnapped in Brazil last month. The kidnapper's have said that they will kill her unless we call off the takeover of Dekker Ward."

  "What is this shit? Is this for real?"

  "Yes, it is."

  "I can't call off the deal now. Anyway, why should I? Dekker Ward's employees aren't my responsibility. If they want to kill their own people, I can't stop them. This makes no sense."

  "This woman means a lot to me, Sidney."

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. For a moment my hopes rose. Maybe he was considering going along with my request.

  But he wasn't. "I'ni sorry, Nick. You're an emotional guy and you've gotten yourself emotionally involved in this one. Look, I'm grateful you brought me the transaction, and it's a great deal. But this is business. This could be the most important deal in Bloomfield Weiss's history. I can't stop it now. It's time for you to step back, Nick. Tell 'em you've spoken to me and there's nothing I can do."

  "But she'll die!"

  "This thing's too big to stop now. I'm sorry. Bye, Nick."

  The phone went dead.

  Jesus! I couldn't believe it. In the last few hours I had discovered that Isabel was alive, only to realize that there was nothing I could do to help her. I imagined her

 

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