Cet watched in cold satisfaction as the value of the investment trusts it had selected fell by over half. It had selected five of the newest investment trusts, launched during September at a premium price. Overvalued at launch, they had no reputation or established trading history, and their stock books were mainly made up of other trusts. If the market fell, they were vulnerable.
Repurchase of one position would proceed tomorrow to provide the funds for Porter & Mason’s Federal Reserve debt. The identified fund had already fallen fifty percent, for a total return of nine hundred thousand. Repayment of four hundred thousand to Porter & Mason would leave four million dollars still open as short positions, and five hundred thousand available in unallocated cash. Basic analysis indicated the cycle was constricting credit significantly, leading to a continued fall in value. Predictions indicated eighty percent profit would be obtained from the remaining positions. There was a ninety percent probability that one or more would cease trading, providing the maximum gain.
~
George booked the small hotel room, and huddled inside. He was starving after the day, but it was not the kind of hotel that offered room service, which meant it was not the sort of place people would look for him. He did not dare go back to the brokerage after what he had just done, and if he went home they would find him there. Taking a chance, hat pulled down to hide his face, he ventured warily out to the grocers to get something to eat. Paying, he hurried back towards his room, keeping his head down.
There was a tap on his shoulder, and he looked round automatically – straight at the scowling face of the brokerage owner and chairman. George braced himself for an unpleasant scene. The man kept his voice low. Neither of them wanted a public mess; the house had a reputation to maintain after all.
“You’re damn lucky I was the one that found you. What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“Acting in the best interests of my clients. You saw what the market’s done this week,” George replied, keeping a professional face on it.
“George, I can understand stress getting to you but how the hell was that in anyone’s best interests?” George looked at him, weighing options, and decided to go with the truth. It was a gamble, but if he was afraid to take a chance he would not be a trader. He glanced round to make sure they were not overheard.
“Gus, I have this little bird, and she’s never wrong. Three days ago she took every penny she could beg, borrow, or steal, and shorted everything.” The owner’s expression was changing to disbelief and George hurried on. “She didn’t even give me company names, she shorted whole industries. What does that tell you about the market?”
“But you just–”
“I spoke to her this morning, about opening more shorts. She said it was too late.”
“And you took her word for it?”
“And I was clear before the last hour. The sales calls are still coming in, aren’t they? The overseas customers are lodging sell orders for tomorrow morning.” Gus sat silently for a moment before he answered.
“Yes.” The word hung in the air, and George knew that his gamble had paid off. Now he had to secure his advantage.
“You’ve seen what the market’s done this week. You’ve seen Saturday’s figures, and Monday’s and today’s closing prices. If I’m right, I’ve done the only thing I could.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Gus, how often am I wrong? Let those positions stay overnight. If the market recovers, I’ll make the difference up myself tomorrow on the floor.”
“That’s the only reason you aren’t in handcuffs right now.” Gus said, and George knew he was not joking. It would take them too long to find another trader as good as he was to undo it all.
“Can you wait until the end of the month?”
“You’ve got until tomorrow.”
~
Susan glanced out of her office window, watching the workers leaving Killgrace and trailing home. The second shift were just arriving for work at Williams.
She closed up her office and went to the ticker room. Turning on the wireless, she sat down, listening to the news as the ticker paper streamed through her hands. The ticker was still running, though the exchange must have closed. The trading had seemed so stable today. It was not until the last hour’s trades ran through that she knew she had got it right.
As the ticker finally chattered to a stop, Susan looked out of the window at the darkened streets. Henry would have left at five, and the factory machinery below was silent and unmanned. The wireless cut to news, announcing the worst day in stocks for months. It was beginning.
That night, she slept in the office.
~ End Entry ~
(Closing Index: 305.85)
