Kane and Abel

by Jeffrey Archer

  Abel asked Zaphia to come out with him again on Saturday night, but she was working the evening shift. However, he managed to accompany her to church on Sunday morning, and listened with mingled nostalgia and exasperation to the Polish priest intoning the unforgettable words of the Mass and delivering a sermon on chastity. It was the first time Abel had been in a church since his days at the castle. At that time he had yet to experience the cruelty that now made it impossible for him to believe in a benevolent deity. His reward for attending church came when Zaphia allowed him to hold her hand as they walked back to the hotel.

  ‘Have you thought any more about the position at the Stevens?’ she asked.

  ‘I have a meeting that will decide things tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so glad, Abel. I’m sure you’d make a very good assistant manager.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Abel, realizing they had been talking about different things.

  ‘Would you like to have supper with me and my cousins tonight?’ Zaphia asked. ‘I always spend Sunday evening with them.’

  ‘Yes, I’d like that very much.’

  Zaphia’s cousins lived in the heart of the Polish community. They were very impressed when she arrived accompanied by a friend who drove a new Buick. The family, as Zaphia called them, consisted of two sisters, Katya and Janina, and Katya’s husband, Janek. Abel presented the sisters with a bunch of roses, and answered all their questions about his future prospects in fluent Polish. Zaphia was obviously embarrassed, but Abel knew the same would be required of any young man who visited a Polish-American household for the first time. Aware of the envy in Janek’s eyes, he made an effort to play down his progress since his early days at the meat packers’. Katya served a simple Polish meal of pierogi and bigos, which Abel would have eaten with a good deal more relish fifteen years ago. He ignored Janek, and concentrated on the sisters. Perhaps they approved of the pimply youth.

  On their way back to the Stevens Zaphia asked, with a flash of the coquettishness he remembered, if it was considered safe to drive a motor car and hold a lady’s hand at the same time. Abel laughed and put his hand back on the steering wheel.

  ‘Will you have time to see me tomorrow?’ he asked.

  ‘I hope so, Abel,’ she said. ‘Perhaps by then you’ll be my boss.’

  He smiled to himself as he watched her go through the back door, wondering how Zaphia would feel if she knew the real consequences of tomorrow’s meeting. He did not move until she had disappeared through the service entrance.

  Assistant manager,’ he mused, laughing out loud as he climbed into bed and threw his pillow on the floor.

  Abel woke a few minutes before five the following morning. It was still dark outside when he called for an early edition of the Tribune. He went through the motions of reading the financial section before getting dressed, and strolled into the breakfast room when it opened at seven o’clock. Zaphia was not on duty that morning, but the pimply boyfriend was, which Abel took to be a bad omen. After breakfast he returned to his room and paced around as he waited for the minutes to pass. He checked his tie in the mirror for the twentieth time, and once again looked at his watch. He estimated that if he walked very slowly, he would arrive at the bank as its doors were opening. In fact he was five minutes early, and had to walk once around the block, looking pointlessly into store windows at expensive jewellery, radios and hand-tailored suits. Would he ever be able to afford a hand-tailored suit, he wondered. He arrived back at the bank at four minutes past ten.

  ‘Mr Fenton is taking a long distance call at the moment,’ the secretary informed Abel. ‘Can you come back in half an hour, or would you prefer to wait?’

  ‘I’ll come back,’ said Abel, not wishing to appear overanxious.

  It was the longest thirty minutes he could remember since he’d boarded the train to Moscow. He studied every shop window on La Salle Street, even the women’s clothes, which only made him think of Zaphia.

  On his return to the Continental Trust the secretary quickly ushered him into Fenton’s office. He didn’t want to shake hands with the manager because his own hands were sweating.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Rosnovski. Do have a seat.’

  Curtis Fenton took a file out of his desk drawer. Abel could see the word ‘Confidential’ written across the cover.

  ‘Now,’ Fenton began, ‘I hope you’ll find my news agreeable. The principal concerned is willing to go ahead with the purchase of the hotels.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Abel.

