Spontoon Island
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Katie MacArran
-by John Urie-
Pursuit! A Spontoon Island Story By John Urie Part One. On Your Marks... Chapter 13
It was a wise decision on Jim Spanaway’s part to wait until he and Katie could talk privately. The mountain goat wasn’t even able to finish his first sentence before she was up on her hooves and whinnying in outrage. “He can’t...HE CAN’T!!” “I’m afraid he did, Katie,” Jim told her with grim sigh, “It’s an old law...goes all the way back to 1798, but it’s never been repealed; As Joe’s only surviving male heir and a stockholder in his company, Colin can seize control of your grandfather’s assets in the event he’s incapacitated..” They were seated amidst the potted palms and plush furniture in a private suite in the new Beverly Wilshire Hotel, a room that always seemed to be softly lit, in spite the glaring sun beyond the window. “There’s more I’m afraid, Katie.” Jim was saying, “He also put the house in Boulder up for sale. Told me ‘Once, my grandfather threw me out of that house, now I’m throwing HIM out.’,” His look changed from grave to incensed. “...just before he fired me.” Katie buried her eyes in her hooves and began to sob. At once, Jim Spanaway was there with a comforting arm around her shoulder. She didn’t even notice. How could this have happened? A year ago, she’d broken Colin like a stick, had him practically groveling before her. How could he have turned the tables in such a total and complete fashion...and in such a short time? How had he pulled it off? It was several minutes before she could regain enough control to put voice to the question “You can thank his American business partners for that, Katie.” said the mountain goat, with an expression as taut as a bridge-cable. “For the past year, Colin’s been doing what your father never did...conducting business with them directly. Instead of delivering the product to a warehouse in Britain and forgetting about it, now he has it delivered to all the way to the States. He provides the ships, his partners provide the protection and payoffs at the New York wharves. More profit for him, less headaches for them, and everyone’s happy...except the Treasury Department. Your brother’s also been taking payment in American Dollars instead of Pounds Sterling. He’s even partnered with the wiseguys to set up several distilling operations right here in the US...same stuff as they make in Scotland, but without the overseas transportation costs. Very risky move on his part...but Colin figures if the Feds try to give him any trouble, all he has to do is hop the first boat back to Britain, where he’ll be safe. And he’s right. Even HE won’t be extradited to the US for violating the Volstead act.” “What if he does have to make a run for it?” asked Katie, with a hopeful sniffle, “Wouldn’t he have to give up control of Grandpa Joe’s assets if he’s out of the country?” Joe shook his head, sadly. “Not if he appoints a business manager and empowers him to run things in his absence. That’s the big reason he got rid of me, so he could bring in his own guy. I know the fur he hired, too...Ernie Shapiro, water shrew. Really smart, but about as judicious in his business dealings as Mark Twain. Always goes for the quick profit, never mind the long term risks. He’s also worked very closely with another one of your brother’s ‘business partners’, Meyer Lansky.” “I see,” said Katie, who was rapidly beginning to regain her composure. She looked directly at Jim with her one blue eye. “How the Hell did Colin do it?” she asked, “How the HELL did he get the courts to make that ruling?” Once again, the mountain-goat’s expression turned to iron. “Like I said, it was through his business partners, Katie. If there’s one thing the wiseguys know how to do, it’s to work the bench. Colin’s lawyer found a line of cases from 1798, and was able to show that the revised McKinney's Consolidated Statutes....uhhh, sorry that's New York’s law codification...that they don't contradict any of it. The judge who ruled in Colin’s favor was the honorable Joseph P. McManus. His last ruling before he gave Colin control of Combs Mining Machinery was to dismiss a fraud case against Benny Siegel that even his own attorney thought was airtight.” He paused for a second, then added uncomfortably, “And of course, Colin waited until you were halfway around the world before making his move.” “No kidding.” said Katie, her stolid facade cracking once more, “How is my grandfather taking this?” Jim looked away for a second. “He..He doesn’t know about it, Katie...or maybe he does. I’m not sure. You see...he’s...the Parkinson’s is affecting his mind in a big way right now. That’s the other reason Colin was able to take over. What Joe is going through right now is a lot like senility. He’ll be completely lucid one day, and then the next, he won’t remember what you said to him a minute ago. Sometimes he wakes up thinking he’s still in Colorado.” “Maybe that’s just as well,” she said, sniffling. “Maybe it’s better that he’s not able to understand what happened..” “That’s my