A Dangerous Fortune - Ken Follett [131]
“Yes. I have a copy.”
The sheets of paper bore the letterhead of the Hotel Russe, Berwick Street, Soho. Hugh had never heard of it: it was not one of London’s fancy establishments. “I’ll let you know what the partners say.”
“Thank you.” Tonio changed the subject. “I’m sorry our conversation has been all business. Let’s get together and talk about the old days.”
“You must meet my wife.”
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll get in touch.” Hugh left the coffeehouse and walked back to the bank. When he looked at the big clock in the banking hall he was surprised it was not yet one o’clock: so much had happened this morning. He went straight to the Partners’ Room, where he found Samuel, Joseph and Edward. He handed Tonio’s article to Samuel, who read it and passed it on to Edward.
Edward became apoplectic with rage and was unable to finish it. He went red in the face, pointed his finger at Hugh and said: “You’ve cooked this up with your old school friend! You’re trying to undermine our entire South American business! You’re just jealous of me because you weren’t made a partner!”
Hugh understood why he was so hysterical. The South American trade was Edward’s only significant contribution to business. If that went he was useless. Hugh sighed. “You were Bonehead Ned at school, and you still are,” he said. “The question is whether the bank wants to be responsible for increasing the power and influence of Papa Miranda, a man who apparently thinks nothing of flogging women and murdering children.”
“I don’t believe that!” Edward said. “The Silva family are enemies of the Mirandas. This is just malicious propaganda.”
“I’m sure that’s what your friend Micky will say. But is it true?”
Uncle Joseph looked suspiciously at Hugh. “You came in here just a few hours ago and tried to talk me out of this issue. I have to wonder whether this whole thing isn’t some scheme to undermine Edward’s first major piece of business as a partner.”
Hugh stood up. “If you’re going to cast doubt on my good faith I’ll leave right away.”
Uncle Samuel stepped in. “Sit down, Hugh,” he said. “We don’t have to find out whether this tale is true or not. We’re bankers, not judges. The fact that the Santamaria railroad is going to be controversial makes the bond issue riskier, and that means we have to reconsider.”
Uncle Joseph said aggressively: “I’m not willing to be bullied. Let this South American popinjay publish his article and go to the devil.”
“That’s one way to handle it,” Samuel mused, treating Joseph’s belligerence more seriously than it deserved. “We can wait and see what effect the article has on the price of existing South American stocks: there aren’t many, but it’s enough to serve as a gauge. If they crash, we’ll cancel the Santamaria railroad. If not, we go ahead.”
Joseph, somewhat mollified, said: “I don’t mind submitting to the decision of the market.”
“There is one other option we might consider,” Samuel went on. “We could get another bank to come in with us on the issue of bonds, and float it jointly. That way, any hostile publicity would be enfeebled by having a divided target.”
That made a lot of sense, Hugh thought. It was not what he would have done: he would prefer to cancel the bond issue. But the strategy worked out by Samuel would minimize the risk, and that was what banking was all about. Samuel was a much better banker than Joseph.
“All right,” Joseph said with his usual impulsiveness. “Edward, see if you can find us a partner.”
“Who should I approach?” Edward said anxiously. Hugh realized he had no idea how to go about something like this.
Samuel answered him. “It’s a big issue. On reflection, not many banks would want such a big exposure to South America. You should go to Greenbournes: they might be the only people big enough to take the risk. You know Solly Greenbourne, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’ll see him.”
Hugh wondered whether he should advise Solly to turn Edward down, and immediately thought better of it: he was being hired as an expert on North America, and it would seem presumptuous if he started out by passing