  ‘You haven’t heard the terms yet.’ Fenton looked at Abel and smiled. ‘But I think you’ll find them favourable. The principal will put up the full two million dollars required to clear Mr Leroy’s debt, and at the same time he will form a new company in which the shares will be split sixty per cent to him, and forty per cent to you. Your forty per cent is therefore valued at eight hundred thousand dollars, which will be treated as a loan by the new company, that will be made for a term not to exceed ten years, at four per cent interest, which can be paid off from the company profits. That is to say, if the company makes a profit of one hundred thousand dollars in any given year, forty thousand dollars of that profit would be set against your eight hundred thousand debt, plus the four per cent interest. If you clear the loan in under ten years, you’ll be given a one-time option of buying the remaining sixty per cent of the company for a further three million dollars. That would give my client a first-class return on his investment, and you the opportunity to own the Richmond Group outright.’

  Abel wanted to leap out of his chair, but sat still, allowing Mr Fenton to continue. ‘In addition to this, you will receive a salary of five thousand dollars per annum, and your position as president of the group will give you complete day-to-day control of the company. You will be asked to refer to me only on matters concerning finance. I have been entrusted with the task of reporting directly to your principal, and he has asked me to represent his interests on the board of the new Richmond Group. I am happy to comply with this only if it is acceptable to you. My client wishes to stress that he does not wish to be personally involved. As I have mentioned, there might be a conflict of interests for him if his colleagues were to become aware of his involvement, which I am sure you will understand. He also insists that you will at no time make any attempt to discover his identity. He will give you fourteen days to consider his terms, on which there can be no negotiation, as he considers - and I must say I agree with him - that his terms are fair.’

  Abel could not speak.

  ‘Pray do say something, Mr Rosnovski.’

  ‘I don’t need fourteen days to make a decision,’ Abel finally managed to say. ‘I accept your client’s terms without discussion. Please thank him, and tell him I will of course respect his request for anonymity and am delighted that you will be representing him on the board.’

  ‘That’s splendid,’ said Fenton, permitting himself a rare smile. ‘Now, a few minor points. The bank accounts for all the hotels in the group will be lodged with Continental Trust affiliates, and the main account will remain in this office under my direct control. I will receive one thousand dollars a year as a director of the new company.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re going to get something out of the deal,’ said Abel, with a grin.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I’m pleased to be working with you, Mr Fenton.’

  ‘Your principal has also placed two hundred and fifty thousand dollars on deposit with the bank, to be used for the day-to-day expenses of the hotels over the next few months. This will also be regarded as a loan at four per cent. You are to advise me if this amount turns out to be insufficient. However, I believe it would enhance your standing with my client if you found the two hundred and fifty thousand to be enough.’

  ‘It’s more than enough,’ said Abel.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Fenton as he opened a desk drawer and produced a large Cuban cigar.

  ‘Do you smoke?’

  ‘Yes
,’ said Abel, who had never smoked a cigar before in his life.

  Abel coughed himself down La Salle Street all the way back to the Stevens. David Maxton was standing proprietorially in the foyer when he arrived. Abel stubbed out his half-finished cigar with some relief and walked over to him.

  ‘Mr Rosnovski, you look a happy man this morning.’

  ‘I am, sir, and I’m only sorry to have to tell you that I won’t be working for you as the manager of this hotel.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mr Rosnovski, but frankly that news doesn’t surprise me.’

  ‘Thank you for everything,’ said Abel, injecting as much feeling as he could into the words and the handshake that accompanied them.

  He went into the dining room in search of Zaphia, but she hadn’t come on duty yet. He took the elevator to his room, relit the cigar, took a cautious puff and waited a moment before calling Kane and Cabot. A secretary put him through to William Kane.

  ‘Mr Kane, I have found it possible to raise the money required to take over the Richmond Group. A Mr Curtis Fenton of Continental Trust will be in touch with you later today to provide you with the details. There will therefore be no necessity to place the hotels for sale on the open market.’

