Chapter 25 — A New Client

_December 19, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

{psc} Late on Monday morning, I went to see Mr. Matheson.

"There's a good chance I'll need to start my time off this week," I said. "I can't predict when, but it's close."

"Just call me and let me know. Nobody will say a word."

"Thank you."

I returned to the Research Department, picked up the telephone handset, and dialed Hart-Lincoln. I asked for Nelson and was transferred to his assistant, who put me through right away.

"It's Jonathan. Do you have a few minutes?"

"Yes. What can I do for you?"

"Is there anything I need to do with regard to Keiko?"

"Before I answer, how close?"

"Nobody can say for sure, but I'd say a week to ten days. Her blood oxygen levels are barely OK, and that's with high-flow oxygen via mask."

"I know I've said it before, but I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

"Does Keiko have a will?"

"No."

"Because you're married, intestate estates automatically go to the surviving spouse. Does she have any assets of her own besides personal belongings?"

"Her car."

"It will be your property, so you'll need to take a copy of her death certificate to the Secretary of State's office and have the car retitled in your name. You should also take her driver's license with you and fill out the form to cancel it. For your joint bank account, you'll take the death certificate to the bank. More than likely, they'll create a new account in just your name with a new account number. You'll need to make sure Spurgeon knows the new number. I'll handle the paperwork for Yuusuke Holdings, but I'll need a copy of the death certificate before I can do that. You should also give one to Robert Black."

"There's no probate or anything like that?"

"Generally speaking, not for a spouse. Does she have any debt?"

"No. Her parents were paying for school, including room and board, and the car was paid off as of July."

"You'll also need to cancel any credit cards in her name. Did she work at all?"

"No."

"I'll send a letter to the Social Security Administration with a copy of the death certificate so that nobody can reuse her Social Security Number. I think that covers it, but obviously, things can come up. If they do, call, and we'll solve them."

"Thanks. I appreciate the help. One more thing — I'd like to draw up a will and various powers of attorney."

"Who?"

"I think, at this point, it has to be Bianca Pérez. Like Keiko, I don't want what Doctor Morrison called 'heroic measures'. I also want to be cremated and interred next to Keiko in her family's crypt at Montrose Cemetery."

"Beneficiaries?"

"A hundred grand to my mom, and the rest in a trust for my daughter. All my assets can be liquidated for cash. You'd be the trustee, and the money should be invested in the Spurgeon Select Fund."

"How do you want it dispersed?"

"I'm not up to speed on that part. What do you recommend?"

"Given your assets and the fact that Bianca works, $1000 a month to her for the benefit of your daughter. When your daughter…what's her name going to be?"

"Sofía."

"When Sofía turns eighteen, the payments would go to her. She could use the trust for tuition and other college expenses, and then at age twenty-five, the balance is paid to her, and the trust would terminate."

"That sounds good."

"Last question — executor and power of attorney?"

I thought for a moment.

"Make my Uncle Alec the executor, and Jack Clinton should have power of attorney."

"Only on incapacity or death, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll run it by someone in trusts and estates, then draw all of that up. You can sign everything after the first of the year."

"Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then sat quietly for about ten minutes thinking about Keiko.

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.

"Research, Kane."

"Jonathan, it's Joel Steinem. Your AUD sell executed in full at 0.901."

"Thanks."

I pulled up my spreadsheet, entered the trade, and saw that my overall gain on the AUD trades was just under $2.5 million. I logged onto the mainframe, ran a portfolio analysis, and was very happy with the result — a total return for the year of 39.2%, with only five full trading days remaining, plus two half days. There was little chance of a major market move, so my final number would be very close to that number. Of course, that total return was on dollars invested on the first day the fund was active, so the adjusted return was quite a bit lower, given significant capital had flowed in later in the year.

I checked the Nikkei closing, and the 225 had closed at ¥9484.17, up from ¥7291.47 when I'd purchased my first index options. If that trend continued, I'd be in very good shape for what was shaping up to be a rough year for the US economy, something that might actually cause Reagan to lose to the Democratic nominee, most likely former Vice President Walter Mondale.

In looking at the Nikkei futures, I decided to make additional changes in my portfolio, selling bonds and buying shares in a Nikkei 225 index fund rather than futures options, as the options were pricey and would mean forgoing a good percentage of the potential increase, as some of that was built into the options, which was the norm. I moved what would be the maximum for my fund, given the investment strategy documents.

It was late December, but I still had an opportunity to modify my strategy document for 1984, so I changed it to specify 'overweight' for stocks in the Nikkei 225, as well as for both index shares and index options. That would give me a much freer hand in the percentage of my fund that could be invested in Japanese securities.

