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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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BOOK: Sons of Fortune
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“I
don’t think it would be wise for me to go with you,” said Annie.

“But
you’re my lucky mascot, and...”


dis
. and Dr.
Redpath
says it
wouldn’t be wise.” Fletcher reluctantly accepted that he would have to make the
journey to New York alone.

Annie
was in her seventh month of pregnancy, and although there had been no
complications, he never argued with the doctor.

Fletcher
had been delighted to be invited back for a second interview with Alexander
Dupont
and Bell, and wondered how many of the other
candidates had been short-listed. He had a feeling Karl Abrahams knew, though
the professor wasn’t sharing any confidences.

When
the train pulled into Central Station, Fletcher took a taxi to 54th Street,
arriving outside the vast entrance lobby twenty minutes early. He had been told
that on one occasion a candidate had arrived three minutes late, so they didn’t
bother to interview him.

He
took the elevator to the thirty-sixth floor and was directed by the
receptionist to a spacious room that was almost as smart as the senior
partner’s office. Fletcher sat alone and wondered if that was a good sign,
until a second candidate joined him a few minutes before nine. He smiled at
Fletcher.

“Logan
Fitzgerald,” he said, his hand outstretched. “I heard you address the freshman
debate at Yale. Your speech on Vietnam was brilliant, although I didn’t agree
with a word you said.”

“You
were at Yale?”

“No,
I was visiting my brother. I went to Princeton, and I guess we both know why
we’re here.”

“How
many others are there, do you imagine?” asked Fletcher.

“Looking
at the clock, I would suggest we’re the last two. So all I can say is good
luck.”

“I
am sure you mean that sincerely,” said Fletcher with a grin.

The
door opened and a woman who Fletcher remembered as Mr. Alexander’s secretary
addressed them. “Gentlemen, if you’ll come this way,” she said.

“Thank
you, Mrs. Townsend,” said Fletcher, whose father had once told him never to
forget a secretary’s name-after all, they spend more time with the boss than
his wife ever does. The two candidates followed her out of the room, and
Fletcher wondered if Logan could possibly be as nervous as he was.

On
either side of the long carpeted corridor the names of the partners were
lettered in gold beside each oak-paneled door they passed. William Alexander’s
was the last before the conference room.

Mrs.
Townsend knocked gently on the door, opened it and stood to one side as
twenty-five men and three women rose from their places and began to applaud.

“Please
be seated,” said Bill Alexander, once the applause had died down. “May I be the
first to congratulate you both on being offered the opportunity to join
Alexander
Dupont
and Bell, but be warned, the next
time you’ll hear such approbation from your colleagues will be when you’re
invited to become a partner, and that won’t be for at least seven years. During
the morning you will have meetings with different members of the executive
committee who between them should be able to answer any of your questions.
Fletcher, you have been assigned to Matthew
Cunliffe
,
who heads up our criminal office, while you, Logan, will report directly to
Graham Simpson in mergers and acquisitions. At twelve thirty, you will both
return and join the partners for lunch.”

The
midday meal turned out to be a friendly affair after the grueling process of
interviews; the partners stopped behaving like Mr. Hyde and reverted to being
Dr. Jekyll. Roles they played every day with clients and adversaries.

“They
tell me that you are both going to be top of your respective classes,” said
Bill Alexander, after the main course was served-there had been no first course
or drink supplied, other than bottled water. “And I can only hope so, because I
haven’t yet decided which offices to assign you to.”

“And
should one of us flunk?” asked Fletcher nervously.

“Then
you will spend your first year in the mail room, delivering briefs to other law
firms,”

Mr.
Alexander paused.
“On foot.”
No one laughed, and
Fletcher couldn’t be sure if he meant it. The senior partner was about to
continue when there was a knock on the door and his secretary reappeared.

“There’s
a call for you on line three, Mr. Alexander.”

“I
said no interruptions, Mrs. Townsend.”

“It’s
an emergency, sir.”

Bill
Alexander picked up the boardroom phone; the scowl on his face turned to a
smile as he listened intently. “I’ll let him know,” he said and put the phone
down.

“Let
me be the first to congratulate you, Fletcher,” said the senior partner.
Fletcher was puzzled because he knew final grades wouldn’t be published for at
least another week. “You’re the proud father of a little girl. Mother and
daughter are doing just fine. I knew the moment I met that girl she was just
the kind of woman we appreciate at Alexander
Dupont
and Bell.”

“LUCY.”

“But what about Ruth or Martha?”

“We
can give her all three names,” said Fletcher, “which will make both our mothers
happy, but we’ll call her Lucy.” He smiled as he gently placed his daughter
back in her crib.

“And
have you thought about where we’re going to live?” asked Annie. “I don’t want
Lucy brought up in New York.”

“I
agree,” said Fletcher, as he tickled his daughter under the chin, “I’ve been
talking to Matt
Cunliffe
and he told me he faced the
same problem when he joined the firm.”

“So
what does Matt recommend?”

“He
suggested three or four small towns in New Jersey that are less than an hour
away by train from Penn Station. So I thought we might drive up there next
Friday and spend a long weekend seeing if there’s any particular area we like.”

“I
suppose we’ll have to rent a place to begin with,” said Annie, “until we’ve
saved enough to buy something of our own.”

“It
seems not, because the firm would prefer us to purchase our own property.”

“It’s
all very well for the firm to prefer something, but what if we simply can’t
afford it?”

“That
doesn’t seem to pose a problem either,” said Fletcher, “because Alexander
Dupont
and Bell will cover the cost with an interest-free
loan.”

