Kane & Abel (1979) (49 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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BOOK: Kane & Abel (1979)
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While Kate and the baby, which was due at Christmas, brought William great happiness at home, Matthew was making him increasingly uneasy at work.

He had taken to drinking with companions William did not know, and coming to the office late without explanation. As the months passed, William found he could no longer rely on his friend’s judgement. At first he said nothing, hoping it was no more than a reaction to the repeal of Prohibition. But it soon became clear that it wasn’t, as the problem went from bad to worse.

The final straw came when Matthew arrived at the office two hours late one morning, obviously suffering from a hangover. He then made a simple, avoidable mistake, selling off an important investment which resulted in a small loss for a client who had been hoping to make a handsome profit. William knew the time had finally come for an unpleasant, but necessary, head-on confrontation.

When William had finished his pep talk, Matthew admitted his error and apologized profusely. William was thankful to have the row out of the way, and was about to suggest they go to lunch together when his secretary rushed into his office.

‘It’s your wife, sir, she’s been taken to the hospital.’

‘Why? What’s wrong?’ asked William.

‘I think it’s the baby,’ said his secretary.

‘But it’s not due for at least another six weeks,’ said William.

‘I know, sir, but Dr MacKenzie sounded anxious, and wanted you to come to the hospital as quickly as possible.’

Matthew, who a moment before had seemed a broken reed, immediately took over and drove William to the hospital. Memories of William’s mother’s death and her stillborn daughter came flooding back to them both as Matthew drew into the hospital parking lot.

William did not need to be guided to the Richard Kane maternity wing, which Kate had officially opened only a few months before. He found a nurse standing outside the delivery room; she informed him that Dr MacKenzie was with his wife, and that she had lost a lot of blood. William paced up and down the corridor helplessly, numbly waiting, exactly as he had done years before. How unimportant being chairman of the bank now seemed, compared with the thought of losing Kate. When had he last said to her, ‘I love you’?

Matthew sat with William, paced with William, stood with William, but said nothing. There was nothing to be said. Occasionally a nurse ran in or out of the delivery room. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. Finally, Dr MacKenzie appeared, a surgical mask covering his nose and mouth, his forehead shining with little beads of sweat. William could not see the expression on the doctor’s face until he removed the white mask, to reveal a huge smile.

‘Congratulations, William. You have a son, and Kate is just fine.’

‘Thank God,’ breathed William, clinging onto Matthew.

‘Much as I respect the power of the Almighty,’ said Dr MacKenzie, ‘I feel I had a little to do with this particular birth myself.’

William laughed. ‘Can I see Kate?’

‘No, not right now. I’ve given her a sedative, and she’s sleeping. She lost rather more blood than was good for her, but she’ll be fine after a night’s rest. A little weak, perhaps, but ready to see you first thing in the morning. But there’s nothing to stop you seeing your son. Don’t be surprised by his size; remember, he’s quite premature.’

Dr MacKenzie guided William and Matthew down the corridor to a room in which they peered through a pane of glass at a row of six little pink heads in cribs.

‘That one,’ said Dr MacKenzie, pointing to the infant on the end.

William stared at the wrinkled little face, his vision of a fine, upstanding son destined to be the next chairman of the bank rapidly receding.

‘Well, I’ll say one thing for the little devil,’ said Dr MacKenzie cheerfully. ‘He’s better-looking than you were at that age.’

William laughed with relief.

‘What are you going to call him?’

‘Richard Higginson Kane.’

The doctor patted him affectionately on the shoulder. ‘I hope I live long enough to deliver Richard’s firstborn.’

That same afternoon William wired the rector of St Paul’s, who registered the boy for a place in September 1945. Having planted the first step in Richard’s career the new father and Matthew got thoroughly drunk, overslept and were late arriving at the hospital the next morning to see Kate. William took Matthew for another look at young Richard.

‘Ugly little brute,’ said Matthew. ‘Not at all like his beautiful mother.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said William.

‘Spitting image of you, though.’

William returned to Kate’s flower-filled room.

‘Do you like your son?’ Kate asked her husband. ‘He’s so like you.’

‘I’ll hit the next person who says that,’ William said with a grin. ‘He’s the ugliest little brute I’ve ever seen.’

‘Oh, no!’ said Kate in mock indignation. ‘He’s beautiful!’

‘A face only a mother could love,’ said William, as he hugged her.

She clung to him, and said, What would Grandmother Kane have said about our firstborn entering the world after less than eight months of marriage?’

‘I don’t want to seem uncharitable,’ said William, mimicking his grandmother, ‘but anyone born after less than fifteen months must be considered of dubious parentage. Less than nine months is definitely unacceptable in society, and they should be packed off abroad … By the way, I forgot to tell you something before they rushed you into the hospital.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I love you.’

Kate and young Richard had to stay in hospital for nearly three weeks, and it wasn’t until just before Christmas that she was fully recovered. William became the first male Kane to change a nappy and push a perambulator. He told Matthew it was high time he found himself a good woman and settled down.

Matthew laughed defensively. ‘You’re getting positively middle-aged. I’ll be looking for grey hairs next.’

One or two had already appeared during the chairmanship battle but Matthew hadn’t commented.