When I was satisfied with the changes, I printed it out and hand-carried the printout to Kendall Roy in Compliance. He promised to review it immediately so that it could go out with the annual report in January. I thanked him, wished him 'Merry Christmas', and then returned to my desk. I spent some time reviewing the day's _Wall Street Journal_ via Dow Jones News, then had lunch with Bianca. After lunch, we went to the gym, then returned to the office.

The afternoon was fairly quiet, and at 3:00pm I left the office, but rather than going straight home, I walked to a coin dealer and bought five one-ounce silver coins which would be used during Keiko's funeral. I walked down the street to a jewelry store and bought a fairly heavy silver chain so I could eventually wear Keiko's wedding band. That accomplished, I headed home.

Keiko's blood oxygen levels were still hovering around 89%, but her urine production was down, which meant she was being given Lasix. That was one of the signs Doctor Morrison had pointed to — reduced urine output and was a portent of potentially rapid decline. Both Keiko and I knew it, and nothing specific was said between us. We cuddled both before and after dinner, and when Kelly arrived, she administered Versed. Once Keiko had fallen asleep, I went to sit with Jack in the great room.

"Where's Kristy?" I asked.

"Last-minute Christmas shopping with her little sister. How are you doing?"

"Hanging in there," I replied. "We haven't talked enough recently."

"You have to focus on Keiko," Jack said. "I totally get that."

"How are things in the mailroom?"

"All good. Did you hear that Al Frost quit?"

"Mark Benton's runner? No, I didn't."

"He gave notice today," Jask said. "I'm going to ask Mr. Benton for the job at Christmas dinner."

I nodded, "A smart move. I'll back you, obviously, but I can't imagine Mark turning down a request from his son-in-law!"

"Me, either, but you never know. Kristy is confident."

"The only way that wouldn't happen is if Noel Spurgeon said 'no', and I can't see that happening."

"Jack Nelson is going to be pissed because he'll have to replace me."

"O'Day?"

"He could do it, but Kasparov is better. You know the problem there. Other than Mandy Peterson, there are no women in supervisory positions. Heck, the one female trader quit four months ago because she couldn't stand the corporate culture."

"If you think Naomi is the best choice, tell Jack Nelson clearly and firmly why you think so. In the end, he'll have to decide, but every interaction I've had with Naomi has been positive, and she's not anything like Paige Jennings."

"I'll think about it and decide once I speak to Mark Benton. How did your currency trades work out?"

"Very well. I covered my calls at the bottom, then bought more, which I sold today. I cleared around $2.5 million. My rough estimate for the FX desk was about ten times that."

"Did you beat Matheson?"

"Yes, but it's not really a fair fight because he has to include all his currency trades made on behalf of clients, which don't have the margins of the speculative trades. Without those, he'd have beaten me. I might beat Noel Spurgeon, but it's a close thing."

"Pretty fucking amazing! You really do need to run your own shop so you can keep ALL the management fees and capital gains instead of sharing them with Spurgeon!"

"One step at a time," I replied. "As we discussed, I need to raise more capital, and that's been a struggle. I had some initial success with the law firms and the unions in Wisconsin and the trust manager, but so far, no other takers."

I heard the phone ring, and Juliette came into the great room.

"Jonathan," she said, "your mom is on the phone."

"Thanks."

I got up and went to the kitchen to take the call.

"Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"First, how is Keiko?"

"Sleeping most of the time. I'd say a week to ten days."

"I'm so sorry. Please let me know the arrangements when it's time."

"I will."

"Would you mind if I brought Mitchell to Chicago?"

"I'm going to assume that's your judge?"

"Yes. Mitchell Pierce. We'd stay at a hotel instead of with Violet so as not to impose on her."

"One room or two?" I asked mirthfully. "Or connecting rooms, to keep up appearances?"

"That's none of your business, Nosy Nate!" Mom said, laughing.

"I'll take that as either one room or connecting rooms," I chuckled. "He's more than welcome. We're having ham for dinner, so please tell me he's not Jewish."

"He was raised Presbyterian but doesn't go to church except occasionally."

"More than I needed to know, but that's probably a good thing. I did arrange things with Uncle Alec and Aunt Wendy for the 26th. It's unlikely Keiko will be able to participate."

"Have you been in touch with your grandparents?"

