Sons of Fortune - Page 141

“Don’t you sit on the Hartford school board as well as the hospital committee?”

“Yes, I do,” said Annie, “but I’ve always looked on that as working for the community.”

“Just like your father,” said Al. “By the way, how is the old bruiser?”

“We’ve just left him,” said Fletcher. “He was looking a lot better, and sends his best wishes. By the way, he wanted to know if you received his letter.”

“Yes I did. He never gives up, does he?” added Brubaker with a smile. “Why don’t we go through to the library and I’ll fix you both a drink. Jenny should be down shortly.”

“How’s your boy?”

“He’s fine, thank you, Mr. Goldblatz. His absence turned out to be caused by an affair of the heart.”

“How old is he?”

“Sixteen.”

“A proper age to fall in love. Now, my son, do you have anything to confess?”

“Yes, father, by this time next week I will be the chairman of the largest bank in the state.”

“By this time next week, you might not even be the chief executive of one of the smaller banks in the state.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Nat.

“Because what might have turned out to be a brilliant coup could have backfired, leaving you overextended. Your brokers must have warned you that there is no chance of your laying your hands on fifty percent of Fairchild’s by Monday morning.”

“It’s going to be a close-run thing,” said Nat, “and I still believe we can make it.”

“Thank heavens neither of us is a Catholic, Mr. Cartwright, otherwise you would be blushing, and I would be recommending a penance of three Hail Marys. But fear not, I see redemption for both of us.”

“Do I need redemption, father?”

“We both do, which is wh…wh…why I asked to see you. This battle has done neither of us any favors and if it continues beyond Sunday, it will harm both the institutions we serve, and possibly even close yours.”

Nat wanted to protest, but he knew that Goldblatz was right. “So what form does this redemption take?” he asked.

“Well, I think I’ve come up with a better solution than three Hail Marys, which may cleanse us both of our sins and might even show us a little profit.”

“I await your instructions, father.”

“I’ve watched your career with interest over the years, my son. You’re very bright, extremely diligent and ferociously determined, but what I admire most about you is that you’re straight—however much one of my legal advisors would have me believe otherwise.”

“I’m flattered, sir, but not overwhelmed.”

“And neither should you be. I am a realist, and I think that if you don’t succeed this time, you might well try again in a couple of years, and go on trying until you do succeed. Am I right?”

“You may well be, sir.”

“You have been frank with me, so I shall respond in kind. In eighteen months’ time I will be sixty-five, when I wish to retire to the golf course. I would like to hand over to my successor a thriving institution, not an ailing patient continually returning to the hospital for more treatment. I believe you may be the solution to my problem.”

“I thought I was the cause.”

“All the more reason for us to try and pull off a coup that is both bold and imaginative.”

“I thought that’s exactly what I was doing.”

“And you still may, my son, but for political reasons I need the whole thing to be your idea, which means, Mr. Cartwright, that you’re going to have to trust me.”

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