thought also.” said Jim, “Honestly, I’m not sure if Joe could handle it, if he knew what was going on.” “Where’s he staying?” asked Katie, suddenly remembering, and becoming even more alarmed as something else occurred to her, “Who’s taking care of him? Please tell me Colin doesn’t have him...” “No, Katie.” Jim told her, quickly, “He’s at a private hospital out on Long Island....and he’s getting the absolute best of care. Colin knows that if Joe passes now, all his stock in Combs Mining Equipment will go straight to you. Your grandfather stipulated that in his will...and his will was made out long before the Parkinson’s got bad. AND I don’t think Colin would be too eager to take you on in probate court again. Right now, the only thing that’s keeping him in control is that antiquated law his attorneys found...and even that law will never hold up on appeal. The New York State Appellate Court is one place where the even the wiseguys have no influence...not with Benjamin Cardozo on the bench.” “Then why is Colin even doing this?” Katie asked, exasperated. “It can’t just be for spite. My brother may be heartless, but even he’s not that petty. Why take control of Combs Mining if he knows he’ll just have to give it up anyway?” “Because first it’s got to GET to the appeals court, Katie.” Jim responded, sighing wearily. “Even with an honest lower court, that would take at least a year. And there’s a helluva lot Colin can do in that amount of time. With me gone and Ernie Shapiro in charge, he’s pretty much got the board wrapped around his fingers. I know for a fact that they already voted to give him a fat bonus...and that’s only what he can do LEGALLY Other than that...well, you know him better than I do. Do you honestly think that your brother will keep everything on the up-and-up?” “Not for a minute!” Katie snuffled angrily. “He’ll loot the company.” “Right,” said the mountain goat, and put his arm around her shoulder again, “At least you should know that he hasn’t denied Mary and myself access to Joe..as a matter of fact, he likes it that way. Leave us the headache of actually seeing to Joe’s needs while he goes off and enjoys his life of leisure.” Katie snorted and her head pulled back. “Life of leisure?” That didn’t sound like the Colin she knew...or did it?. “Oh, yes.” said Jim, “He’s leaving the actual running of Combs to Ernie Shapiro...and he’s got someone else managing the distilleries too, the ones in Britain I mean. Don’t remember his name, but he’s doing a tremendous job from what I hear. Production’s even higher than when Colin was in charge, and he trimmed the production costs too.” Here, he hawked and spat into the waste-basket. Normally that would have disgusted Katie, but given the subject currently under discussion, it seemed a most apropos gesture. “As for His Grace,” Jim went on, “as I mentioned as second ago, he’s got more important things to do than worry about his businesses...like lay around on a beach somewhere. That’s what he’s doing right now, down in Havana.” “Havana, huh?” asked Katie, raising her ears. Jim Spanaway immediately raised HIS hooves. “Whoa, I hope you’re not thinking of going down there to confront him.” Katie tossed her head and snorted “And give him exactly what he wants? Not hardly. No, it’s just that I’ll bet Colin ends up leaving Cuba with the title to a rum distillery in his pocket. Like Bill Hearst once told me, say what you like about my brother, he knows the liquor business.” “You’d lose that bet, Katie.” said Jim Spanaway, his expression turning lopsided, “Colin may still have that kind of savvy, but he rarely puts it to use these days. The most he’s likely to do is cable his fur in Britain to come out and see about making the acquisition...and then only if the opportunity practically falls into his lap.” “Are you serious?” said Katie. Even in his worst moments, Colin had never been...hold on, what about that trip he’d made to Berlin less than a year after his Mediterranean adventure? “I swear, you wouldn’t recognize him if you saw him.” Jim was telling her through another tight expression, “He’s gained so much weight over the past year, he looks like either an undersized draft horse or an oversized pony, take your pick.” “Can I pick none of the above?” asked Katie with a short horse-laugh, and then she grew very serious. “Listen, Jim...since you’re not working for Combs any more, there’s something I need...” That was as far as she got before he raised a hoof. “Katie, I appreciate the offer, but I already have ...” “No, no Jim.” she said, pushing on quickly, “I mean I REALLY need your help...tried to cable you about it from Tokyo. Listen...” She related for the mountain goat all that she had seen and heard in Japan. Jim listened to her account with a cool expression, but she could see him tapping his fingers together..a sign of disquiet that she knew all too well. When she finished, he puffed out his cheeks, “Whoa...I’d heard things were bad in Japan...but foxes eating tree bark? That’s a new one on me.” He leaned close and took her by the hooves, “You’re sure...really sure no one’s buying Japanese