"No. I felt the ball was in Grandpa's court, and I wasn't going to press the issue. Keiko's going to have a Japanese funeral, which is Buddhist, so inviting your dad is a pointless exercise. He boycotted the wedding, and I doubt he even knows Keiko is ill. Well, it's possible Alec told him, but I don't know."

"How is Bev?"

"I haven't spoken to her in a few weeks, but last I did, she and Glen seem happy and Heather is healthy."

"And work?"

"Making money hand over fist, as the saying goes. Do you still plan to arrive on the 23rd?"

"Yes."

"That evening is the Spurgeon Christmas party, though I'm not sure I'll go, and if I do, I'll leave as soon as the meal is over and bonus checks are distributed. You're welcome at the house anytime on the 24th, and we'll start Christmas morning with breakfast at 8:00am. Are you going to call Violet?"

"Yes, as soon as we hang up. I'll see you on Saturday."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went back to the great room.

"My mom is bringing her boyfriend," I said.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Jack asked with a grin.

"He's a judge, so you tell me!" I replied.

"How did she meet him?"

I shrugged, "However people meet people. Maybe he has a kid in High School and she met him there. I know she wasn't in court for any reason. I'm actually happy for her."

"Back to our discussion about starting your own firm — what options do you have for raising capital?"

"Right now, it's cold calls or letters, plus word of mouth."

"Only Chicago?"

"And Wisconsin."

"Perhaps there's too much competition in Chicagoland. I can't imagine there are firms like Spurgeon in places like where you're from."

I laughed, "And no money, either! Well, OK, Indian Hill and a few other places around Cincinnati, sure, but not Goshen. I'll do something in January; I'm just not sure what."

"What about talking to athletes? There are plenty of guys on the Bears, Bulls, Hawks, Cubs, and Sox. I think the key is not contacting them directly."

"You've lost me," I said.

"You want to find their agents and attorneys. That's who'll be managing their money. I bet your lawyer friends might know, too."

"That's a very interesting idea," I replied. "Thanks. If you have other ideas, I want to hear them, please. If you do get the runner's position, are you going to move out?"

"Please don't take this personally, but a baby is really going to change things here."

"True. And you and Kristy are at least five years from that, given she's always said she intends to finish law school before she has kids. Bianca is due in April, so you have time to find a place."

"All four of your apartments are rented, right?"

"Yes, though obviously anyone could give notice at any time. You should speak with Kasia Pucinski. She manages several dozen properties, including mine."

"I'll do that after the holidays," Jack said.

"Cool. I think I'm going to turn in."

I said 'goodnight' and headed up to my room, got ready for bed. I read _Crain's_ and _The Economist_ for about an hour, then turned off the lights and fell asleep."

_December 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

"Research, Kane," I said when I answered my phone early on Tuesday afternoon.

"Mr. Kane, my name is Brandon Littleton. I was referred to you by Thomas Hart of Hart-Lincoln. I'm an attorney, and I represent a group of investors who have, collectively, $9 million to invest. Would you have some time to talk?"

"Absolutely. Would this be as individuals?"

"No. The funds are held in a trust, and I am the trustee."

"What financial products are owned by the trust?"

"All of the assets are in an S&P Index fund at T. Rowe Price. I understand you effectively doubled the S&P gains this year."

"Very close," I replied. "You do understand that past performance is no guarantee of future gains."

"Yes, of course," Mr. Littleton agreed. "What is your fee structure?"

"Standard 'two and twenty' with an 8% hurdle."

"What's the process?"

"I'll send you a prospectus, along with the application forms and the forms to transfer assets. Review the materials, and if you're happy, fill out the forms and return them, and we'll get started."

"I've read the prospectus — Hart-Lincoln provided me with a copy. I'd like to get this done quickly. Would you have time to meet later this afternoon?"

"What time did you have in mind?"

"I could be there at 3:30pm."

I hated the idea of staying late because of Keiko, but I didn't want to take any risks with the chance at another $9 million in capital to invest. That was especially true as it would come in as pure cash when the shares in the mutual fund were redeemed.

"I'll fax over the paperwork, and you can fill it out in advance."

"How long does the transfer take?"

"About ten business days from start to finish. Our Legal and Compliance teams need to perform their due diligence. You can save them time if you bring copies of the trust documents with you."

"I'll do that. My fax number is 312-555-7744. See you at 3:30pm."

He hung up without saying 'goodbye', something which was common amongst the licensed professionals at Spurgeon but which I felt was rude. I left the Research Department, went to the FX desk office, got the forms from the shelf, then returned to Research. I faxed the documents, then called Kendall Roy in Compliance.

