He relaxed. 'You know George. He would want to tell our investors immediately. We wouldn't be able to talk him out of it. And once he does that, the reputation of our firm will be significantly harmed. It may never recover. We would certainly never see the money from Fuji Life. And as for the police, that would be even worse.'
Hamilton could see I wasn't quite convinced. 'Look, you and I have a terrific opportunity to really make something of this firm. Can I rely on you to help? If we can get the money back in the next two or three months, then it will be a lot better for the firm and for George De Jong. If we have got nowhere by Christmas, then we will tell him. You've done your duty by telling me about it. You're safe. This mess is my responsibility and I am going to clear it up.'
I thought about it for a moment. Five hundred million dollars from Fuji Life would bring who knows how much money with it from Japan. We would do some serious trading with funds like that behind us. We would move markets, people would have to sit up and take notice of us. And there was no doubt that I would be part of it all; Hamilton had referred to the two of us as a team. I liked that. We had everything to play for. I knew Hamilton was right about George De Jong; he would want to go straight to our investors and spoil it all.
Well, Hamilton had asked for my help and he would get it. 'OK. You are right. Let's find that money.'
I walked back to my desk, excited and a little bewildered. It would be fun working with Hamilton to recover the money. But how on earth would we do it? I had no idea how I would get the information Hamilton had asked for. All I could do was try my best and see what I turned up. Whatever happened, I didn't want to let him down.
On my desk I found a note that Claire had called. I rang her.
'BLG.''
'Hallo. It's me, Paul.'
'Ah, good morning. I am glad to see you made it into work. I have some prices for you.' At the best of times Claire's voice sounded sensual. When I heard it that morning, it brought back the previous night's activities.
'I enjoyed last night,' I said.
'So did I. It was fun.'
'We must do it again sometime.'
There was silence on the other end of the line.
'You know, Paul, I don't think we should.' I had been half expecting this. 'What I said about it being unprofessional for a salesperson to have a relationship with her clients is true. We had a great night. No harm was done. We had better leave it there.'
I was disappointed. There is no pretending I was not disappointed. If she thought professionalism was so important, what had she been up to last night? But… she was right. No harm had been done. And for the first time in a long while I had had a really good time. I should just chalk it up to experience.
'Now, about those prices…'
The Gloucester Arms was as crowded and smoky as usual. In one corner four or five New Zealanders were chatting up a similar number of giggling Italian students. A group of large men propped up the bar, their beer- developed stomachs peeking out underneath too small T-shirts. A mildly eccentric old man muttered to himself as he puffed at his pipe and perused the
The Gloucester Arms was by no means the most attractive pub in London. But it was my local. I probably spent more time in there than I should, unwinding from the day's tensions, reliving good trades and forgetting bad ones. As I sat in the corner watching the laughing, gesturing crowd of people, and slowly sipping a pint of Yorkshire bitter, the cauldron of competing anxieties that had been bubbling in my head cooled down to a gentle simmer. Debbie, Joe, Piper and Tremont were still all there in the background, but I could worry about them properly tomorrow.
I looked up and saw Rob's chubby face over the other side of the room. He caught my eye and pushed through the drinkers towards me. Every now and then we would have a beer in the Gloucester Arms. He lived quite close, so the pub was convenient for both of us.
'Hi. Can I get you another?' he asked. I nodded my assent, and he was soon back with two pints of Yorkshire.
He took a deep swallow of his, closed his eyes and loosened his shoulders. 'I needed that,' he sighed.
'Bad day?'
'You could say that,' Rob said. He shook his head. 'It's my own fault. I bought a load of Bunds yesterday, because I thought today's money supply figures would be lower than expected.'
'So what's the problem?' I asked. 'You were right, weren't you?'
'Yeah. The market went up a point. But instead of taking my profit, I bought more.'
'Why?'
'I don't know, it just felt right. Then that bastard Poehl says that the Bundesbank is still worried about inflation despite the good money supply figures, and the market came off a point and a half.'
'Oh dear,' I said, as neutrally as possible.
'That's right,' said Rob. 'Oh dear. I don't know why I didn't sell right after the figures came out.'
Rob stared gloomily into his pint. I didn't know why he hadn't sold either. But then I didn't understand why he had put on the position in the first place. He had no carefully worked out reason for thinking the money supply figures would be low. It was just 'gut feel'. That was certainly not the way Hamilton would have played the situation, but then more traders were like Rob than like Hamilton.
Rob looked up from his beer. 'That was quite some trade Hamilton did yesterday, wasn't it?' he said. 'I couldn't work it out. Neither could Jeff. In fact I think it upsets him a bit.' Rob reported to Jeff Richards.
'What does?' I asked.
'Hamilton calling the market right all the time.'
'Well, Jeff does all right himself, doesn't he?' I said.
'Yes, he does, on the whole,' Rob said. 'But he can spend days poring over economic research and statistics before deciding which way the market will go. He then has to wait weeks sometimes for the market to catch up with him. I think seeing Hamilton call the market just right, against all that fundamental analysis, irks him. How does he do it?'
'He thinks of everything,' I said. 'He leaves as little to chance as possible, and when the odds are heavily stacked in his favour, he makes his move. You can learn a lot from him.'
'I can see that,' said Rob. 'Bit of a cold bastard, though, isn't he?'
'Yes, I suppose so,' I said. 'But he is fair. I like working for him. Seeing him in action, like he was yesterday, is quite incredible.'
He was a great man to learn from, I thought. One day, if I watched and listened closely, I would be just as good as Hamilton. Secretly, I thought I could be better. That was my ambition. And I was determined enough to make sure I achieved it.
Rob nodded his head in agreement and sipped his pint. 'Aren't you going on a boondoggle soon?' he asked.
'Boondoggle? I am about to embark on a gruelling business trip, if that's what you mean.' I smiled at him.
'To Arizona?'
'Yes, to Arizona. Although I am going to spend a few days in New York beforehand, to catch up with what is happening on Wall Street. And then of course I will have to spend a day in Las Vegas to check out the Tahiti.'
'If that isn't a boondoggle, I don't know what is,' said Rob. 'Mind you, I have an exciting trip ahead of me myself.'
'Oh yes? I didn't know Jeff approved of the expense.'
'Well, he has made a special exception in this case. It's a two-day seminar on central bank approaches to controlling exchange rates. It's in Hounslow. Do you want to come? I hear Hounslow is very nice this time of year.'
'Very kind of you, but no thanks,' I said. 'Anyway, enough of work. How's your love life?'
Gloom instantly returned to Rob's face.
'Not so good?' I asked.
'Terrible,' Rob answered.
'You are still chasing Cathy Lasenby, I take it.'
Rob nodded miserably. 'I had this great idea,' he said. 'Cathy has been avoiding me, there is no escaping that.
