Chapter 37: No, I Don't

December 22, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

"You're early," Jeri declared when Karl showed me into the great room, where a roaring fire was burning in the fireplace.

"I decided to come straight from work," I replied. "I can leave if you prefer me to come back in thirty minutes."

"No. That gives us time to talk. You're unhappy with me."

"May I speak freely?"

"Sure."

"You're a manipulative bitch," I said firmly. "The only difference between you and Lisa is you try to mask it."

"Jesus, Jonathan! I'm not that bad!"

"I disagree. And that's fine, with the exception of me and others in our cabal seeking world domination. Manipulate anyone else you wish, but I'm drawing a fucking line and there is no coming back if you cross it. I wasn't kidding the other night on the phone. If you want to make a lot of money together, then you won't ever try to manipulate me or the others in the group."

"May I speak equally freely?"

"Of course."

"You're an arrogant prick who has a fantasy that he controls his own destiny and that people like me couldn't crush him in an instant."

"You're wrong," I replied. "About the fantasy, that is. I know Noel Spurgeon or Murray Matheson, and to a lesser extent you and your mom could 'crush' me as you put it. But so what? I leave Chicago, get a supervisory job in Cincinnati outside the financial services industry, finish my degree in night school, and live an accomplished middle-class life.

"That's a MASSIVE win compared to where I was. I've been poor and I know what it's like to struggle day-to-day. You and Noel Spurgeon have no fucking clue what that's like. I could lose everything and it wouldn't make much difference to me; it would kill you or Spurgeon or Matheson. And without a dime to their name, what would they do? Flip burgers at McDonald's to put food on the table? I laugh at that very thought!

"I'd do it, work my way up the ladder, and manage a restaurant. I could then turn that into a better job with them, or another chain, and I'd be happy. Is it the best possible outcome? Hell no. But it is a massive improvement from the life I lived until about eighteen months ago. So, despite your fantasy, you can't crush me. In fact, you can't even hurt me because I don't give a fuck."

"Oh yes, you do! You've tasted success and you're addicted to it like any drug!"

I laughed, "Yes, but you and I do not define success the same way! You think my aspirations are what define me, and they are in the sense that I do my best to achieve them. That said, my non 'moon shot' goal is simply to live a comfortable life. Anything else is just gravy. You'd lose your mind if you didn't have Karl and Karolin to wait on you hand and foot and James to drive you everywhere. Losing those would hurt you. I have nothing you can take that would hurt me except my life, and I doubt you're going to put a hit contract on me, though I wouldn't say the same for Lisa!"

"She does hate you with a passion," Jeri said.

"That's her problem unless she tries to fuck with me, and then she'll receive the same treatment you have. NOBODY fucks with me. Period."

"And the day when Spurgeon fucks with you?"

"It all depends on what you mean by that. I will say that I have lines I won't cross, but someone can come right up to those lines, and I'm OK with it. I won't fuck my secretary or do coke with the traders, and if that were a requirement, I'd put my job on the line to refuse."

"Even if it's just business?" Jeri asked.

"Hey, they can do whatever they want, including cheating on their spouses or sleeping with fourteen-year-old girls. Just don't ask me to do it or make me party to it beyond working for the same company."

"So you know about Spurgeon's proclivity?"

"Everyone does, which kind of surprises me, given the law."

"Remember what I said about different rules for people like Noel Spurgeon and my family? There's your perfect example. So long as none of the girls complain, and they won't, nobody will do anything. And if I understand you correctly, you don't think anyone should."

"I think it's foolish and risky, but I'm not going to turn him in."

"You slept with an underage girl."

"It wasn't the sleeping part that was the problem," I chuckled. "But you made the point, correctly, that a three-year age difference at nineteen wasn't something the law had in mind. It was men like Spurgeon, in their mid-forties or whatever, going after High School girls."

"I turn seventeen on my birthday," Jeri said with a wink and a sly smile.

"And you promised you were simply inviting me to dinner."

"I did. But if you ask, then I haven't violated the agreement, have I?"

"Technically, no."

"Technically? How?" Jeri demanded.

"By suggesting it now, you put the idea out there, letting me know it was an option."

"As if it wasn't before that? Give me a break! I told you when you decided to stop, I'd do it with you anytime, and I hoped you'd change your mind. I haven't raised it except in context, and it was YOU who actually said it."

"OK, but hinting at it, when the hints are obvious even to the most clueless person on the planet, isn't much different from saying it outright."

"Let me say this, and then I won't ever mention it again — stay over on my birthday and we'll do whatever you want to do and nothing you don't want to do. No need to answer now, just ask on my birthday."

"And your parents?" I asked.

"Fuck 'em. Let my mom have a fit for me giving it up to a commoner if she wants to. You know my take on her."

"And yet, you have many things in common, at least from how you've described her."

"Not our politics, that's for sure. And I like sex; she doesn't."

"A non-denial denial," I replied.

"You are a real prick, you know that?" Jeri asked.