"I'm not sure it'll be possible to get this done before January," he said once I explained what I needed. "Everyone but Clark in Compliance is out next week, and the entire legal team is out. I'm fairly certain most of the onboarding team is taking time off as well."

"I'll let Mr. Littleton know. If there is any way to expedite it, I'd appreciate it and consider it a personal favor."

That was internal code for being willing to compensate anyone who assisted with my request. It couldn't be cash, but I could certainly provide gift certificates, bottles of wine or liquor, or other gifts.

"Got something hot?" Mr. Roy asked.

"The Nikkei 225," I replied. "You should have my revised asset allocation guidelines in your inbox."

"I do. I haven't looked at it yet. What's the skinny?"

"Increasing the percentage of assets I can invest in Japanese securities, either individually or in a Nikkei Index Fund, either long or with futures options."

"I don't see any problems with that. I'll read it over, sign off, and you'll have it by Friday."

"Thanks. I'll bring the application, transfer authorization, and trust documents to you before I leave today."

"Sounds good."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then called home to let Deanna know I'd be late. I asked about Keiko, and Deanna said there hadn't been any change and that Ellie and some of the girls had visited. She said Keiko had fallen asleep right after they had left. When I finished the call, I spent about ninety minutes on research before my meeting with Brandon Littleton.

When he arrived, I was called up to Reception. He was my height, had sandy blonde hair, and was wearing a tailored suit that I was positive had come from Beth's grandfather's tailor shop.

"Jonathan Kane," I said, extending my hand.

"Brandon Littleton," he answered, shaking my hand firmly.

"I remember reading your name in relation to a wrongfully accused suspect in February of last year."

"You have an amazing memory," he observed.

"Normally, I wouldn't remember, but the young woman who was raped and murdered was a friend of mine. I'm glad they eventually got the right guy."

"As am I. I believe all the paperwork is in order."

He handed it to me, I scanned it, saw that it had been properly filled out, and both documents had been notarized.

"I'll take these to Compliance right now," I said. "They'll get started, but I'd expect the funds transfer to occur during the first week in January."

"Please do anything you can to expedite it."

"I've already asked them."

We shook hands again, and once he was in the elevator, I went to Compliance and handed the forms and trust documents directly to Kendall Roy.

"$9.37 mil?"

"Yes. Anything you can do to expedite it would be greatly appreciated. If you can find a way to get it done by December 30th, there's a dinner for two at any restaurant you can name with any bottle of wine you want to drink."

He laughed, "You're learning the game. Let me work."

"Thanks."

I left and returned to 29, stopping in to see Mr. Matheson before I left.

"I just signed up close to $10 million," I said.

"Union?"

"No. An investment trust. Compliance has all the paperwork."

"You're at about $110,000,000 AUM, right?"

"Yes."

"Once you go over $100 mil, it changes your compensation and bonus structure. Did Noel talk to you about that?"

"No."

"The short version is your salary is offset against your management fees, and your monthly draw is half a percent of your fund's annual management fee. Expenses are charged pro-rata, so even though it's just you, you'll cover a share consistent with your AUM. Any excess above your draw is paid quarterly, and any overdraft has to be repaid by January 15th of the following year. Your bonus is purely discretionary, and will reflect your fund's performance."

The 'capital contribution' was the portion of the management fee that was transferred to the Spurgeon Select Fund in Mr. Spurgeon's name. That would be a straight 25%. Knowing the expense ratios from the monthly reports, and doing a rough calculation indicated I would net somewhere around $220,000 in direct compensation in 1984, not counting any bonuses. If I made no gains or even lost money, I'd still have income ten times the average worker. Of course, if that happened, I wouldn't have a job!

My 'draw' was the portion of the management fee that would be automatically paid each month, charged against the fees collected on the first business day of January. I could take out more, if I wanted, or, simply wait for the quarterly payment. To me, waiting made perfect sense, as I'd draw about $10,000 per month.

The reason I wasn't paid the full amount was that expenses fluctuated month-to-month, and were heavily dependent on the types of trades executed by the firm, estimated quarterly tax payments, staffing changes, and every other bit of 'overhead' or 'expense', which had to be accounted for and drawn from the management fees.

"How does carried interest work in that case?" I asked.

"You retain twelve points of the 'twenty' in your name, with the remainder assigned to Noel Spurgeon, but left in your fund. I suspect Noel will speak to you after the 1st."

If my returns were anything like the previous year, that would mean I'd have carried interest of around $800,000 just for 1984. The numbers were mind-boggling. Barring some kind of major setback, I was well on my way to making tens of millions of dollars.