silk because they’re at their credit limit? That’s the part that most disturbs me.” Katie responded with a shrug and spread hooves. “All I know is that’s what Takeo Shinmyo told me...and I can’t see him lying about it after all the trouble he took to see me in private.” “Neither can I.” Jim replied, getting to his feet, “I’ll take the next train back to New York and see what I can find out.” When Katie returned to the lobby, she found a very annoyed George Hearst and Lady Drummond-Hay waiting for her. “Where’ve you been?!” the white furred cat demanded, “We were supposed to be at MGM studios for the reception an HOUR ago!” Katie took them both aside and quickly explained what happened with Colin. That made George Hearst even more irate. But not at her...at Colin for somehow escaping his notice with that latest bit of legal chicanery. “Goddam equine bastard! I swear, your brother’s harder to get rid of than cockroaches.” Lady Drummond-Hay’s reaction was equally vehement, if not quite as colorful. “Do you want to skip the last leg of the Graf flight, and come back to New York with me?” asked George Hearst. The bear was leaving via a chartered plane for New York later that afternoon, in order to be there with his father when the Graf Zeppelin completed her flight at Lakehurst. Katie managed a smile while declining offer. “No...I’ve come too far to quit now. But can you make some space on your plane for my financial advisor, Jim Spanaway? I need to get him back to New York as soon as possible.” “Yes, of course.” said Hearst, mercifully not asking her why. The last part of the flight also proved to be the most routine...or would have been were it not for the cheering throngs that hailed the Zeppelin wherever she passed. Despite her anxiety, Katie couldn’t help being caught up in the excitement of the moment. And she was not alone. All the rest of the passengers and crew felt the same way. They were about to accomplish what had never been done – the circumnavigation of the earth by an airship, and they would do it after having traveled over parts of the world that had never seen ANY kind of aircraft before. When the Graf Zeppelin touched down in Lakehurst, the celebrations easily dwarfed anything that had come before. There was a ticker-tape parade up Broadway, there was an official welcome from Mayor Jimmy Walker, and there was even a reception at the White House. All these ceremonies however, were aimed at the Graf’s officers and crew. The passengers were mostly left to their own devices, which suited every one of them just fine. After almost three weeks of alternating between flying and glad-handling, they needed some quiet time, especially the journalists, all of whom had stories to file. Katie had no sooner come down the Graf’s gangway, than she was handed a message from Jim Spanaway, “Working on it. Can’t say anything till I learn more. Come by for dinner tonight, but don’t expect much news yet.” Katie expected to only pick at her food. Instead she ate ravenously. It was the first home-cooked meal she’d had in almost a month. Over the course of that dinner, nothing was said of Colin, or of Katie’s forebodings about the state of the markets. Instead it was her turn to be the story-teller, regaling her hosts with tales of her experiences aboard the Graf and the cities she had visited. It was also her first chance to relate the story of her flight to the Horn for the Spanaways Then there was more about the Graf to talk about. “I bought presents for everyone while I was in Tokyo.” she said, “But I wasn’t able to bring any of them back with me. When the Zeppelin company says only 50 pounds of baggage, they MEAN only 50 pounds of baggage. So, I’m having it all shipped back by freighter...except for...” That was when her voice faltered. “What is it dear?” asked Mary placing a kindly hoof atop hers. Katie let out a long, long sigh. “Except for the silk jacket I bought for Grandpa Joe,” she said, and then taking in a deep breath as though preparing to dive into ice-cold water, she added, “I want to see him. Jim...Mary? I want to see him.” The Spanaways did their best to prepare her for the encounter...but even before she saw her grandfather, Katie knew that their groundwork wasn’t going to be adequate. When they entered the hospital’s reception area, the first thing they saw were four elderly furs in wheelchairs, lined up against the wall, facing the desk as though awaiting a verdict. All of them were staring, openmouthed, into space. If Katie hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that they were all dead. Grandpa Joe’s room was on the second floor. It was a large, clean, airy enclosure with cheerful, pastel walls. Just the same, there was an aura of gloom about the place from the minute the Katie stepped through the door. Joe was seated in a wing-chair as she entered, bent over a book laid open on the heavy, walnut table before him, a book that he was studying with the intensity of a professor trying to decipher hieroglyphics. It was Volume ‘G’ of the Encyclopedia Britannica. Katie didn’t gasp, or feel an urge to flee the room