Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune

by Jeffrey Archer

  “That is exactly what I want to speak to you about, Senator. You’ve had brilliant success in exposing treachery within our own government. But to date, one of the communists’ greatest crimes has gone unpublicized.”

  “Just what great crime did you have in mind, Mr. Rosenevski? I have found so many since I came to Washington.”

  “I am referring”—Abel drew himself up a little straighter in his chair—“to the forced repatriation of thousands of displaced Polish citizens by the American authorities after the war ended. Innocent enemies of communism who were sent back to Poland and then on to the U.S.S.R., to be enslaved and sometimes murdered.” Abel waited for a response, but none was forthcoming. He heard a click and wondered if someone else had been listening to the conversation.

  “How can you be so stupid, Rosenevski?” said the Senator, his tone completely changed. “You dare to phone me to say that Americans—loyal United States soldiers—sent thousands of Poles back to Russia and nobody heard a word about it? Are you asking me to believe that? Even a Polack couldn’t be that much of a fool. And I wonder what kind of person accepts a lie like that without any proof? Do you want me also to believe that American soldiers are disloyal? Is that what you want? Tell me, Rosenevski, tell me what it is with you people? Are you too stupid to recognize Communist propaganda even when it hits you right in the face? Do you have to waste the time of an overworked United States senator because of a rumor cooked up by the Pravda Red slime to create unrest in America’s immigrant communities?”

  Abel sat motionless, stunned by the outburst. Before half of the tirade was over, Abel realized that any counterargument was going to be pointless. As he waited for the histrionic speech to end, he was glad the senator couldn’t see his startled face.

  “Senator, I’m sure you’re right and I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” Abel said quietly. “I hadn’t thought of it in quite that light before.”

  “Well, it just goes to show you how tricky these Commie bastards can be,” said McCarthy, his tone softening. “You have to keep an eye on them all the time. Anyway, I hope you’re more alert now to the continual danger the American people face.”

  “I am indeed, senator. Thank you once again for taking the trouble to speak to me personally. Good-bye, senator.”

  “Good-bye, Rosenevski.”

  Abel heard the phone click and realized it was the same sound as a closing door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  William became aware of feeling older when Kate teased him about his graying hair, hairs which he used to be able to count and no longer could—and when Richard started to bring girls home. William almost always approved of Richard’s choice of young ladies, as he called them, perhaps because they were all rather like Kate, who, he considered, was more beautiful in middle age than she had ever been. His daughters, Virginia and Lucy, now becoming young ladies, brought him great happiness as they grew in the image of their mother. Virginia was developing into quite an artist, and the walls of the kitchen and children’s bedrooms were covered in her latest works of genius—as Richard mockingly described them. Virginia’s revenge came the day Richard started cello lessons, when even the servants murmured unkind comments whenever the bow came in contact with the strings. Lucy adored them both and considered Virginia, with uncritical prejudice, the new Picasso, and Richard the new Casals. William began to wonder what the future would hold for all three of them when he was no longer around to control their lives.

  In Kate’s eyes all three children advanced satisfactorily. Richard, now at St. Paul’s, had improved enough at the cello to be chosen to play in a school concert, while Virginia was painting well enough for one of her pictures to be hung in the front room. But it became obvious to all the family that Lucy was going to be the beauty when, aged only eleven, she started receiving love notes from boys who until then had only shown an interest in baseball.

  In 1951, Richard was accepted at Harvard and although he did not win the top mathematics scholarship, Kate was quick to point out to William that he had played baseball and the cello for St. Paul’s, two accomplishments William had never so much as attempted. William was secretly proud of Richard’s achievements but mumbled to Kate something about not knowing many bankers who played baseball or the cello.

  Banking was moving into an expansionist period as Americans began to believe in a lasting peace. William soon found himself overworked, and for a short time, the threat of Abel Rosnovski and the problems associated with him had to be pushed into the background.

  The flow of quarterly reports from Thaddeus Cohen indicated that Rosnovski had embarked on a course he had no intention of abandoning; through a third party he had let every stockholder other than William know of his interest in Lester stock. William wondered if this course was heading toward a direct confrontation between himself and the Pole. He began to feel that the time was fast approaching when he would have to inform the Lester board of Rosnovski’s actions and perhaps even offer his resignation if the bank looked to be under siege, a move that would result in a complete victory for Abel Rosnovski, which was the one reason William did not seriously contemplate it. He decided that if he had to fight for his life, fight he would, and if one of the two had to go under, he would do everything in his power to ensure that it wasn’t William Kane.

  The problem of what to do about Abel Rosnovski’s investment program was finally taken out of William’s hands.

  Early in 1951 the bank had been invited to represent one of America’s new airline companies, Interstate Airways, when the Federal Aviation Administration granted it a franchise for flights between the East and West coasts. The airline approached Lester’s bank when it needed to raise $30 million, the financial backing required by governmental regulations.