"OK. I'll wait to hear from him."

"Did you sign up for the Series 30 course?"

"It's in February. There's an exam date in May, for which I'll register once I complete the course. They want to see the course grade."

"Bring me the sponsorship form, and I'll sign it."

"I will. And thanks."

"Keep making money for us, Kane, and you'll be rich beyond your wildest dreams. Dismissed."

I left his office, went back to mine, put on my coat, grabbed my bag, and headed for the elevator. Just over thirty minutes later, I was home and sitting with Keiko. Jennifer had added Dilaudid to the IV on Doctor Morrison's instructions, which made Keiko lightheaded. It also didn't help her breathing. Unfortunately, there really were no good options to relieve her pain without affecting her breathing.

"I think we need to say 'goodbye'," Keiko said, her voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

I feared she was right because of the progression of symptoms Doctor Morrison had explained.

"I love you, Keiko-chan, and I want you to know that I treasure every minute of every day we've had together. I'll always love you and always remember you."

Keiko removed her oxygen mask and smiled.

"I love you very much, Jonathan, and I am so happy to be your wife. I just wish we had more time together. Kiss me, please."

We exchanged a soft French kiss, then Keiko put her mask back on. There really wasn't much I could do at this point except be with Keiko and provide comfort. There were still three days until I began my vacation, and I decided the best option was to work half-days the rest of the week. That would allow me to do the most important part of my job but also be home by noon to spend time with Keiko.

"I'm going to speak to Mr. Matheson in the morning and only work half-days the rest of the week," I said. "That will allow me to spend more time with you while getting the most important part of my work done."

"OK," Keiko replied. "Could you get me some of the electrolyte drink?"

I nodded and went to the kitchen, poured some from the bottle into a cup with a straw, and took it back to Keiko. Watching her, I felt helpless for the first time in my life.

_December 21, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

"I'd like to work half days for the next three days," I said to Mr. Matheson early on Wednesday morning. "I'm in by 6:00am, so I'd leave at 11:30am. That will allow me to complete my portion of the analyst report. Tony will take over next week."

"That's approved. Noel called me at home last night, and I let him know about the new client. He's pleased, obviously, and confirmed what I said about the change in compensation. He'll discuss it with you once he returns in January."

"He's not going to be at the party on Friday?"

"He is, but he'll fly in that afternoon and fly out after the party."

"I may miss it," I said. "Right now, it looks as if I'll be there, but things could change."

"Understood. Noel knows the score, so you'll be excused. I'll let Mrs. Peterson know to give your Christmas bonus envelope to Pérez, if that's OK."

"It is."

"Is she carrying your kid?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And your wife knows that?"

"She does. It was a unique situation."

Mr. Matheson nodded, "I know chemo can make you sterile."

That was true, but not the overriding reason. Of course, Mr. Matheson did not know Bianca was bisexual, and that was not something she wanted generally known outside our circle of friends. Revealing that would create all manner of problems for her at Spurgeon, where anti-gay feelings were strong. The truly crazy part was I was positive at least two of the traders were gay, and I was equally certain about Ken Parker, the commodities analyst on my team.

I didn't care, but almost everyone I'd previously referred to as 'Suits' would demand he be fired if it became known. The news stories about GRID — Gay-Related Immune Deficiency — or what I'd seen recently referred to as AIDS — Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome — would lead to claims that they could infect others. As I understood it, that could only happen via sex or sharing needles, and the drug of choice at Spurgeon was snorted cocaine, not injected heroin.

I was actually on the lookout for a treatment for AIDS, as whichever pharmaceutical company developed it would likely profit massively from it, given the disease was, in effect, a death sentence. Of course, so was Keiko's, but at least there were treatments which could cure it or send it into remission. So far, there was nothing like that for AIDS.

"And," I said, "bone marrow transplants are guaranteed to make you sterile because they use high doses of radiation to destroy your bone marrow before replacing it."

"The other thing Noel said was to let you know you've earned your full bonus potential for this year. It'll be paid on February 15th, with the usual 25% holdback added to your investment in the Spurgeon Select Fund."

"How does that work with contributions via payroll deduction?"

"You'll need to give Personnel a dollar amount before January 10th to be withheld from each paycheck. Mandy Peterson will explain it all once Noel notifies her in early January."

"Thanks."

"Noel will want to talk to you about your position; I know he'd strongly prefer you continue to run Research for at least another year, but with a Series 30 license, firm rules permit you to run your own trading desk."

