A Calculated Risk by Katherine Neville (most difficult books to read txt) 📕

Pearl. “You look too young to have had all that active duty! But maybe you can tell me what to ask for when I get my next servicing—so the car won’t get away from me like that again?”

“Would you like me to take a look under your hood?” he inquired politely, slipping his ticket book away.

Tavish and I glanced at each other and smiled.

“I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate that,” Pearl said, and led him up to listen to her engine run.

We had lunch amid the feathery palms and under the vaulted glass roof of the Palace’s Palm Court—eggs Benedict and Ramos fizzes and lots of dark, rich coffee. When the waiters had stopped replenishing our water glasses, we were alone.

“It seems you’ve chosen the right friend to help you with your crime,” commented Tavish. “We’ve just seen Mademoiselle Lorraine violate with impunity half of the state highway regulations—and try to bribe a police officer. With her body!”

“He was a highway patrolman,” Pearl corrected him. “California has the cutest highway patrolmen of any state in the country, and believe me, I’m a seasoned judge. I love it when they pull me over like that.”

The restaurant was nearly empty, the sea of peach-and-gold carpeting, marble pillars, and crisp white tablecloths restored to impeccable elegance after the luncheon crush. The time had come.

“I want to talk turkey with both of you,” I told them. “As of last week, I had a very important job lined up with the Federal Reserve Bank: director of security. I’ve been working all my life toward remedying the deplorable way banks are run—at least, in my own small way. But I’m at a dead end; I can’t get any higher where I am, and I know it. There are no women executive vice-presidents at the bank, no women on the board. It’s unlikely I’ll live long enough to realize any of my goals. But I could have, at the Fed.”

“What happened?” asked Tavish.

“What do you think? Kiwi sabotaged the job for me—and guess why?”

“You’d be breathing down his neck to get him to do all the things he’s refused to do so far,” said Tavish. “Like spend fifty cents on control of any sort.”

“So it’s a vendetta,” said Pearl with a smile. “You want us to help you rob his systems, to prove he’s an ignorant boob.”

“I think it began that way,” I admitted. “But I’ve learned a few things since then. Kiwi’s the tip of the iceberg—there are plenty more like him. I want to nail them all, but I need your help.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Tavish, sipping his café. “We’re going to expose every nefarious banker on earth—force the world banking community to behave like gentlemen all with one blow—just by proving we can break into one little system here at the Bank of the World?”

He was cynical—but I did notice he’d said “we.” I smiled.

“I have to agree with the surly Scot,” said Pearl. “I think you’ve been carried away—but it’s not too late to stop all this. I’m sorry; I should have told you on the phone that Tavish and I have done something in your absence which might change a few of these plans.”

“We had to do it,” he chimed in. “We didn’t realize you were serious about this mad idea of theft. We were only afraid you’d be sent to Frankfurt in the dead of winter—and we’d wind up working for the likes of Kiwi and Karp, without any leverage at all.”

“Oh no,” I said, my heart sinking. “You’d better tell me what you’ve done.”

“We sent an official report to the Managing Committee,” said Pearl, “We recommended the quality circle be taken away from your control.…”

I was blind with fury; they had to calm me down and order another drink. After all my machinations and planning—in one fell swoop—they’d lost both the quality team and my wager for me. I certainly couldn’t whip up another scheme like that one, not on such short notice—and after this one had failed. If I couldn’t see my way out of this, in a month I’d be working for Tor in New York.

They were filled with apologies, but kept pointing out the wisdom of their deed. At last, I was calm enough for them to explain precisely what they’d done.

“We didn’t exactly say that the quality team should not work for you,” Pearl assured me. “We knew Kiwi was planning to seize the group for himself—turn it over to Karp, perhaps—but he needed to make sure that our thrust did not affect any of his own systems. You would have been gone—in Frankfurt. There was nothing we could do about that.”

“So we told them,” said Tavish, “that the quality team—due to the sensitive nature of our work—should not report to any managers in charge of cash-clearing systems. After all, those are the systems we’re supposed to be hitting, right?”

“We thought if they moved the team from your control, Kiwi wouldn’t be so hot to send you away,” said Pearl. “I guess we blew it?”

“Maybe not,” I told her, feeling drained but no longer angry; after all, their intentions had been the best. “Do you know where they’re going to put the team? They can’t give it to Karp—he has money systems, too.”

But when I thought of it, I knew there wasn’t one banker there who would accept responsibility for a group like mine, without diluting its task beyond all recognition. It would be like advertising your colleagues’ dirty-laundry lists.

“Our proposal says we should report to no one,” said Tavish. “At least—not an official line manager. We’re supposed to be above all that.”

“They have to put you somewhere,” I told him. “You’re not like a roving wolf pack—you have an official mission statement, blessed by the highest steering committee at the bank.”

But of course, that’s when I understood. No ruling had been passed yet—perhaps it was still not too late.

“What if I joined the quality circle myself—as coordinator?” I suggested.