"I'd say 'takes one to know one' but that term isn't used for women and I'd never use the one I've heard."

"Cunt?"

"That's the one."

"Well," Jeri smirked, "I know I promised not to mention it, but this is too good to pass up! If you're a prick and I'm a cunt, then we're made for each other!"

I laughed, "Nice. We can do business together."

Jeri smirked, but didn't say what I knew she was thinking — in her mind, sex was a business transaction. And while I might agree in some instances, I didn't think going to bed with Jeri again was wise. I felt she'd try to use it to manipulate me, albeit more subtly, and I was going to do my damndest to detect and prevent it.

"Everything is set for January 2nd, right?" she asked.

"Yes. It's actually effective the 1st, but the transaction can't occur until the 2nd."

"Do you want me to call Marcia?"

"No. I don't think you can salvage anything from that relationship. I'll stay friends with her, but I think it's best if you find someone else to add to our group."

"I was thinking about a scientist or engineer," Jeri said. "I know a couple of IIT students, one in computer science, and the other in physics, who works at IITRI."

"That doesn't seem to fit your classist view of the world," I countered. "Lawyers, bankers, and political operatives are different from grubby scientists and computer programmers."

Jeri laughed, "Listen to you!"

"Just calling them as I see them! A doctor might be a better choice, or someone at a drug company."

"Hmm. Do you know anyone who is pre-med who would fit? The only one I know is a dweeb who I wouldn't let care for my dog if I had one!"

"My friend Allyson," I replied. "She has totally the right attitude. She's a Sophomore pre-med, so my age, and I think that means it's six years before she's a doctor."

"I don't think that's a problem, and she'll be in the same financial strata as Gary and Nelson."

I chuckled, "See, I knew it!"

"I've told you how the world works, Jonathan! And I'm sure you've seen it!"

"I have. May I ask something?"

"Sure."

"Why has your mom rebuffed Spurgeon with regard to managing the Foundation's investments?"

"Control," Jeri replied. "If he has her money, he's in control; if he wants her money, she's in control."

"And control is worth passing up some of the best returns in the industry?"

"She also doesn't like his apolitical approach to investing. I asked you to manage my trust fund expressly because of that. I don't care if you invest in South Africa or Israel or a socialist hellhole like Nicaragua, so long as the returns are there. Mom would rather lose money than invest in South Africa."

"South African gold shares are a good proxy for the price of gold," I replied. "And it's much easier to take delivery! Holding gold is tough, unless you rent vault space, and that cuts into any returns you might make. Trading gold contracts, though, is just fine, so long as you net zero your positions by expiration. That said, having a percentage of your assets in physical gold is not a bad thing, though you're far better off with tax-free munis, again, given the ease of delivery and sale, and the rates of return."

"You don't like precious metals?"

"As a hedge, sure, but again, physical possession is a bitch, and if you don't have it in your vault, you don't really have it. Not to mention there's historical precedent for the government seizing all gold holdings at a price set by the government."

"FDR?"

"Yes. That's why I wouldn't take a futures contract that had an expiration more than about six months into the future. You're better off hedging dollars, pounds, yen, D-marks, or Swiss francs. None of those currencies are going away, even if the fantasy of a united Europe comes to pass."

"You think that will happen?"

"Not anytime soon," I replied. "It was floated with the creation of the EEC more than a decade ago, but nothing has come of it. And even if it did, national currencies would be convertible, so contracts would just be repriced on conversion day, and you'd have a chance to close them out if they didn't float properly. Worst case, you end up with an account balance in a national currency that is repriced without a conversion fee. But that's all speculation, and I don't see it happening this decade, and probably not the next one."

"Your knowledge has really changed since I first met you."

"I would hope so! I've studied, read, and discussed the markets as much as I possibly could. It'll be my full-time job as of March 1st."

Gary and Nelson arrived, which put an end to the private conversation I was having with Jeri. We had a good time as a group, and when it was time to leave, Jeri reminded me to call Allyson, and also let me know it was OK to arrive anytime after 5:00pm on the 2nd.

December 23, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

"Mailroom, Kane," I said when I answered the phone on Thursday, just before lunch.

"Mr. Spurgeon would like to see you," Cheryl, his new nineteen-year-old secretary, said in her breathlessly sexy voice.

"I'll be right up," I said.

I hung up and got up, wondering what it might be. Of course, as I was filling in for Mr. Nelson, it could be just about anything to do with the mailroom, Information Services, or security. The maintenance team had been disbanded, but Mr. Nelson coordinated with the building's maintenance team, so it could be that, too. Most likely, though, it was about the completion of the work on 29.

I made my way to his office via the freight elevator and a long walk down the hall to the opposite side of the building, stopping at Cheryl's desk and being rewarded with a big smile and a view of her impressive cleavage.

"Go right in," she said.

I went to the door, knocked, and stepped just inside.

"Kane here," I said to Mr. Spurgeon, whose back was turned as he stood gazing out the window at Lake Michigan.

He turned, "How are things on 29?"