"I'm happy with my current position," I said. "I enjoy research, and it isn't interfering with anything, except perhaps being able to raise more capital. But with over a hundred mil in AUM, I don't think that's a priority for me, such that I'd want the hassle of running a desk and having a P&L."

"Noel won't object, given there's a lower capital contribution if you run your own desk to compensate for paying the people who staff your trading desk."

"Speaking of staff, I'd like to hire a secretary for Research, though I'd prefer calling him or her an administrative assistant."

"Him?" Mr. Matheson asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't think you need ovaries to do administrative work! In fact, YOU don't think so, given your position on hiring for Support Services!"

Mr. Matheson laughed, "I hear you, but every single time we hire a woman for anything other than Personnel or as a secretary, it always goes to shit! Paige Jennings was just the most recent example."

I felt that the firm's culture had a lot to do with that, but I also felt it would be a bad thing to say. That said, I had an approach I could take.

"Naomi Kasparov seems to have worked out well in the mailroom, and I'm positive you agree that Pérez is doing an excellent job as a data analyst."

"One positive data point – Pérez —  and one anecdotal report — Kasparov — against a dozen problematic ones since Noel hired me, and the amount of money we make says we're doing the right thing."

"You're the boss," I said.

"Do you have someone in mind? And is it a woman?"

"Yes."

"It's up to you, and you can hire at your discretion, so long as Mandy Peterson signs off. Just remember, it's pure cost."

"I actually disagree," I replied. "While nobody in the Research Department generates direct profits, we all generate indirect profits. Setting aside my fund, the analysis we've done is what made you money on the Bolivar, the Zaïre, and the AUD, not to mention gold and silver plays. It's also the case for any staff without securities licenses — the opportunity cost of having to do it yourself rather than focusing on the markets and clients means they, too, create indirect profit."

"Did some idiot business professor who failed in the real world put that idea into your head?"

"No. It's simply something I observed here. May I give you an example?"

"Oh, sure, why not?"

"When you yell at Phil that you'll lose millions because the IBM terminals are down, that means that the fact they're working allows you to make those millions. Get rid of Phil, and who is going to keep the systems running? I know they're all classified as 'overhead' in the expenses that are charged to each fund, but we couldn't make the kind of money we do without them. Therefore, they contribute to the bottom line in a positive way, not a negative one."

"It's an interesting take, but in the end, the licensed guys make the money, including you."

"Then you'll have no problem if the entire Research Department decides to take the month of January off, right?"

"Get the fuck out of here!" Mr. Matheson ordered, but he had a grin on his face. "You are a real pain in the ass! Lucky for you, you're the best analyst we have!"

"Proving my point!" I declared with a grin as I backed out of the office.

"Jackass!" Mr. Matheson said, turning back to his quotation terminal.

I left the FX desk offices and went up to 30 to see Mandy Peterson and let her know I intended to fill the 'secretary' role, and asked about the title.

"Mr. Spurgeon will have to approve a different title, but I don't see a problem. It's equivalent to the girls who work for me being called 'Personnel Assistants' as opposed to secretaries. We'd put your new hire on the same salary schedule as the current secretaries. They start at $21,000 per year and are eligible for overtime at time-and-a-half."

That salary was right at the household median income, and close to what college graduates with engineering degrees would earn starting out, and significantly more than starting teacher's salaries. Violet was currently making $7.00 an hour, more than double the $3.35 minimum wage.

Of course, I was going to make something like fifty times the minimum wage, and that reminded me I needed to start contributing to charities. The first would be to the Leukemia Society of America in Keiko's name. I'd do that as soon as my bonus was paid in January.

"OK. I have someone in mind. What's the process?"

"You interview her, I interview her, and I check her references. Generally speaking, you have broad discretion to hire someone for that position, just as the other heads of desks have."

"OK. I'll get back to you on this in January."

"Let me know if you need anything with regard to your wife," Mrs. Peterson said.

"I just spoke to Mr. Matheson about my schedule. I'm working half days the rest of the week."

"OK. You're also entitled to two days of bereavement leave, which doesn't count against your days off. That's intended for a wake and funeral, but you have discretion to use them as you see fit. Will there be a service?"

"A Buddhist wake and funeral, which Keiko's grandfather is arranging."

"Get word to me, as Mr. Spurgeon will want to send flowers in addition to attending."

"I'll do that. Thanks."

I left her office and returned to 29. I decided to wait to talk to Violet until I saw her on Christmas Eve. I worked until 11:30am, then headed home to be with Keiko.

"You should go to the company party on Friday," Keiko said.

"I'll see how things are on Friday," I countered.