  William considered the airline and the whole project to be well worth supporting and he spent virtually his entire time setting up a public offering to raise the necessary $30 million. The bank, acting as the sponsor for the project, put its full financial resources behind the new venture. The project became William’s biggest since he had returned to Lester’s, and he realized that his personal reputation was at stake when he went to the market for the $30 million. In July, when the details of the offering were announced, the stock was snapped up in a matter of days. William received lavish praise from all quarters for the way he had handled the project and carried it through to such a successful conclusion. He could not have been happier about the outcome himself, until he read in Thaddeus Cohen’s next report that 10 percent of the airline’s stock had been obtained by one of Abel Rosnovski’s dummy corporations.

  William realized then that the time had come to acquaint Ted Leach and Tony Simmons with his worst fears. He asked Tony to come to New York, where he related to both of the vice chairmen the saga of Abel Rosnovski and Henry Osborne.

  “Why didn’t you let us know about all this before?” was Tony Simmons’s first reaction.

  “I dealt with a hundred companies the size of the Richmond Group when I was at Kane and Cabot, Tony, and I couldn’t know at the time that he was that serious about revenge. I was only finally convinced of his obsession when Rosnovski purchased ten percent of Interstate Airways.”

  “I suppose it’s possible you may be overreacting,” said Ted Leach, “because there is one thing of which I am certain: it would be unwise to inform the rest of the board of all this information. The last thing we want a few days after launching a new company is a panic of selling.”

  “That’s for sure,” said Tony Simmons. “Why don’t you see this fellow Rosnovski and have it out with him?”

  “I expect that’s exactly what he’d like me to do,” replied William. “It would leave him in no doubt that the bank feels it is under siege.”

  “Don’t you think his attitude might change if you told him how hard you tried to talk the bank into backing the Richmond Group but they wouldn’t support you and——?”

  “I am convinced it wouldn’t make any difference.
”

  “Well, what do you feel the bank should do?” asked Ted Leach. “We certainly can’t stop Rosnovski from buying Lester stock if he can find a willing seller. If we went in for purchasing our own stock, far from stopping him, we would play right into his hands by pushing up the price and raising the value of his holding, thus jeopardizing our own financial position. I think you can be certain he would enjoy watching us sweat that one out. We are about the perfect size to be taken on by Harry Truman and there’s nothing the Democrats would enjoy more than a banking scandal with an election in the offing.”

  “I realize there’s little I can do about it,” said William, “but I had to let you know what Rosnovski was up to in case he springs another surprise on us.”

  “I suppose there’s still an outside chance,” said Tony Simmons, “that the whole thing is innocent and he simply respects your talent as an investor.”

  “How can you say that, Tony, when you know my stepfather is involved? Do you think Rosnovski employed Henry Osborne to further my career? Then you obviously don’t understand Rosnovski. I’ve watched him operating now for over twenty years. He’s not used to losing; he simply goes on throwing the dice until he wins. I couldn’t know him much better if he were one of my own family. He will …”

  “Now don’t become paranoid, William. I expect——”

  “Don’t become paranoid, Tony? Remember the power our Articles of Incorporation give to anyone who gets his hands on eight percent of the bank’s stock—an article I originally inserted to protect myself from being removed. The man already owns six percent, and if that’s not a bad enough prospect for the future, remember that Rosnovski could wipe out Interstate Airways overnight just by placing his entire block of stock on the market at once.”

  “But he would gain nothing from that,” said Ted Leach. “On the contrary, he’d stand to lose a great deal of money.”

  “Believe me, you don’t understand how Abel Rosnovski’s mind works,” said William. “He has the courage of a lion and the loss would mean nothing to him. I’m fast becoming convinced his only interest is in getting even with me. Yes, of course he’d lose money if he dumped his Interstate stock, but he always has his hotels to fall back on. There are twenty-one of them now, you know, and he must realize that if Interstate stock collapses overnight, we’ll also be knocked backward. As bankers, our credibility depends on the fickle confidence of the public, confidence Abel Rosnovski can now shatter as and when it suits him.”

  “Calm down, William,” said Tony Simmons. “It hasn’t come to that yet. Now that we know what Rosnovski is up to, we can keep a closer watch on him. We can counter his moves as and when we need to. The first thing we must be sure of is that no one else sells their stock in Lester’s before first offering them to you. The bank is always going to support any action you take. My own feeling is still that you should speak to Rosnovski personally and have it out in the open with him. At least that way we’d know how serious his intentions are and we could prepare ourselves accordingly.”

  “Is that also your opinion, Ted?”

  “Yes, it is. I agree with Tony. I think you should contact the man directly. It can only be in the bank’s best interests to discover how innocent or otherwise his intentions really are.”

  William sat in silence for a few moments. “If you both feel that way, I’ll give it a try,” he eventually said. “I must add that I don’t agree with you, but I may be too personally involved to make a dispassionate judgment. Give me a few days to think about how I should best approach him and I’ll let you know the outcome.”

  After the two vice chairmen had left his office, William sat alone, thinking about the action he had agreed to take, certain there could be little hope of success with Abel Rosnovski as long as Henry Osborne was involved.

  Four days later William again sat alone in his office, having given instructions that he was not to be interrupted under any circumstances. He knew that Abel Rosnovski was also sitting in his office in the New York Baron: he had had a man posted at the hotel all morning whose only task had been to report the moment Rosnovski showed up. The waiting man had phoned; Abel Rosnovski had arrived that morning at eight twenty-seven, had gone straight up to his office on the forty-second floor and had not been seen since. William picked up his telephone and asked the operator to get him the Baron hotel.