William was not able to put a finger on exactly when his relationship with Tony Simmons began to deteriorate. Simmons started to veto his policy suggestions, and his negative attitude to any proposals he made caused William to seriously consider resigning as a member of the board.

Matthew was not helping matters by returning to his former habits. The period of reform had not lasted more than a few weeks, and if anything he was now drinking more heavily than before, and arriving at the bank later each morning. William wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, and found himself continually covering for his friend. At the end of each day he would double-check Matthew’s mail, and return any unanswered telephone calls.

By the summer of 1934, with President Roosevelt’s New Deal being implemented, investors began to regain some confidence and took their money from under their beds and began to deposit it in banks. Some literally appeared carrying suitcases full of cash. William felt that perhaps the time had come to step tentatively back into the stock market and even began to expand his own portfolio, but Simmons vetoed the suggestion that the bank should follow his lead in an offhand memorandum to the Financial Committee. William stormed into Simmons’s office without knocking, and asked if he wanted his resignation.

‘Certainly not, William. As you know, it has always been my policy to run this bank in a conservative manner. I am not willing to charge headlong back into the market and risk our investors’ money.’

‘But we’re losing business hand over fist to other banks while we sit on the sidelines. Banks we wouldn’t even have considered as rivals a few years ago will soon be overtaking us.’

‘Overtaking us in what, William? Not in reputation. Quick profits perhaps, but not reputation.’

‘But we have to be interested in profits as well,’ said William. ‘It’s a bank’s duty to make good returns for its investors, not to mark time in a gentlemanly fashion.’

‘I would rather stand still than lose the reputation this bank built up under your grandfather and father over the better part of half a century.’

‘Yes, but both of them were always open to new ideas to expand the bank’s activities.’

‘In good times,’ said Simmons.

‘And in bad.’

‘Why are you so upset, William? You still have a free hand in the running of your own department.’

‘Like hell I do. You block anything that even suggests enterprise.’

‘Let’s start being honest with each other, William. One of the reasons I have had to be particularly cautious lately is that Matthew’s judgement is no longer reliable.’

‘Leave Matthew out of this. It’s me you’re blocking.
I
am head of the department.’

‘I can’t leave Matthew out of it. I only wish I could. The overall responsibility to the board for anyone’s actions is mine, and he is the number two in our most important department.’

‘Therefore he’s my responsibility, because I’m the number one in that department.’

‘No, William, it cannot remain your responsibility alone that Matthew comes into the office drunk at eleven o’clock in the morning - no matter how long and close your friendship has been.’

‘Don’t exaggerate.’

‘I’m not exaggerating, William. For over a year now this bank has been carrying Matthew, and the only thing that’s stopped me from mentioning it to you before is your close personal relationship with him and his family. I wouldn’t be sorry to see him hand in his resignation. A bigger man would have done so long ago, and a close friend would have told him so.’

‘Never,’ said William. ‘If he goes, I go.’

‘So be it, William. My first responsibility is to our investors, not to your old school chums.’

‘You’ll live to regret that, Tony,’ said William. He stormed out of the chairman’s office and returned to his own room in a furious temper.

‘Where is Mr Lester?’ he demanded as he passed his secretary.

‘He’s not in yet, sir.’

William looked at his watch, exasperated. ‘Tell him I’d like a word the moment he arrives.’

‘Yes, sir.’

William paced up and down his office, cursing. Everything Simmons had said about Matthew was true, which only made matters worse. He began to think back to when Matthew’s drinking bouts had begun, searching for an explanation. His thoughts were interrupted by his secretary.

‘Mr Lester has just arrived, sir.’

Matthew entered the room looking rather sheepish, displaying all the signs of another hangover. He had aged badly in the past year, and his skin had lost its fine, athletic glow. William hardly recognized him as the man who had been his closest friend for nearly twenty years.

‘Matthew, where the hell have you been?’

‘I overslept,’ Matthew replied off-handedly, scratching at his face. ‘Rather a late night, I’m afraid.’

‘You mean you drank too much.’

‘No, I didn’t have that much. It was a new girlfriend who kept me awake all night. She was insatiable.’

‘When will you stop, Matthew? You’ve slept with nearly every single woman in Boston.’

‘Don’t exaggerate, William. There must be one or two left - at least I hope so. And don’t forget all the thousands of married ones.’

‘It’s not funny, Matthew.’

‘Oh, come on, William. Give me a break.’

‘Give you a break? I’ve just had Simmons on my back complaining about you, and what’s more, he’s right. Your judgement has gone to pieces. You’ll sleep with anything wearing a skirt, and worse, you’re drinking yourself to death. Why, Matthew? Tell me why. There must be some explanation. Up until a year ago you were one of the most reliable men I’d ever met in my life. What is it, Matthew? What am I supposed to tell Simmons?’

‘Tell him to go to hell and mind his own business.’

William was unable to hide his anger. ‘Matthew, be fair, it
is
his business. We’re running a bank, not a bordello, and you came here as a director on my personal recommendation.’

‘And now I’m not measuring up to your high standards, is that what you’re saying?’

‘No, I’m not saying that.’

‘Then what the hell are you saying?’

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