"I want you to go," she said. "Please promise me."

I didn't want to upset her, so I agreed, but I would decide at the last minute if I felt I could leave her for a few hours.

_December 22, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

On Thursday, Keiko's blood oxygen level had dropped to 87%, and her urine output had decreased, mainly due to not drinking enough. She was going to be sleeping more and eventually not wake up from a nap. That meant we were at a point where she'd need a feeding tube, and she'd expressly rejected the idea when Jennifer offered it. After consulting with Doctor Morrison, Jennifer set up an IV with Ringer's Lactate and 5% dextrose and reduced the Lasix.

When she finished, Jennifer asked me to step out of the room.

"Keiko should keep the pulse oximeter on her finger," she said. "Keep an eye on the readings. You'll see decreased pulse, increased temperature, and decreased PO₂. If her PO₂ drops below 85%, or her temperature goes above 103°F, call the emergency number on the chart, and one of us will come over right away. The same is true if her pulse drops below 45 for a sustained period of time."

"How long?"

"I'd say five minutes. All of those are signs that her time is near."

"Do you have an idea?"

"I'd say no more than a week, maybe a bit less. But it could also be tomorrow. Once she's no longer coherent, she can't tell us if anything feels wrong, and we don't have a full set of monitors on her."

"What else would you have?"

"Blood pressure, EKG, and respiration, including CO₂ in her exhaled breath. But we're not going to intervene, so doing those things makes no sense."

"What about taking her out of bed."

"If she's aware, it's fine, but we're close enough to the end that bed sores won't be a problem. Do you have a counselor?"

"There's one I've spoken to about stress."

"Good."

"Is there anything else I can do for her?"

"Hold her hand and talk to her, even if she doesn't seem to be aware you're there. There is evidence that people in comas are aware of things like that, and it will comfort her emotionally."

"I'll do that."

"See you around 6:00pm."

I walked her out, then returned to the Japanese room, and because Keiko was awake, lifted her from the bed and held her while sitting in a Papasan chair. When she fell asleep, I put her back in the bed, covered her, then held her hand for about twenty minutes. I sat with Keiko the rest of the day, sometimes cuddling her, sometimes holding her hand, and other times simply sitting quietly reading while she slept. A few of her friends visited during the day, but they only stayed a few minutes, as Keiko was extremely tired.

_December 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

On Friday, at Keiko's insistence, I attended the Spurgeon Christmas Party. She'd only been awake for a few minutes during the afternoon, and the first thing she'd said was I should go to the party. I'd agreed, and Bianca and I had left the house at 6:30pm to drive back to the Hancock Center in time for dinner. We'd agreed to skip cocktail hour because Bianca couldn't drink due to her pregnancy, and I wanted an additional hour with Keiko.

"What are these things like?" Bianca asked.

"The food is good, the booze is good if you can drink it, and Noel's speech isn't too long. The highlight is the Christmas bonus."

"How does that work?"

I shrugged, "I have no idea how Mr. Spurgeon decides. For all I know, he throws darts at a dartboard!"

"You don't believe that for a second!"

"No, of course not! But it's true that I don't know how he makes decisions about bonuses. All of them are at his discretion, and the number in your contract is a target, but it's neither a guarantee nor a cap. That said, Christmas bonuses are separate from performance bonuses. I have no idea what you should expect, either. The same goes for your annual bonus, which is paid in January."

"Well," Bianca said, "no matter what, it's found money, and I'm already making more than I would have if I'd finished my degree."

"You're starting school again in August, right?"

"Yes. I'll take a CS class and a stats class. Are you planning for evening or weekend classes next Fall?"

"It'll depend on what I want to take, though, at this point, it seems less important. If you're going to take two classes, someone will need to stay with Sofía."

"I know this is a taboo question at Spurgeon, but given we're having a baby together, what's your total compensation likely to be next year?"

"Rough guess? $300 grand, including bonus."

"We are SO getting a live-in nanny!" Bianca declared.

"The problem with that is one of space," I replied.

"May I make a radical suggestion?" Bianca inquired.

"Of course," I agreed as I pulled into the parking garage at the Hancock Center.

"There are really nice condos in this building, including some with four, five, or six bedrooms. With your salary, you could easily afford something like that. Obviously, I'd contribute, and we'd have enough room for Deanna's studio."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to move or to make that kind of investment."

"The commute would be awesome!"

I laughed, "Sure, but don't you think a kid needs a yard?"

"There are parks, and, honestly, do you see yourself as a suburban dad commuting in by car or train every day from Oak Brook or wherever?"

