Hot Mahogany

“Which was Sunday night?”

“That’s correct.”

“So now you owe her estate twenty million dollars?” The banker’s eyes were wide.

“Correct again.”

“Do you have twenty million dollars?”

“Of course not. Why do you think I’m here?”

“You want to borrow twenty million dollars from us?”

“What’s the matter, James, don’t you have twenty million dollars?”

“Of course we do, but… what sort of collateral can you offer?”

“The collection itself. I put its value at between forty and fifty million dollars.”

“Have you had an independent appraisal?”

“That would take weeks, perhaps months. I know as much about these pieces as anyone in the country; I am certain of their value, and I must close this deal in ten days.”

“Barton, do you know what you’re asking?”

“Of course I do. I would only need the loan for a short period, perhaps as little as three months.”

“It’s not the term of the loan that worries me, Barton; it’s the ten days before you must have the money.”

“I know this is unusual, James, but it’s also the greatest opportunity of my lifetime, one that will make me very wealthy.”

“How would you realize the value of the collection? Auction it?”

“It would take at least a year to pull off an auction this big,” Barton said. “I have a different plan.”

“I’d like to hear about that,” Foster said.

“It’s my intention to offer the collection to some of the biggest museums in the country,” Barton said, “intact. They would pay for the collection by soliciting large donors, and they would display it, permanently, in replicas of some of the rooms of the Strong house.”

“It sounds as though you’re talking about building a wing onto a museum. That would take a lot longer than an auction.”

“No, there are several museums that could make room for the collection in their present space.”

“Barton, I really think it would be better to auction the collection piece by piece. You’d get huge publicity for such a sale, wouldn’t you?”

“Certainly,” Barton said, “but I don’t think you’d realize as much money from such an auction.”

“You expect to get more from a museum?”

“The whole of the collection is worth more than the sum of the parts,” Barton explained, “and only a museum could raise sufficient funds to buy it intact. You have to understand that the availability of this collection is an historic event, one that will never occur again.”

“Well, I suppose you have a point there, Barton, but you’re talking with a bank here. The loan committee could not approve such a large loan; it would have to go to the board, and it couldn’t even be presented to them until the whole collection had been appraised by an established authority, like an auction house, perhaps more than one. There are also questions of security and insurance that would have to be satisfied.”

“I understand that this is an unusual request, James, but I’ve been a client here for a long time, and I have put much more than twenty million dollars in cash flow through this bank during those years.”

Foster consulted his calendar. “Barton, the next scheduled meeting of the board is five weeks from today, and I’m not sure we could get the appraisals done by that time. They’re certainly not going to call a special board meeting for this purpose, and, anyway, I happen to know that three of the board members, including the chairman, are abroad. Couldn’t you ask for more time to close the deal?”

“The executors of Mrs. Strong’s estate have made it clear that they will be strict about the terms of the contract. For all I know, they may have an auction house waiting in the wings to pull this collection to pieces and scatter it all over the world.”

Foster spread his hands wide. “Barton, I appreciate everything you’ve said, and I’m sure the collection is as important and worth as much as you say it is, but I’m afraid that, given the time pressure, the deal is just not doable for us. And I’m afraid that you’d get the same answer from any other bank.”

Barton hauled himself to his feet. “Thank you for your candor, James.”

Foster walked him to the door. “A better bet might be to approach a very wealthy individual who might buy the collection and present it to a museum.”

“Then I would lose any control I might have over where and how the collection would be displayed.”

“It’s an imperfect world, Barton.”

The two men shook hands, and Barton left. He went to a Kinko’s, where copies of his prospectus had been run off and bound. He messengered copies to Carla and Stone, then FedExed others to eight museum directors with a covering letter, then he drove back to Co

When Barton reached home, he got the mail from his mailbox and let himself into the house. He made a fire in the study, poured himself a drink and sat down to warm up. In his mind he riffled through his client list, most of them wealthy people, but he could not come up with one who would have both the cash and the commitment to collecting that would be required to bring the deal off. Harlan Deal, for instance, certainly had the money, but not the taste or sophistication to appreciate the value of the collection, let alone the commitment to a museum.

He began opening his mail. Halfway through the stack he came across an engraved envelope; inside was a di

Perhaps, he thought, he might know the right man after all.

54

Stone sat at his desk, going over the bank statements, broker- age statements and credit card statements of Henry Ke

“Hello?”

“It’s Stone. How is the cleanup going?”

“I’ve got a professional crew, and they’ve promised to stay until it’s done, even if it’s midnight.”

“Good. Be sure and call your insurance company; they’ll pay for it.”

“I have already done that; their adjuster just left. I had to file a police report, though.”

“Good. That’s one more bargaining chip. And speaking of bargaining chips, do you have a pencil and paper?”

“I’ll get one,” she said and put down the phone. A moment later she was back. “Go ahead.”

“First of all, how long ago did you and Henry separate?”

“About five weeks ago.”

“Good. All of the following expenditures were made since that time.”

“Expenditures? Henry’s?”

“Yes.”

“How would you have access to his expenditures?”

“You’re not to ask me that; just listen.”

“All right.”

“During the past thirty days, Henry has spent more than eight thousand dollars in restaurants. I can tell you from experience that he would have to order a lot of expensive wines to get that figure so high. He has also spent more than two thousand dollars with a florist, and about twelve thousand dollars with three jewelers. Has he taken you to di

“Certainly not.”

“Then here’s what you do: You instruct your attorney to get a subpoena for all of Henry’s financial records and to look for these expenditures, but don’t mention the exact amounts or tell him that I gave you this information. Remember, he has spent all this money from marital funds, so you’re entitled to half in cash.”

“That’s wonderful, Stone! How on earth…”

“No, no, no,” Stone interrupted. “Don’t ask.”

“Oh, all right.”

“And don’t tell your attorney that you’ve learned all this; just tell him you’ve become suspicious of Henry’s spending habits since you parted.”

“All right.”

“Now to more pleasant things. I have a little house in Washington, Co