  There was a short pause, during which Abel thought with satisfaction how galling this news must be to William Kane.

  ‘Thank you for informing me, Mr Rosnovski. May I say how delighted I am that you’ve found someone to back you. I wish you every success for the future.’

  ‘Which is more than I wish you, Mr Kane.’

  Abel put the phone down, lay on his bed and thought about that future.

  ‘One day,’ he promised the ceiling, ‘I am going to make you want to jump out of a hotel bedroom on the seventeenth floor.’ He picked up the phone again and asked the girl on the switchboard to get him Mr Henry Osborne at Great Western Casualty.

  31

  WILLIAM WAS more amused than annoyed by Rosnovski’s belligerent attitude. He was sorry he had been unable to persuade the bank to support the proud Pole who believed so strongly that he could turn the Richmond Group around. He fulfilled his remaining responsibilities by informing the Finance Committee that Abel Rosnovski had found a backer and preparing the legal documents for the takeover of the hotels, before closing the bank’s file on the Richmond Group.

  A few days later Matthew Lester arrived in Boston to take up his position as manager of the bank’s investment portfolio. His father had made no secret of the fact that he felt any experience gained in a rival establishment would be a valuable part of Matthew’s long-term preparation to be chairman of Lester’s. William’s workload was instantly halved when Matthew joined him, although his time became even more fully occupied. He found himself dragged, protesting in mock horror, onto tennis courts and into swimming pools at every available free moment; only Matthew’s suggestion of a ski trip to Vermont brought a determined ‘No’ from William, but the increased activity at least served to distract him from his impatience to see Kate again.

  Matthew was frankly incredulous. ‘I must meet the woman who can make William Kane daydream at a board meeting that’s discussing whether the bank should buy more gold.’

  ‘Wait till you see her, Matthew. I think you’ll agree she’s pure gold.’

  ‘I believe you. I just don’t want to be the one to tell my sister. She still thinks you’re waiting for her.’

  William laughed. He’d quite forgotten about Susan Lester.

  The little pile of letters from Kate, which had been growing weekly, lay in a locked drawer of William’s bureau in the Red House. He read them over again and again, until he knew them virtually by heart. At last the one he had been waiting for arrived, appropriately dated.

  Buckhurst Park

  14 February 1930

  Dearest William,

  Finally I have packed up, sold off, given away or otherwise disposed of everything left here, and I shall be coming up to Boston on the nineteenth. I am almost frightened at the thought of seeing you again. What if this whole marvelous enchantment bursts like a bubble in the cold winter of the Eastern Seaboard? Dear God, I hope not. I can’t be sure how I would have gotten through these lonely months without your support.

  Looking forward to seeing you,

  Love,

  Kate

  The night before she was due to arrive, William promised himself that he would not rush her into anything that either of them might later regret. As he told Matthew, it was impossible to assess the extent to which her feelings for him might have been due to her emotional vulnerability after her husband’s death.

  ‘I’ve never heard such rubbish,’ said Matthew. ‘You’re in love, and that’s an end of it.’

  The moment William spotted Kate getting off the train from Miami and saw the infectious smile that lit up her face, he abandoned his cautious intentions. He pushed through the throng of travellers and took her in his arms.

  ‘Welcome home, Kate.’

  He was about to kiss her when, to his surprise, she drew back.

  ‘William, I don’t think you’ve met my parents.’

  That night William dined with the Higginson family, and discovered how beautiful Kate would be when she was an old woman. They grabbed every moment they could together, whenever William could escape from the bank’s business and Matthew’s tennis racquet. When Matthew met her for the first time, he offered William all his gold shares in exchange for one Kate.

  ‘I never undersell,’ replied William. ‘And unlike you, Matthew, I have never been interested in quantity - only quality.’

  ‘Then I insist you tell me,’ demanded Matthew, ‘where will I find such a rare commodity?’

