Drummer In the Dark (21 page)

Jackie held the T-shirt to her front, aware of how many legs and shoes were crowding about her. Strangers all. “You think we could cram a few more people in here?”

Anna strung together a verbal push, and the room quickly emptied. Jackie lifted a blood-stained shoe and told the doctor, “They also hit my leg.” Sounds of protest lifted her head in time to see the driver being shoved towards the door. “Let him stay a moment, please.”

When calm was restored and the door closed, Jackie said to the driver, “I can’t thank you enough.”

“It is no problem,
signora
.” He grinned broadly. “We make a good chase, yes? Like the movies.”

She watched the doctor begin to cut away her trouser leg. “My things are all at the hotel. I’d really rather not go back there.”

Anna understood immediately. “They may still be after you?”

“I think so.”

There followed a swift exchange between the driver and Anna. Then she said, “Someone will return with the driver and check you out. We will keep you here. How long do you stay?”

“I’d like to leave tomorrow for America, if I can.”

Another discussion, this one including the doctor. The driver pulled a cellphone from his pocket and dialed. Anna told her, “Your cuts are not too deep. The driver thinks the hotel will not give out your name. The Hassler would not like to say a guest was attacked on their doorstep, you understand?”

“Yes.” She felt two pinpricks, local anesthetics for her leg and shoulder. Then the queasy tugging of thread being sewn.

The driver pocketed his phone and reported, “Is no problem.”

Jackie said to the driver, “I’m so sorry about your car.”

The driver’s smile was tainted by the sight of the doctor’s work. “Was not my car,
signora
. And the hotel is very rich.”

Anna said, “I fear our chambers will be not so nice.”

Jackie leaned forward and shut her eyes to the pile of bloody gauze. “If they’re safe, it will be just fine.”

29

Thursday

T
HE NEXT MORNING the traders presented Colin with a bottle of champagne and a tiny bejeweled tree. Eric gave a little speech that started, “On behalf of King Elvis and all his loyal subjects—”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Colin warned. “You’ll meet the street long before your time.”

“You going to let me do this or not?” Up and down the aisles, traders moved in to be a part of the fun. “Okay. In recognition of your part in ridding us of the menace, we hereby bestow upon you these tokens of our undying gratitude.”

Colin made no move to accept. The tree was as high as his hand, gold plated, and had tiny crystal leaves at the end of each branch. “Who is rid of what?”

This only made the traders grin harder. Eric replied, “Take a look upstairs.”

Colin was anything but pleased to see the balcony absolutely empty. “That’s not possible.”

“All thanks to you and the bugs you found.” Eric shoved the tree and bottle into Colin’s hands. “Enjoy.”

Colin was still giving the balcony his bleakest inspection when Alex moved up beside him. “You’re not fooled by this either.”

“Hayek wouldn’t fire them all just because one guy stepped over the line,” Colin agreed.

“Which means they’ve been buried somewhere.” Alex surveyed the traders prepping themselves for the battle ahead. “There are days,” he said softly, “so intense, I walk out and can’t believe it’s the same sun shining as when I went in. Ice ages should have passed. Civilizations risen and fallen. Eons melt and flow and still I’m in here, fighting the market.”

Colin studied the spots market chief. At this proximity it was easier to see the permanent stains of commercial war, the wounds to face and gaze and spirit. “This thing really has you worried.”

“If he’s planning to feed the new group data we can’t access, we might as well hang up our guns and go farm sheep.” Alex circled one finger overhead, gathering up his troops. “Let’s go see if we can discover the battle plan.”

T
HEY CROWDED INTO the elevator together, the five senior traders who could be pulled off the floor, and Colin. He was squashed up next to the hard barrel belly of the derivatives chief, a red-cheeked man who stank of some prehistoric aftershave. The ride was silent. But when the doors opened, the trader planted a meaty paw on Colin’s shoulder and told him, “Nice work finding those listening devices, kiddo. Definitely one for the late night tales.”

Hayek himself was out in the front office to greet them. A first. As was the solicitous apology for disturbing their week. “Such a nuisance to discover a new member of the team has proven so unreliable. Please, gentlemen, ladies, accept my sincerest regrets for such a disastrous intrusion.”

Hayek gave them an open-armed escort, leading and guiding both. Colin spotted the attractive Washington lobbyist in the waiting room and wondered if she had somehow been involved.

The senior traders entered Hayek’s office like infidels passing through cathedral doors. They shuffled a bit and they craned and searched and cleared their throats, and wished themselves back down in the fray. Most came up only when there was a major offering, their presentation carefully orchestrated. There was no script here. No precedent, no deal. Only the sullen rage of people who knew they had been wronged.