"Not really. Can we defer this conversation until after…New Year's?"

"Sorry, I should have been more sensitive."

"It's OK. I'm just a bit preoccupied right now."

"As you should be! We have plenty of time to sort things out."

It was true that Bianca and I did have plenty of time, but that was not the case for Keiko and me. I parked, and Bianca and I got out of the car and rode the elevator to the lobby, then took the express elevator to the 95th floor. As soon as we stepped off the elevator, Samantha, Noel's daughter, came up to us. She was dressed in a formal gown and looked very cute.

"Welcome!" she exclaimed. "The bar is still open, and dinner will be served in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you," I said.

"Dad said you have a new job!"

"I do. How is school?"

She rolled her eyes, "The nuns are a pain in the butt!"

"You go to Catholic school?"

"It's a good private school. Enjoy your dinner!"

"Thank you."

We walked away and once we were in the restaurant, Bianca leaned close.

"Seven going on twenty-seven?"

"Pretty much. Jack Nelson calls her 'Pipsqueak' and says she's the queen bee, but I just don't see Noel Spurgeon willingly turning over his empire to a _girl_."

Bianca laughed, "You got THAT right!"

We got Cokes, then found our table and sat down. As I'd predicted, the food was good, though I passed on drinking anything, and Mr. Spurgeon's speech reflected the extremely profitable year we'd had.

As was the case at the previous two parties, bonus checks were distributed, and I simply pocketed mine without looking. Bianca saw me do that and slipped hers into her purse. Once dessert was finished, Bianca and I made our way to the elevators, joined by a few others. It wasn't until we were in the car that we opened the envelopes.

"$2500," Bianca said, looking at hers. "Well, before taxes."

"$10,000," I replied.

"Is that good?"

I shrugged, "As you said, it's 'found money', and my previous bonuses were $800 and $4000."

"It's hard to believe how much money is thrown around here."

"I can't be sure, but a rough estimate is that Mr. Spurgeon made $5 million in salary and probably $100,000,000 in personal gains across all the funds. It was a VERY good year for the firm."

"And your daily reports say next year is going to be tough."

"It is, and part of that is that Volcker's hands are somewhat tied — if he cuts interest rates, it looks as if he's helping Reagan; if he raises them, he looks as if he's helping the Democrats. That shouldn't matter, but it does. Tony thinks it'll be a down year for the Dow, and I can't argue with that. On the other hand, I think the Nikkei will continue to climb."

"Given Matheson deals mostly in currencies, how does that affect him?"

"The more trade, the more opportunities to make money. In a stagnant economy or worse, a recession, or even worse, with 'stagflation', his job is difficult. That said, even in down years, there is plenty of foreign trade, so he'll be able to make money."

"What would you do as a retail investor?"

"Buy a Nikkei Index fund! Short of that, and if I were conservative, a treasury fund. You'll beat inflation, and it's the safest investment that pays a return. I could put my entire fund into Treasuries and beat the hurdle, but that's not what earns me my fees."

"You use those to generate cash for the pension funds, right?"

"Yes. A mix of varying maturities so that I always have cash on hand, but cash that is earning a real return. As interest rates come down, that strategy won't beat the hurdle, and I'll need to think about ways to improve those returns. The problem is that high-grade corporate bonds and triple-tax-free municipal bonds have long maturities. But the analysis Joel and Mark completed last week predicts interest rates over 8% for at least another year, and probably longer, so it's not an immediate concern."

"I'm amazed at how much you keep in your head."

"It's one of the keys to being successful in this business. Mr. Matheson has an encyclopedic knowledge of FX. I can write something in a report, and he'll remember it weeks later, almost verbatim. I've seen that with Noel Spurgeon about stocks. Another key skill is being able to digest huge amounts of information and synthesize a response in a short amount of time."

"You're extremely good at that."

"Which is why I'm running the Research Department, not a desk, though I'm an outlier because I'm running my own fund."

"All because a certain underage rich girl offered pussy and rewarded you for an over-the-top deflowering with managing her trust fund!"

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that, but I am going to ask you to not say that aloud ever again."

"It's just the two of us here unless you think Matheson has the car bugged!"

I chuckled, "I doubt it, but being with Jeri was an indiscretion which cannot ever be repeated. It's why I put off Clara until she was seventeen. And before you ask, I haven't given any serious thought to the future. Right now, it has to be about Keiko."

"I know."

When we arrived home, Keiko was sleeping, and after considering my options, I decided to sleep in one of the Papasan chairs in the Japanese room so I could be near her.