Free To Trade

'What's DGB's credit like?' I asked. If DGB was a strong credit, then the risk on our Gypsum bonds would be much less. The bond price would soar.

'Double A minus,' said David. He was like a computer when it came to the details of even the most obscure companies. 'Hold on, my trader is shouting something.' I could hear a fair amount of noise in the background. 'He says DGB is paying for the acquisition with cash and a share placing. That shouldn't harm the credit.'

'Where are the bonds trading?' I asked.

'Hang on.' He was back a moment later. 'He's bidding 95. Do you want to sell your two million?'

I thought for a moment. Ninety-five was too low. 'No thanks. They should be higher than that. Let me know if they move up.'

I put the phone down and shouted across to Debbie. 'What are you hearing?'

'Everyone is looking for these Gypsums. Bloomfield Weiss are bidding 97. I have got Claire on the line here. She is bidding 97?.

Shall I sell?'

I tapped the buttons of my calculator. By my reckoning we should be able to get 98?. 'No hold on.'

'Let's just take the profit,' said Debbie.

'No, these things are worth three-quarters of a point more.'

'You are so greedy,' she said.

We spoke to three more salesmen, but none was bidding more than 97?. I was close to giving up when Karen shouted, 'Debbie, Leipziger Bank on four!'

'Who the hell are Leipziger Bank?' said Debbie. 'Tell them to go away, we're busy.'

Leipziger Bank? Now why would an obscure German bank want to talk to us, I wondered. 'I'll talk to them, Karen,' I shouted.

'Good-morning. This is Gunter here. How is it with you? It is a fine day here.'

'Good-morning,' I said. Come on, Gunter, get to the point.

After a little more polite conversation Gunter asked me if I had heard of an issue for the Gypsum Company of America.

'As a matter of fact, I happen to own two and a half million dollars of that issue.'

'Ah good. My trader is bidding 95. This is a very good bid, I believe.'

An appalling bid – at least two points below the market! 'Listen very closely, Gunter,' I said. 'My colleague is on the other line and is just about to sell these bonds to an old friend of ours at 99. If you bid 99? right now, then I will sell them to you. Otherwise you will never see these bonds again.'

'Can I have an hour to work on that?' asked Gunter, shaken.

'You can have fifteen seconds to work on it.'

Silence. I looked at my watch. After thirteen seconds, Gunter was back on the line. 'OK, OK we will buy two and a half million Gypsum of America 9 per cents of 1995 at 99?.''

'Done,' I said.

'Thank you,' said Gunter. 'I look forward to doing a lot more business with you in the future.'

Fat chance, I thought, as I put down the phone.

'How on earth did you get him to pay 99?? asked Debbie.

'The only reason I could think that an outfit like Leipziger Bank should be buying these bonds is if they are DGB's local bank. If DGB are desperate to buy the Gypsum bonds, then they can afford to pay up for them. Can you believe that guy only bid 95 when he was prepared to pay 99?? Remind me not to deal with them again.'

'So how much are we up?' asked Debbie.

'We bought those two million at 82 and sold them for a 17i point profit,' I said. 'That's three hundred and fifty thousand dollars we've made! Not bad. And we got rid of our original half-million position. I wonder where our shares will be when New York comes in?'

Debbie looked thoughtful.

'What's up?' I said.

'Someone must have known about the takeover,' she said.

'Of course they did,' I said. 'They always do. That's the way the world works.'

'Maybe we shouldn't have bought those shares,' she said.

'Why shouldn't we? We had no knowledge there was going to be a takeover. We just guessed. We haven't broken any rules.'

'Somebody knew. Why else would the stock shoot up?'

'Look,' I said, 'You are the compliance officer. You know the rules. Have we broken any of them?'

Debbie thought a little. 'Technically, I suppose not,' she said.

'Good. Now pass me some tickets so I can log this trade.'

The next day, Wednesday, was an infuriating one. I was supposed to produce a report for one of our clients, and I was having severe trouble reconciling the performance figures produced by administration with what I knew we had achieved. I spent two hours in the afternoon staring at the same columns of numbers before I spotted the mistake, which had been staring back at me the whole time. Cursing myself for my stupidity, I went through to administration to point out the error. There was still many hours' work involved to straighten it out, and what with constant interruptions from salesmen, I would be lucky to get out before midnight. Debbie offered to help me, and I accepted with relief. Even so, it was not until eight o'clock that we finished. I put the report on Karen's desk, ready to be sent out first thing the next morning. Debbie and I looked at each other. 'Drink?' she said.

'Somehow I thought you would suggest that,' I said. 'Where shall we go?'

'Have you ever been on that boat on the Thames? You know, the one by Temple tube station?'

'That's fine with me,' I said. 'Just let me get my briefcase.'

'Oh, sod your briefcase!' said Debbie. 'All you are going to do is take it home and bring it back to work unopened, aren't you?'

'Um, well…'

'Come on!'

I looked round the trading room. Rob and Hamilton were still there, Hamilton going through piles of papers, Rob fiddling with his computer. It was no surprise at all to see Hamilton at this time of night, but Rob was a rarer sighting after six o'clock. It was dusk, and the red evening sunlight shot into the trading room, driving a broad band of orange between city and sky, both looming shapes of grey and black.

'It's going to rain…' I said.

'Oh, do come on.'

We got to the boat just before it started to rain. We sat at a table in the main cabin, looking out at the grey Thames rushing up towards Westminster on the floodtide. Powerful eddies whirled around the poles driven into the river-bed just next to the boat. It was strange to see such a wild, untamed force in the middle of a late-twentieth- century city. Man might be able to build river walls and elaborate barriers to contain or channel the flow, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Just then it started to rain, lashing down on to the water, so that river, city and sky became blurred in the gathering darkness. The wind had got up and the boat began to rock back and forth gently, creaking as it did so.

'Brrr,' Debbie shivered. 'You would hardly think it was summer. Mind you, it's quite cosy in here.'

I looked round. The varnished wooden interior of the boat was softly lit. There were a few small groups of people at the tables running up both sides of the cabin, and a larger group of drinkers at one end. The swaying and creaking of the boat, the murmur of relaxed conversation, and the damp but warm atmosphere did make it snug.

We ordered a bottle of Sancerre. The waiter returned with it right away and poured us both a glass. I raised mine to Debbie. 'Cheers,' I said. 'Thank you for your help this evening. I would still be there now if you hadn't done your bit.'

'Not at all,' Debbie said, taking a sip of her wine. 'You see, I'm not quite the lazy slob I'm cracked up to be.'