Hayek directed them through his office and into the conference area. To their amazement, the table was decked out with gourmet fast food. Spode china. Crystal goblets for the soft drinks. Blinis. Silver palavers for the smoked salmon and the French air-dried
saucisson
. A cheese board on a traditional reed mat, six different selections. Iced caviar. Baskets of fresh-baked bread. Two waiters in solemn white livery. Hayek showed eager concern as they made their selections, taking nothing for himself until all were served. Gradually he eased them away from the purpose of their meeting with kingly grace, until all but Alex were chatting and eating heartily. The more they talked, the quieter Hayek grew. He ate almost nothing.

Without preamble, Hayek launched into his spiel. “I made a grave error, bringing the new group in as I did. The fact is, we are in the process of receiving new investment capital. A significant portion comes from a source who insists their funds be kept separate. I have done my best to explain that this makes no sense, that we all trade using the same information. It may actually hurt them in the long run not to have access to the full power of our floor. But they have insisted. And quite frankly, the size of their investment is such that we cannot refuse. So I attempted to move this new group in first, intending to explain things once we had sorted out the situation. I now recognize this to have been a grave error. I apologize. I have therefore moved the entire team into the Capital Markets section of First Florida Bank.”

It was the longest speech Colin had ever heard the man make. The accent was clearer now, the tone barrel-rich and commanding. “As for the insertion of the electronic monitoring devices, I am utterly baffled. It was a grave error. The person responsible has been punished.”

Only when Hayek fell silent did they realize this was all they were going to get. Alex searched the faces of his compatriots and realized no one else was going to ask the obvious. “How much new money?”

“Four billion is to be directed into the First Florida Fund.”

There was a low whistle, an intake of breath. Four billion would not bring the new fund anywhere near the top ranks, but it was enough to carry weight. Four billion would establish First Florida as a player. But before the dismay could take hold, Hayek added, by way of an aside, “And an additional eleven billion into the Hayek ordinary fund.”

The traders turned jubilant. Eleven billion was enough to make waves on Wall Street. Many of these senior guys had followed Hayek south against their own better judgment, hoping for a coup such as this. Eleven billion in new ready cash would have them talking as far away as Tokyo. It was a clean hit for the home team. Eleven billion meant a huge upsurge in fresh trades. And increased bonuses all around.

Only Alex remained unfazed by the news. He cast the others a furious glance for forcing him into the limelight alone. “Any particular reason why we get all this money now?”

“We have been courting these funds for almost a year. The timing is theirs. We can only be glad the sources have chosen us above all the competition, and must do our best to offer them a solid return.” To their surprise, Hayek actually smiled. “I like a man who thinks of the downside even when things look positive. I have been forced to send Mr. Burke over to manage the new fund. I need a new top man, my personal link to the markets. Are you interested?”

Alex blinked. “Thank you, Mr. Hayek. But my place is on the floor.”

“Very well.” Hayek rose to his feet. “Thank you for your time. I shall not keep you from your work.”

Obediently they began filing out. Hayek added, “Remain behind if you will, Mr. Ready.”

When the room had emptied, Hayek asked, “Anything more on our huntress and her companions?”

“Nothing, sir. It’s like they’ve disappeared.”

“Very well. Keep me posted.”

The Washington lobbyist was still there when Colin departed. He paid her scant notice, as Alex waited for him by the elevator. The other traders were gone. When the elevator doors slid them into isolation, Alex asked, “What did the King say to you?”

“There’s a local woman hired by a troublemaker up in Washington. Hayek’s had me trace her. She’s a nonstarter, believe me.”

Alex chewed on his upper lip, muttered, “He didn’t give us enough.”

“Just because they’re moved off-site doesn’t mean the threat is gone,” Colin agreed.

“The man’s not perfect, much as he’d like us to believe otherwise. Did you ever hear about what happened in Ecuador?”

Colin glanced at him. These were confidences of a new order. “Rumors only. Something about how he almost lost his silk shirt, then went on a rampage.”

“I’ve heard enough to be fairly certain the rumors are all true. It happened just before Hayek made the move south.” Alex stabbed at the elevator controls, the machine not moving at a trader’s speed. “Wonder what he’s calling the new group.”

“How about the Elvis Fund,” Colin suggested, then worried he had gone too far.

Alex gave him the tight rictus grin of a man ready for battle. “You’re okay, kid. Ever wanted to give the floor a shot?”

“Not a chance in all the whole wide world,” Colin replied solemnly. “Thanks just the same.”

Alex was already moving before the doors slid open. “And smart to boot.”

B
URKE WAITED UNTIL the last of the traders and the techie had left before emerging from the alcove behind the conference area, where Hayek had a private bathroom and dressing area. Burke stepped into the open, still uncertain why he had not simply been invited to join the others. Hayek stood by the window behind his desk, staring out at the fountain and the glimmering afternoon. Hayek asked, “You heard?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think the trader who spoke, what was his name. Did he believe me?”

