Too Big to Fail [243]
“I am convinced that this bold approach will cost American families far less than the alternative—a continuing series of financial institution failures and frozen credit markets unable to fund economic expansion,” he asserted, clearly reading from his script, having never learned how to read from a teleprompter.
Evidently confident that Washington had finally brought the financial crisis under control—between Paulson’s TARP and Cox’s ban on short-sellers—the stock market had risen 300 points at the open and continued to hold its ground as Paulson spoke.
Paulson had intentionally chosen not to mention how much the program would cost; after a briefing earlier that morning from Kashkari, he now feared that he might actually need more than the $500 billion he had mentioned to the president a day earlier—a great deal more. Back in his office after the speech, he met with Fromer and Kashkari and debated what the precise cost might be.
“What about $1 trillion?” Kashkari said.
“We’ll get killed,” Paulson said grimly.
“No way,” Fromer said, incredulous at the sum. “Not going to happen. Impossible.”
“Okay,” Kashkari said. “How about $700 billion?”
“I don’t know,” Fromer said. “That’s better than $1 trillion.”
The numbers were, at best, guesstimates, and all three men knew it. The relevant figure would ultimately be the one that represented the most they could possibly ask from Congress without raising too many questions. Whatever that sum turned out to be, they knew they could count on Kashkari to perform some sort of mathematical voodoo to justify it: “There’s around $11 trillion of residential mortgages, there’s around $3 trillion of commercial mortgages, that leads to $14 trillion, roughly five percent of that is $700 billion.” As he plucked numbers from thin air even Kashkari laughed at the absurdity of it all.
John Mack had been watching CNBC on Friday morning when he received a phone call from Lloyd Blankfein. Charlie Gasparino, still reveling in his scoop about the government’s toxic asset program, was arguing that it meant that Morgan Stanley would no longer be forced to do a deal, or at least not have to move as quickly.
Mack, laughing to himself, knew better; he had to get something accomplished by the weekend or Morgan Stanley could well go the way of Lehman Brothers.
“What do you think of becoming a bank holding company?” Blankfein asked Mack when he picked up the receiver.
Mack hadn’t really studied the issue and asked, “Would that help us?”
Blankfein said that Goldman had been investigating the possibility and explained to him the benefits—namely, that if they allowed themselves to be regulated by the Federal Reserve, they’d have unlimited access to the discount window and would have an easier time raising capital, among other things.
“Well, in the long run it would really help us,” Mack said. “In the short run, however, I don’t know if you can pull it off fast enough to help us.”
“You have to hang on,” Blankfein urged him, clearly still anxious about how punishing the markets had become, “because I’m thirty seconds behind you.”
John Pruzan, the Morgan Stanley banker who had been assigned to review Wachovia’s $120 billion mortgage portfolio—to crack the tape—finally had some answers. A team of Morgan bankers in New York, London, and Hong Kong had worked overnight to sift through as many mortgages as they humanly could.
“Now I know why they didn’t want to give us the tape!” Pruzan announced dourly at a meeting before they headed over to Wachtell Lipton to begin diligence on Wachovia. “It shows they’re expecting a nineteen percent cumulative loss.”
Just a week earlier, at a public presentation at Lehman’s conference, Bob Steel had estimated that figure at 12 percent. In fairness, Pruzan noted, the market had deteriorated markedly since then, and