when she saw him, but Grandpa Joe had aged horribly since their last meeting. His muzzle fur, mostly brown back then, had now turned completely white, and his spine had begun to curve, giving him the appearance of a wizened Hunchback of Notre Dame...or maybe even a vulture. His mane and tail were neat at least. The hospital staff had done a good job there. But so much fur was sprouting from his ears, that Katie honestly wondered if he would be able to hear her. He had also lost a great deal of weight; she could have put a fist between his neck and collar. But the worst thing of all was the trembling. Grandpa Joe was shivering like an orphan in a blizzard. Katie almost felt like throwing a blanket around him, even though it was nearing the end of August and the fan in the corner was not rotating. “Hi Grandpa.” she said, putting an arm around his shoulder and giving him a peck on the cheek. He turned to look at her with expressionless eyes. “Did you bring the hammer, Bess?” he asked, then returned to his book before Katie could answer, ignoring her as if she’d never been there at all. Things did not improve over the course of her visit. Twice more he addressed her by the name of her grandmother, and once by her mother’s name...that is, those few moments when he even acknowledged her presence in the room. And even when he did, it was always to ask for something and then forget what he wanted before she could respond. When she showed him the jacket she’d bought for him, he grabbed it out of her hooves and threw it in the corner grumbling, “Too damn warm for that!” It was the closest he came to making a rational statement the whole time she was there. Katie cried all the way back to New York. As they were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, Jim Spanaway angrily punched the steering wheel. “Should never have taken you. Should never have let you see him like that.” “N-No, Jim.” said Katie, a steely resolve somehow managing to edge it’s way out between the sobs, “I...n-needed to...to do that. As bad as it was, it’s...ssssstill better than wondering. At least, now I...I know.” “Yer should be aware he’s not that way all the time, dear.” offered Mary, putting on her best brave face “Some days, he’s almost like his old self. And he knows...he knows those times won’t last. On good days, he always tries t’ cram in as much activity as he can...and he always knows when he’s startin’ to slip back.” Katie just cried even harder. She spent the next two days doing pretty much a lot of nothing. She went shopping and didn’t buy anything. She went to the movies and left halfway through the feature. She went to Central Park and just stared out over the reservoir. Then, just after 9 AM on the third day, while Katie was in the midst of NOT eating a room-service breakfast, the desk clerk at the Astoria Hotel called and said that a Mr. James Spanaway was downstairs with some urgent business to discuss. “Send him right up.” said Katie, and then remembered that she was clad in only her undies and a robe. “No, wait...give me a minute to get dressed first.” When he came into the room, Jim’s eyes were haggard and he was breathing hard. He looked as if he had run up the stairs rather than taking the elevator...and possibly he’d done just that. No sooner did the mountain goat take a seat opposite hers, than he let go a bombshell. “Katie, it’s worse than you thought...a LOT worse. It’s going to happen here, Katie...the New York Stock market is about to go the way of the Tokyo Exchange. I give it a month...’till Christmas at the outside before it collapses.” Katie gasped, then neighed in horror. Even in her worst-case scenario, she’d never imagined the end was that close. “When the Japanese stock market collapsed.” Jim was telling her, “it sent ripples throughout all the southeast Asian markets...which means the colonial powers. The British lost a heck of a lot of trade through India and Singapore, so to shore up those markets, they started pulling out of Wall Street. Then the Germans got into the act and started dumping their U.S. holdings. With that jury-rigged economy of theirs, I can’t say I’m surprised.” “But...But the markets are soaring.” said Katie. The mountain goat closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, and now for the first time she realized that he must not have slept since yesterday. “That’s because every damfool speculator on Wall Street is snapping up those stocks without asking any questions...and using up every last shred of credit they have to make the buys. That’s why the Japanese can’t extend them any; it’s all tied up over here.” His eyes closed, then opened again. “It’s out of control, Katie. Right now, I estimate that the average stock price is 30% over it’s true value and probably higher. I talked to Roger Babson over at the Business Statistical Organization yesterday. He’s been saying the market’s in trouble for two years now...but when I told him what you told me, he was so alarmed, he shelved the speech he was planning to make before the National Business Conference next week and now he’s going to tell them