“Probably not. It was Alex. Senior spot trader.” Burke remained standing beside the chair. “You offered him my job.”

Hayek remained silent.

“Am I out?” The mere possibility was a pain that threatened to twist his guts into a Pythagorean knot. Hayek had raged at Brant Anker for inserting the module but had not fired him. And had said nothing to Burke. Yet. “I had no idea Anker would—”

“Did I ever tell you what happened to my former aide?”

He swallowed. “No.”

“It was after Ecuador.” Hayek turned around then, revealing the stress lines racing out from his eyes and mouth. The rage. “Certainly you’ve heard the rumors swirling about downstairs.”

Burke found himself comparing this to Hayek’s earlier tirade. This was definitely real. The other now seemed mere theatrics. But why? “I try not to listen.”

“Ah, but you should. The only way to profit from past mistakes is to study and dissect and study further. Ecuador was a mistake. A grave one. Undoubtedly the worst of my career. But I have studied and I have learned.”

Hayek began to pace back and forth in front of the window, trapped by bars of unyielding sunlight and harsher memories. “The Ecuadorian setting was perfect for a huge financial coup—official corruption, a massive banking crisis, El Nino–driven crop failure, falling commodity prices. Inflation stood at thirty-two percent a month and rising. The Ecuadorian currency, the sucre, stood poised on the precipice. Working through confidential intermediaries based in the Cook Islands, I bought sucres with both fists. I then went short on almost the entire Ecuadorian stock market. I bought sell options for every Ecuadorian raw material. I prepared to push the currency and the country over the edge.

“Then the gray ghosts at Treasury caught wind of my plans. I have tried without success to discover the source of the leak, to no avail. At first I assumed it was their brother spooks at Langley who uncovered my plot. But evidence kept cropping up. Signs that the information was less than complete. If it had been Langley, I would not be here today. The case would have been too perfect. I would have been stripped clean and defeated.”

Hayek turned to him then. Beneath the silver-white brows his eyes were beyond black, fire blazing hot in a molasses pit. “No. Some blasted social charity outfit, a measly group of grubby do-gooders,
they
were the ones who managed to pierce my intricate veil. Their evidence was not enough to destroy, merely wound. Sant’Egidio was the most likely source of my woes, but I have never managed to prove this. Have you ever heard of the group?”

Relief swept through Burke in a flood surge so strong he could have wept. This was not about him at all. Hayek would not have revealed such incriminating evidence to somebody on the way out. Burke slumped into a chair because he had to. “No.”

“An international chain of pests and meddlers of the first order. They are the reason why burning at the stake should never have been banned. Someone flew down and told the president of Ecuador what I had planned. The president came up with a response no one had anticipated. Overnight they froze exchange rates at below what I had paid, dumped the sucre, and adopted the U.S. dollar as the official Ecuadorian currency.” Hayek paused long enough to give Burke a thin-lipped grimace. But it was doubtful he saw his aide at all. “Needless to say, I was enraged. I took the logical move, which was to finance a coup. And the coup succeeded marvelously. Three days later, a ragtag band of left-leaning Indians and the military was in power—a crippling concoction if I had ever seen one.”

He resumed his taut pacing. “But those muddling idiots in Foggy Bottom would not leave it alone. Under pressure from Washington, the coup leaders backed down, and power was handed over to Vice President Noboa. Overnight, the dollar transfer was back on.

“But my own trauma did not end there. I then received a visitor, some nameless gray specter from the Treasury Department. Someone utterly removed from my lobbyists and power politics and the influence I have garnered over elected officials. This Washington apparition looked down at me in the most humiliating manner, spoke around his mouthful of Ivy League marbles, and said they would not be going after me. The U.S. financial markets were already nervous after the Long-Term Credit debacle. So I was simply going to swallow my sucres and never exercise my options. All eight hundred million dollars worth. Amazingly, this spook actually had the correct figure, despite my best attempts to hide my actions. The American government made a paper write-off of this amount from Ecuador’s outstanding sucre debt. Which meant I had effectively financed the country’s transfer to a dollar economy.”

Hayek stared out the window and said in a tone dulled by old fury, “I learned my lesson well. I removed myself from the porous Street, where information is bandied about by everyone from the bus drivers to the corner newsboy. But I did not move so far away as to raise warning flags with the SEC. I began paying careful attention to the do-gooders and their interference. I established a new electronic security system. And I replaced my entire senior team. I doubt seriously they had anything to do with my failure, most of them probably had no idea what had happened. Only four people even knew what I had planned. But I fired them anyway, as a warning to all future employees that failure of any kind was not to be tolerated.”