  “New York Baron.”

  “Mr. Rosnovski, please,” said William nervously. He was put through to a secretary.

  “Mr. Rosnovski, please,” he repeated. This time his voice was a little steadier.

  “May I ask who is calling?” the secretary said.

  “My name is William Kane.”

  There was a long silence—or did it simply seem long to William?

  “I’m not sure if he’s in, Mr. Kane. I’ll find out for you.”

  Another long silence.

  “Mr. Kane?”

  “Mr. Rosnovski?”

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Kane?” asked a very calm, lightly accented voice.

  Although William had prepared his opening remarks carefully, he was aware that he sounded anxious.

  “I’m a little worried about your holdings in Lester’s bank, Mr. Rosnovski,” he said, “and indeed in the strong position you’ve been building in one of the companies we represent. I thought perhaps the time had come for us to meet and discuss your full intentions. There is also a private matter I should like to make known to you.”

  Another long silence. Had he been cut off?

  “There are no conditions which would ever make a meeting with you possible, Kane. I know enough about you already without wanting to hear your excuses for the past. You keep your eyes open all the time and you’ll find out only too clearly what my intentions are, and they differ greatly from those you will find in the Book of Genesis, Mr. Kane. One day you’re going to want to jump out of the seventeenth-floor window of one of my hotels, because you’ll be in deep trouble with Lester’s bank over your own holdings. I only need two more percent to invoke Article Seven, and we both know what that means, don’t we? Then perhaps you’ll appreciate for the first time what it felt like for Davis Leroy, wondering for months what the bank might do with his life. Now you can sit and wonder for years what I am going to do with yours once I own eight percent.”

  Abel Rosnovski’s words chilled William, but somehow he forced himself to carry on calmly while at the same time banging his fist angrily on his desk. “I can understand how you feel, Mr. Rosnovski, but I still think it would be wise for us to get together and talk this thing out. There are one or two aspects of the whole affair I know you can’t be aware of.”

  “Like the way you swindled Henry Osborne out of five hundred thousand dollars, Mr. Kane?”

  William was momentarily speechless and wanted to explode but once again managed to control his temper.

  “No, Mr. Rosnovski, what I wanted to talk to you about has nothing to do with Mr. Osborne. It’s a personal matter and involves only you. However, I most emphatically assure you that I have never swindled Henry Osborne out of one red cent.”

  “That’s not Henry’s version. He says you were responsible for the death of your own mother, to make sure that you didn’t have to honor a debt to him. After your treatment of Davis Leroy, I find that only too easy to believe.”

  William had never had to fight harder to control his emotions—who the hell did this man think he was—and it took him several seconds to muster a reply. “May I suggest we clear this whole misunderstanding up by meeting at a neutral place of your choice where no one would recognize us?”

  “There’s only one place left where no one would recognize you, Mr. Kane.”

  “Where’s that?” asked William.

  “Heaven,” said Abel, and placed the phone back on the hook.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Get me Henry Osborne at once,” he said to his secretary.

  He drummed his fingers on his desk while the girl took nearly fifteen minute
s to find Congressman Osborne, who, it turned out, had been showing some of his constituents around the Capitol building.

  “Abel, is that you?”

  “Yes, Henry, I thought you’d want to be the first to hear that Kane knows everything, so now the battle is out in the open.”

  “What do you mean, he knows everything? Do you think he knows I’m involved?” Henry asked anxiously.

  “He sure does, and he also seems to be aware of the special company accounts, my holdings in Lester’s bank and Interstate Airways.”

  “How could he possibly know everything? Only you and I know about the special accounts.”

  “And Curtis Fenton,” said Abel, interrupting him.

  “Right. But he would never inform Kane.”

  “He must have. There’s no one else. Don’t forget that Kane dealt directly with Curtis Fenton when I bought the Richmond Group from his bank. I suppose they must have maintained some sort of contact all along.”

  “Jesus.”

  “You sound worried, Henry.”

  “If William Kane knows everything, it’s a different ball game. I’m warning you, Abel, he’s not in the habit of losing.”

  “Nor am I,” said Abel, “and William Kane doesn’t frighten me, not while I have all the aces in my hand. What is our latest holding in Kane’s stock?”

  “Off the top of my head, you own six percent of Lester’s and ten percent of Interstate Airways, plus odd bits of other companies they’re involved with. You only need another two percent of Lester’s to invoke Article Seven, and Peter Parfitt is still nibbling.”

  “Excellent,” said Abel. “I don’t see how the situation could be better. Continue talking to Parfitt, remembering that I’m in no hurry, while Kane can’t even approach him. For the time being, we’ll let Kane wonder what we’re up to. And be sure you do nothing until I return from Europe. After my phone conversation with Mr. Kane this morning, I can assure you that—to use a gentleman’s expression—he’s perspiring. But I’ll let you in on a secret, Henry: I’m not sweating. He can go on that way because I have no intention of making a move until I’m good and ready.”