  ‘In the liquidation department,’ replied William.

  ‘Turn her into a personal asset, William, and quickly, because if you don’t, you can be sure someone else will.’

  Abel stubbed out the Corona for a second time, swearing that he would not light another cigar until he had cleared the $2 million that he needed for complete control of the Richmond Group. This was no time for Cuban cigars, while the Dow Jones Index was at its lowest point in history and long soup lines were forming in every city in America. He gazed at the ceiling and considered his priorities. First, he needed to salvage the best staff from the Chicago Richmond.

  He climbed off the bed, put on his jacket and walked across to the Richmond annexe, where most of those who had not found employment since the fire were still living. Abel gave everyone he trusted, and who was willing to leave Chicago, a job in one of the other ten hotels. He made it clear that in these difficult times their jobs were secure only if the group started to show a profit. He was aware that all the other hotels were being run as dishonestly as the old Chicago Richmond had been. That, he assured them, would change, and change quickly. He put his three former assistant managers in charge of the Dallas Richmond, the Miami Richmond and the St Louis Richmond, and appointed new assistant managers for the remaining seven hotels - in Houston, Mobile, Charleston, Atlanta, Memphis, New Orleans and Louisville.

  Abel set up his headquarters in the Chicago Richmond annexe, and decided to open a small restaurant on the ground floor. It made sense to be based near his backer and his banker rather than to settle in one of the hotels in the South. And, just as important, Zaphia was in Chicago, and Abel was beginning to feel confident that, given time, he could replace the pimply youth.

  By the time he was ready to travel to New York to recruit more staff, Zaphia assured him she no longer had any interest in the pimply boyfriend. The night before his departure they made love for the second time. After their first experience in the lifeboat, his attentive care and gentle expertise took her by surprise.

  ‘How many girls have there been since the Black Arrow?’ she teased.

  ‘None that I really cared for,’ he replied.

  ‘Enough of them for you to forget me.’

  ‘I never forgot you,’ he said untruthfully. He leant over and kissed her
again, as it wasn’t a conversation he wished to continue.

  Kane and Cabot’s net loss in 1929 ended up at over $7 million, which turned out to be about par for a bank its size. Many smaller establishments had gone under, and William found himself conducting a sustained holding operation that kept him under constant pressure.

  When Franklin D. Roosevelt was elected President of the United States on a ticket of relief, recovery and reform, William feared that the New Deal would have little to offer Kane and Cabot. Business picked up slowly, and William found himself planning tentatively for expansion.

  Meanwhile, Tony Simmons completed several successful takeovers in London, and made a better than expected profit for Kane and Cabot during his first two years. His achievements looked all the more impressive when measured against those of William, who had barely been able to break even during the recession.

  In the autumn Alan Lloyd called Simmons back to Boston to make a full report to the board on the bank’s activities in London. At that meeting Simmons was able to announce that the year’s figures for the London office would show a profit of over a million dollars for the first time. He also let it be known that he intended to put his name forward for the chairmanship when Alan retired. William was completely taken by surprise, as he had dismissed Simmons’s chances when he had disappeared across the Atlantic under a small cloud. It seemed inexplicable that that cloud had been blown away, not by Simmons’s acuity, but simply because the British economy had been less paralysed than America’s. The abruptness of Tony Simmons’s return to favour left William with little time in which to persuade the board that they should support him before his opponent’s momentum for the chairmanship became unstoppable.

  Kate listened sympathetically to William’s problems, often offering a shrewd observation, and only occasionally admonishing him for being too gloomy. Matthew, acting as William’s eyes and ears, reported that the board was split between those who considered William too young to hold such a responsible position, and those who blamed Simmons for the extent of the bank’s losses in 1929. It seemed that most of the non-executive members of the board, who had not worked directly with William, were more influenced by the age difference between the two contenders than by any other factor. Again and again Matthew heard the words, ‘William’s time will come.’ Once, tentatively, he played the role of devil’s advocate.