that the market’s going to crash and crash hard. Don’t expect anyone to listen to him, though...not when you’ve got the likes of R.W. McNeal and Stuart Chase swearing that the bull market is unstoppable.” “And you don’t agree?” asked Katie, “With McNeal and Chase I mean?” “Damn right I don’t!” said Jim, almost shouting. “What the Hell is everybody doing, buying stocks on credit with the fed raising interest rates? Did you know they just hiked the discount rate to 6%? It’s crazy, Katie...it’s sheer madness.” Katie hurried over and took him by the shoulders. ”Calm down, Jim.” she said, steering him gently over towards a chair. She sat him down and got him a glass of water, to which the goat added a shot from a silver-plated hip-flask. “That’s not...?” she asked, pointing. Jim’s mouth crinkled into a wry smile. “MacArran Scotch? Nooo, I lost my taste for that stuff years ago. It’s Seven Crown whiskey, from Canada.” He took a hefty swig and then looked at her. “What everyone is doing, is buying stock on credit, figuring they’ll make enough back on the dividends to pay off the loan and still realize a profit...only those dividends aren’t going to last much longer. America’s production capacity has already peaked ...happened back in June. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me. Production always ebbs and flows. But you throw in all those overvalued stocks, plus the loss of foreign investment and the spike in interest rates, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster in the making.” Katie shrugged and looked at him helplessly. “Jim...I...This isn’t my area. I don’t know...” Jim Spanaway took another swig, this time directly from the flask. Then he stood up. ”I know Katie. What I told you doesn’t even cover half of what’s happening and I oversimplified it to Hell and gone.” He put a hoof on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes, “What’s important is that you get out of the stock-market...get out NOW! And don’t put the money into American banks. After the market goes, they’ll be next. Deposit everything you have in Switzerland...preferably in Swiss Francs, coz the next thing to go after the banks will be the value of the dollar.” “It’s that bad?” Katie gasped. “It’s that bad,” he told her. Katie shook her head as though trying to wake up from a dream. “But, Jim...how can I get away with it? If I sell off my stock portfolio all at once like that, it’s going to look more than a little suspicious.” To her considerable surprise, Jim Spanaway chuckled. “Never thought I’d hear myself saying this Katie, but God bless your brother. Before you start unloading your stocks, make a public announcement that you’re NOT going to let Colin get away with taking over Combs Mining Equipment. That way everyone will assume you’re selling off your portfolio to raise capital for a takeover bid. Heck, that’s what I’d ADVISE you to do if you were going to trying and fight him.” “Should I...?” she queried, posing the obvious question. The mountain goat immediately shook his head. “If the market weren’t headed for a brick-wall Katie, I might say go ahead...but not now.” He smiled, “By the way, this will send the value of Combs Stock through the ceiling...and if Colin borrows against it before the crash hits...” He concluded by drawing a finger across his throat and making a gargling sound. It was not nearly as pleasing a pantomime to Katie as it was to him. Going to the window she leaned on the sill and stared down at the street....the bustle of the sidewalk, the taxicabs, so many cars, many of them almost brand new. Fur after fur, strolling in elegant clothes, looking so boisterously prosperous. Even the news-kit on the corner looked especially spiffy today. Say good-bye to all that... “What will happen to my Grandfather?” she said, clutching tightly at the windowsill, as she continued to gaze steadily at the scenery below, “What will happen to his company when the market collapses, now that Colin’s running it? You and I both know he wouldn’t listen to your advice, even if you were still working for him.” Something about the carpet pattern seemed to demand Jim Spanaway’s undivided attention at that instant and his voice lowered to an abashed near-mumble. “A month, even a week ago, I would have said Combs could ride it out. But now, with Ernie Shapiro in charge, I-I just don’t know, Katie. I’ve been completely shut out of the decision making process. No one tells me anything. The first thing Ernie did when he took over my job was force everyone out who wasn’t a yes-fur.” He looked up again, “For what it’s worth, I can tell you Colin’s other business venture in the states ISN’T going to survive. When the market goes, look for the Treasury boys to crack down hard on his bootleg operations. And that’s nothing compared to the trouble he’s going to have with the IRS over all the undeclared income from those hooch works. Uncle Sam might be a bit lax in his enforcement of the tax code when times are good, but not when the going gets tough. You watch, Katie...I predict that’s how they finally nail Al Capone. For tax evasion.” “Colin