Ghosts of Manhattan: A Novel(51)

“It’s not fantastic.”

“We had our best year ever. We’re going to keep it going.”

“You mean your best bonus year ever.” Freddie is like the angry geek who somehow finds the nerve for a moment to stand up to the captain of the football team.

Dale tries to keep his smile, but this time it’s dismissive. “I said we’re going to keep it going.”

“That will risk the firm. Maybe more than that.”

“Don’t be dramatic. You’re here to help us make more money. Not less.”

“I’m here to help us manage risk in the optimal way. Not set us on a suicide course with the market.”

“Listen to me. We’re making money. We’re going to continue making money. We’ll alter course when this cools off.”

“You have to alter course now. Now. We can’t unwind these positions overnight. We have to gently unwind starting now and do it over a period of a year, maybe two, and hope the market doesn’t turn before we’re finished. We have to do it slowly, and even that comes with risk.”

“Risk from where?”

“People are going to start to wake up to how exposed the major banks are. Then they’re going to start to make bets on the correction. The bets on the downfall will accelerate the downfall. That will push assets in the same direction as our unwinding needs to go and make it more difficult to complete. It will become self-fulfilling. We may not be able to get all the way out, even if we start today.”

“Then why try to get out at all? Let’s keep our high earnings. We’ll increase our bets and fight off the correction.”

“Because you will lose the whole company. Everything. The underlying bet isn’t there.”

Dale knows Freddie is brilliant and he also knows that he himself is incapable of grasping the analysis in Freddie’s report. The root of his disdain for Freddie is fear. Dale’s belief system about success is that men get ahead on guts, vision, and persuasion. Freddie doesn’t lead; he’s someone you pay a salary to play a supporting role. If Freddie challenges this belief, Dale will defend himself the way insecure people in authority do.

Dale bangs his pen down and looks at Preston. He gives another friendly smile to Preston, then to me, inviting people to agree with him and condemn Freddie. If his smile could speak, it would say, Can you believe this guy?

“I’ve got to make money with a bunch of little girls around me like this Cook. No balls and weak stomachs.”

Freddie holds his ground. He sits up a little straighter. I can tell it’s his last shred of courage before he runs home hyperventilating and locks himself in a room with pizza, soda, and computer games. “This is my official report and I’m submitting it for internal publication today.”

“Get out.”

“Then there’s still the issue of the three-strike loans.”

“Shut your mouth right now, Cook, and get the hell out.”

Freddie is up and gone like a swimmer off his block at the sound of a gun. I wait a full three count before getting up, just to make clear that I don’t work for Freddie and any anger or command to get out isn’t meant directly for me.

When I reach the exit, I look back over my shoulder as I close the door behind me, and I see Dale staring down at his pen lying halfway across the table from him. He looks scared.

Freddie is standing on the far end of the waiting room, wanting to leave altogether but waiting for me. He looks like he isn’t yet sure whether or not he should cry.

“Let’s go,” I say. We walk down the hall in silence until we get into the elevator on the way out of the building. I wonder if there’s another Freddie at another firm blowing whistles about the high leverage of bad assets. Nobody wants to talk about this.

“Oh my God, Nick. He’s pissed.”

“Yes.”

“What am I going to do? I think I need to find a new job.”

“You did your job, Freddie. And you stood up to him. You should be proud of that.” I feel I should be fully honest with him. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to polish up your resume.” I think I may do the same.

“You think they’d fire me for telling the truth?”

“Like you said, he’s pissed off.”

“I was trapped, Nick,” he says, looking dejected. “What else could I report? Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

“That’s not true, Freddie. You did the right thing. That took a lot of courage.” I mean that. It’s always easier to see it clearly when it’s someone else.

“I need to go outside and take a walk.”

“Okay. I’m heading back to my desk.”

The elevator stops on seven and I step out and turn back around to Freddie. I hold the elevator door open.

“Freddie, you did fine. Screw him.” He nods and I pull my hand away and let the doors close over him like water over something sinking beneath the surface.

I get a coffee, wishing it could be gin and tonic, and start to my desk. Ron is walking around the area looking excited and sees me coming.

“Jack’s coming by.”

“Wilson?”

“Yeah, he should be here in a few minutes.”

“Why’s he coming here?”

“I think there’s a Knicks game or a Duke game and he’s taking some people.”