‘Hold my calls for the next quarter of an hour.’
‘Of course, Mr Wade.’
‘No, make that half an hour.’
‘Yes, Mr Wade. Enjoy your reading.’
There’s a hint of amusement in her voice. I think she knows why I’ve taken this time. After all, she was the one who brought in the copy of the
But what interests me most is the name of the writer.
I start reading the article and it takes me a couple of columns to realize that it’s damned good. I’m so surprised that I reserve the right to feel proud for a second time. Russell has the ability to draw the reader in and not let go of him. Of course, the story’s a pretty gripping one anyway, but I must say he tells it brilliantly.
The light on the intercom comes on and my secretary’s voice takes me by surprise.
‘Mr Wade-’
‘What is it? I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.’
‘Your son’s here.’
‘Send him in.’
I slip the copy of the newspaper into my desk drawer. If anyone asked, I’d say I did it in order not to embarrass my son.
I’d be lying.
I really did it in order not to embarrass myself. I hate feeling embarrassed. It’s a feeling I’ve sometimes spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to avoid.
After a couple of moments, Russell comes in. He looks calm and rested. He’s wearing decent clothes and has even shaved.
‘Hi, Dad.’
‘Hello, Russell. I must congratulate you. You seem to have become a celebrity. And I’m sure it’ll make you a whole lot of money.’
He shrugs. ‘There are some things in life that money can’t buy.’
I reply with a similar gesture. ‘I’m sure there are, but I’m not very familiar with them. In my life I’ve always dealt with the other things.’
He sits down facing me and looks me in the eyes. It’s a nice feeling.
‘Enough of the two-bit philosophizing,’ I say. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’m here to thank you. And I’m also here on business.’
I wait for him to continue. In spite of everything, my son has always had the ability to arouse my curiosity. Not to mention the ability to make me lose my temper like no one else.
‘Without your help, I’d never have achieved the results I did. I’ll be eternally grateful to you for that.’
I’m very pleased to hear these words. I’d never have imagined that one day I’d hear them from Russell’s mouth. But I’m still curious.
‘And what kind of business do you have with me?’
‘You have something of mine that I’d like to buy back.’
At last I understand, and I can’t help smiling. I open the desk drawer and from under the newspaper take out the contract he signed in return for my involvement. I place it on the desk, halfway between the two of us. ‘Are you referring to this?’
‘Yes. That’s the one.’
I sit back in my chair and look him straight in the eyes. ‘I’m sorry, son. But as you just said, there are some things money can’t buy.’
He smiles, unexpectedly. ‘But I don’t intend to offer you money.’
‘Really? What would you like to pay me with?’
He puts his hand in his pocket and takes out a small grey plastic object. He shows it to me and I see it’s a digital tape recorder. ‘With this.’
Experience has taught me to remain impassive. Even now I manage to do so. Problem is, he knows all about this ability of mine.
‘What’s that, if you don’t mind my asking?’
I’ve asked the question in order to gain time, but if I haven’t gone weak in the head all of a sudden, I know perfectly well what it is and what it’s been used for.
He confirms it. ‘It’s a recorder containing the phone calls you made to the general. This tiny thing in return for that contract.’
‘You’d never have the guts to use it against me.’
‘Wouldn’t I? Try me. I can see it already.’ He moves his hand in front of him, in a gesture indicating a banner headline. ‘A true story of corruption.’
I love chess. One of its rules is that when you’re beaten you give credit to your opponent. Mentally I take the king and lay it down on the board. Then I take the contract from the desk. With a theatrical gesture, I tear it into tiny pieces and drop it in the wastepaper basket.
‘It’s done. Your commitment is cancelled.’
Russell stands up and puts the tape recorder down in front of me. ‘I knew we’d come to an agreement.’
‘That was blackmail.’
He looks at me with an amused expression. ‘Of course it was.’
Russell checks the time. I see he’s wearing a cheap Swatch. He must have sold the gold watch I gave him.
‘I have to go. Larry King’s waiting to interview me.’
Knowing him, it might be a joke. But given his sudden fame I wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.
‘Bye, Dad.’
‘Goodbye. I can’t say it was a pleasure.’
He walks to the door. His steps are noiseless on the carpet. So is the door when he opens it. I stop him as he’s about to go out.
‘Russell…’
He turns his face to me, that face everyone says is the image of mine.
‘Yes?’
‘One of these days, if you’d like to, you could come to lunch at the house. I think your mother would be very pleased to see you.’
He looks at me with eyes I’ll have to become familiar with in future. He takes a moment to reply. ‘I’d like that. I’d like it very much.’
Then he leaves the room.
I sit there for a moment, thinking. In my life I’ve always been a businessman. Today I think I made a good deal. Then I reach out my hand to the recorder and press the button, ready to listen to the recording.
It hits me immediately. I always thought my son was a lousy poker player. But maybe he’s one of those people who have the ability to learn from their mistakes.
The tape is blank.
There’s not a damned thing on it.
I get up and go to the window. Below me is New York, one of the many cities I’ve conquered in my life. Today it seems to me a little more precious. An amusing thought crosses my mind.
My son, Russell Wade, is a great journalist and a great son of a bitch.
I think he got that second aspect of his character from me.