won’t care,” said Katie, bitterly. “Like you said, he’ll just go back to Britain.” “Yes, but he’ll go back a much less wealthy horse than he was before, Katie.” Jim told her, not smiling but not unhappy either, “And Eamon Mack tells me that he’s already starting to have some labor problems in his British distilleries. So far, he’s been able to keep it quiet by transferring more and more of his operation to America every time his British workers try and raise a stink...but if he loses the bootleg distilleries, they’ll have him by the sheath and they know it.” “Eamon Mack.” said Katie, looking away from the window. She had recently hired the Irish Setter away from Martin & Martin as her finance manager in Britain. “Christmas...what’s he going to say when I start to unload my shares? The rest of the world might think it’s for mounting a challenge against Colin, but not him.” “I already sent him a cable, telling him the gist of what I told you, Katie.” said Jim, straightening his stance like an innocent about to be condemned, “I apologize for not consulting you first but...” “No, no...thank you. That was the right thing to do. What did he say?” “He said he needs to know more, and that he’s looking into things ‘from our side of the pond’ as he puts it. I’m preparing a letter for you to take to him when you leave on the Graf. It lays out my findings in detail. In the meantime, Katie...I need you to come with me to my attorney’s office. You haven’t formally retained my services as of yet, and I can’t start moving to sell off your stocks until I’m legally empowered to do so.” He began liquidating her portfolio the very next day...the same day that Katie announced, in both the New York Journal and the Observer that Colin’s takeover of Combs Mining Machinery was not going to go unchallenged. Arriving back in Friedrichshafen aboard the Graf Zeppelin, Katie bade a hasty farewell to Lady Hay-Drummond-Hay, and caught the first train to Antwerp, Belgium, and the crossing back into England. Within an hours of her arrival in London, she was seated before the desk of Eamon Mack, who read the letter from Jim Spanaway, then lit a cigarette with fingers trembling almost as badly as her grandfather’s had. Then he said just four words, “I’m afraid he’s right.” He tried from there to go into an summary of his own findings, but Katie swiftly interrupted the canine, “You don’t need to explain yourself in detail. I believe you, all right? Just tell me what I should do with my British holdings.” This was a much trickier prospect than it had been in America. There, most of her holdings had been in stocks. Here in Britain, they were mostly in hard assets -- with three notable exceptions that Katie was loathe to part with; her shares in Bristol, Vickers, and the R-100. Finally Eamon Mack was able to talk her into letting go of at least the first two. “Dame Catherine...when the market goes, the value of both those companies is goin’ to fall so far that anyone who gets out now will be able to buy back everything they sold and then some afterwards.” “Okay,” said Katie, reluctantly, “Bristol goes now...and Vickers goes after the Schneider-Cup. But NO trying to talk me into selling my shares in the R-100. There’s a lot more than just my money invested in that airship, Eamon. That’s the one thing that’s not negotiable, period.” “‘Ave it yer own way, then.” said the canine with a sigh, “Now, about the rest of it, I’d hold on to the pubs, but let go of the hotel in Blackpool. There’s goin’ to be a lot less money for holidays when the crash hits, but no one’s goin’ to stop drinkin’. Actually, folks’ll drink a lot more, I shouldn’t wonder. Lot o’ sorrows to drown, and suchlike.” “What about the oil tanker?” she asked. “There’s been a standin’ offer from Shell to buy ‘er outright ever since yer da passed. I’d suggest that now’s the time to accept it.” “Done.” said Katie, “And let’s put the villa in France and the Chalet in Montreux up for sale too.” “The villa, fine,” said the Irish Setter, “but I’d suggest yer hold onto the chalet. If yer going to be moving most of yer assets into the Swiss banks, yer’d do well to maintain a place o’ residence in the country.” “All right, the chalet in Montreux stays. What else?” “Certainly, yer should hold on to that gold-mine in New Guinea...even if it’s not producing all that much at the moment. It’s the one investment that’s goin’ to go up in value when the market collapses. Stocks might tumble, the Pound might crumble, but gold will always be worth $35 American to the ounce...and if Mr. Spanaway’s projections are correct, the Dollar will soon be able to buy a lot more than it can right now. Same thing for the Pound. Keep that gold-mine.” “Okay,” said Katie...and little could she know that the investment she was most determined to cling to, and the investment Eamon Mack was most determined that she hold onto would soon become a joint venture -- and alter the course of her life more profoundly than even what had transpired so far... next Author’s note: Much thanks to EO Costello for technical advice regarding finances, legalities, etc. |