"I have a walk-through scheduled for this afternoon to identify any deficiencies. They'll be rectified tomorrow, if possible, but otherwise no later than Tuesday. Assuming there is nothing major, which I'm positive there isn't because I've watched closely, we'll have the Fire Marshal do the occupancy inspection the first week in January. I'm sure Mr. Nelson made you aware of the one-week delay in the installation of the Bloomberg terminals, but everything else is here and ready to go."

"You've managed that project quite well."

"Thank you."

"I have an interesting dilemma. You brought in the single biggest piece of new business by a junior staff member and you aren't even technically a junior staff member until March 1st."

"Dilemma?"

"Usually, that person is rewarded with a trip to one of my properties — Boca, Saint Martin, or Lucerne. Doing that, though, might create consternation amongst the troops. Normally, I wouldn't give a damn, but you would displace Rich from Murray's team, and Murray gives a damn. He suggested I simply bonus you, which I will, but I want to offer an all-expenses-paid one-week trip to any European or American city you'd like to visit. Five-star hotel, top restaurants, everything, for two. The value is more than twice the cash bonus. You decide."

To me, it was a no brainer. Every dollar I had now was worth many times as many dollars in the future. As much as I wanted to travel, I could do that at my leisure in the future, preferably with my fiancée or wife, before we had kids. And invested properly, I could have both the money and the trip.

"I'll take the cash bonus," I replied.

"God damn it!" he growled. "Murray was right, and I lost the bet!"

He delivered that epithet with a smile, though, indicating he wasn't actually upset.

"What did it cost you?" I asked.

"Dinner for Murray and a guest at Chez Paul with no limit on the choice of wine or champagne."

That could easily be a $1000 dinner, as there were some truly expensive wines and champagnes available according to an article I'd read in the Trib.

"May I ask why you would take that side of the bet?"

"You haven't been anywhere except Ohio and Illinois, right? And grew up with no real means?"

I nodded, "I see your point, and that's true, but one thing that my mom impressed on me was the value of saving, and even though she didn't make the point directly, investing. Good returns require significant capital, and increasing my stake now means a larger stake in the future, and the ability to take advantage of market opportunities that might not otherwise be available."

"Solid logic," he said. "But wealth is also meant to be enjoyed."

"I agree. When I'm wealthy, I'll enjoy it! Until then, it's about the accumulation of wealth with everything else taking a back seat. It's in your best interest for me to focus on analyzing the markets for Mr. Matheson, as well as building my personal wealth and bringing in new business."

"I no longer frighten you?" Mr. Spurgeon asked.

I smiled, "No. I respect you, and I'm in awe of your ability to generate over-performing returns, but I'm not afraid to come into your office."

"Good. If you were, I'd have no use for you, signed employment contract or no signed employment contract. If you're going to make me money, you have to be willing and able to tell me the truth, and only the truth. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"No hedging, either. Words, I mean, financial hedges are our business. If I ask your opinion, I do not want an answer I'd get from a fucking economist!"

I smiled, "Harry Truman?"

"Exactly. I do not want to hear 'on one hand ... but on the other hand'. Tell me what's going to happen, or don't waste my time."

"Sometimes it's a percentage call," I countered.

"Everything is a percentage call!"

"But you size the action in the market to the risk and potential," I countered. "I wouldn't place nearly as big a bet on 51/49 as I would on 80/20, for example."

"And you can state that without sounding wishy-washy or mealy mouthed."

I nodded, "An underweight, normal, or overweight position."

"Exactly. When a client says 'tell me how to make money' the answer is not 'well, you could... ' it's 'here is your strategy and how I would execute it'. Anything else makes them question us and potentially go somewhere else. We do not follow the market, and you know why."

I grinned, "As Mr. Matheson said to me, it's like following the elephants in a circus parade or the Clydesdales pulling the Budweiser wagon. All you do is wade through the piles of shit they leave behind them."

"Remember that, Kane. We lead, we don't follow. Any idiot can follow the market and make 'street' returns. Sure, they'll make low six figures fleecing grandma and grandpa for large management fees that grandma and grandpa could avoid by buying into a no-load fund from T-Rowe Price, but they could never work here."

"I'll remember."

"Good. Cheryl has a check for you. She also has a revised letter changing your start date on Matheson's team to January 17th."

"I promised Mr. Nelson I would stay on until everything was completed."

"Let me worry about Nelson. Clinton can take over your job, right?"

"Yes, Sir, he can."

"And I can have fifty applicants for his job on Tuesday if I run an ad in Sunday's paper. If it weren't Christmas, I'd have two hundred. Your value to the firm is that money you brought in, not chasing fucking copier companies."

"OK. May I say something? Two things, actually?"

"Don't ask permission, Kane. Speak your mind. If you don't, we're leaving money on the table and missing opportunities."

"First, I'd like to order an Apple IIe for my desk. It's an upgraded version of the one I have in the mailroom that is being released next month. I've developed portfolio management spreadsheets that don't require paying for reports to be created on the mainframe and work when the mainframe is offline."