“That’s
very generous of them,” said Annie, “but if I know Bill Alexander, there has to
be an ulterior motive.”

“There
sure is,” said Fletcher. “It ties you into the firm, and Alexander
Dupont
and Bell are very proud of having the smallest
turnover of employees of any legal practice in New York. It’s becoming obvious
to me that once they’ve gone to all the trouble of selecting you and training
you in their ways, they then make damn sure they don’t lose you to a rival
firm.”

“Sounds
to me like a shotgun marriage,” said Annie. She paused. “Have you ever
mentioned your political ambitions to Mr. Alexander?”

“No,
I wouldn’t have passed first base if I had, and in any case, who knows how I’ll
feel in two or three years’ time?”

“I
know exactly how you’ll feel,” said Annie, “in two years, ten years, twenty
years. You’re happiest when you’re running for something, and I’ll never forget
when Dad was reelected to the Senate, you were the only person who was more
excited about the result than he was.”

“Don’t
ever let Matt
Cunliffe
hear you say that,” said
Fletcher with a smile, “because you can be sure Bill Alexander would know about
it ten minutes later, and the firm is just not interested in anyone who isn’t
fully committed. Remember their
motto,
there are
twenty-five billing hours in every day.
his
When Su
Ling woke, she could hear Nat on the phone in the next room. She wondered who
he could possibly be talking to so early in the morning. She heard the phone
click, and a moment later her husband returned to the bedroom.

“I
want you up and packed, little flower, because we have to be out of here in
under an hour.”

“What
...?”

“In
under an hour.”

Su
Ling jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. “Captain Cartwright, am I
allowed to know where you are taking me?” she called above the sound of running
water.

“All
will be revealed once we’re on the plane, Mrs. Cartwright.”

“Which
direction?” she asked the moment the taps had been turned off.

“I’ll
tell you when the plane has taken off, not before.”

“Are
we going home?”

“No,”
said Nat, without offering to elaborate.

Once
she was dry, Su Ling concentrated on what to wear while Nat picked up the phone
again.

“An
hour doesn’t give a girl a lot of time,” said Su Ling.

“That
was the idea,” said Nat, who was asking the front desk if they could order him
a cab.

“Damn,”
said Su Ling as she looked at all the presents. “There just isn’t going to be
enough room to cram them all in.”

Nat
replaced the receiver, walked over to the cupboard and produced a suitcase
she’d never seen before. “Gucci?” she asked, surprised by Nat’s unusual
extravagance.

“I
don’t think so,” said Nat, “not for ten dollars.”

Su
Ling laughed as her husband picked up the phone once more. “I need a porter and
could the bill be ready by the time we come down, as we’ll be checking out.” He
paused, listened, and said, “Ten minutes.”

He
turned to see Su Ling buttoning up her blouse. He thought about her finally
falling asleep the night before, and his decision to leave Korea as quickly as
possible. Every moment spent in that city would only remind her. .

At
the airport Nat waited in line to collect the tickets, and thanked the woman
behind the counter for dealing with his early morning request so promptly. Su
Ling had gone off to order breakfast while he checked their bags in. Nat then
took the escalator to the first-floor restaurant, to find his wife seated in a
corner, chatting to a waitress.

“I
haven’t ordered for you,” she said as Nat joined her, “because I told the
waitress that after a week of marriage I wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

Nat
looked up at the waitress. “Yes, sir?” she said.

“Two
eggs, sunny side up, bacon, hash browns and black coffee.”

The
waitress studied her pad. “Your wife has already ordered that for you.”

Nat
turned and looked at Su Ling. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll
find out once we’re at the gate, and if you go on being a nuisance, not until
we land.”

“B
..”
she began.

“I’ll
blindfold you if necessary,” said Nat as the waitress returned with a pot of
steaming coffee.

“Now
I need to ask you some serious questions,” Nat said, and saw that Su Ling
immediately tensed. He pretended not to notice. He would have to remember not
to tease her too much for the next few days as she so obviously still had one
thing uppermost in her mind.

“I
recall your telling my mother that when Japan came online with the computer
revolution, the entire technological process would speed up.”

“We’re
going to Japan?”

“No,
we’re not,” said Nat, as his order was placed in front of him. “Now
concentrate, because I may have to rely on your expertise.”

“The
whole industry is on the gallop right now,” said Su Ling, “Canon, Sony, Fujitsu
have already overtaken the Americans. Why? Are you thinking of looking into new
IT companies? In which case, you should consider...”

“Yes
and no,” said Nat as he turned his head and listened carefully to an
announcement on the PA system. He checked the bill and covered it with his last
few Korean notes, and then stood up.

“Going
somewhere, are we, Captain Cartwright?” asked Su Ling.

“Well,
I am,” said Nat, “because that was my last call, and by the way, if you have other
plans, I’ve got the tickets and the travelers’ checks.”

“Then
I’m stuck with you, aren’t I?” said Su Ling as she quickly drained her coffee
and checked the departure board to see which gate was showing final calls.
There were at least a dozen. “Honolulu?” she said as she caught up with him.

“Why
would I want to take you to Honolulu?” asked Nat.

“To
lie on the beach and make love all day.”

“No,
we’re going somewhere where we can meet my former lovers by day, while we still
make love all night.”

“Saigon?”
said Su Ling, as another city flicked up on the 215 departure board. “Are we
going to visit the scene of Captain Cartwright’s past triumphs?”

“Wrong
direction,” said Nat, as he continued walking toward the international
departure gate.

BOOK: Sons of Fortune
10.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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