Joshua Then and Now

Run, Joshua, run. You’re not a man, but a mouse.

  3

  THE WHISPERS AND INFORMED WARNINGS HAD BEEN circulating for weeks. Coral stopped fattening on points. It stalled one morning, tottered the next, and on the opening of business at the Montreal Stock Exchange on a dry, sub-zero Wednesday it began to plunge, frenetic investors bailing out. There was no Gazette the next Monday, because of a printer’s walkout; they seldom watched the local TV news, so the scandal didn’t catch up with them until Tuesday. In the morning, Kevin’s picture was not only on the front page (a stricken but far-from-surprised Pauline absorbing every detail), but also in the business section and, ironically, on the society page again. The headline on the society page ran:

  BEL ET JAZZ SOARS AS ‘PARTY OF THE YEAR’

  “ ‘Among those enjoying the music of Perry Carman and his Orchestra on Saturday night,’ ” Joshua read aloud, savoring each idiocy, “ ‘were Richard Abbott, Q.C., and Mrs. Abbott, whose gown of pink georgette was worn with a stole of matching ostrich fronds; Mr. Gavin McTeer, and Mrs. McTeer, wearing a halter of black, sequined crepe; Isaac Singer, O.C., and Mrs. Singer, who had a rope of fragrant-smelling freesia around her neck and wore a sheath gown of off-white silk jersey; Mr. Eli Seligson, and Mrs. Seligson, wearing écru silk; Mr. Jeremy Gursky, and Mrs. Gursky, in a pajama ensemble of fuchsia and green patterned chiffon; Mr. Jack Trimble, and Mrs. Trimble, whose gown of –’ ”

  “Oh, stop it. Please, darling.”

  “Wait. Here comes the good part. ‘The evening’s highlight was a slick, short performance given by selected members of the ballet company and a group of good-natured men-about-town, ready to draw chuckles at their dancing technique. “Le ballet aquatique égyptien” saw the boys, among them Kevin Hornby, as towel-clad water-bearers, attempting to portray figures on an Egyptian frieze.’ ”

  The story in the business section was succinct. An immediate halt had been called to trading in the shares of Coral Trust, this year’s high-flier on the MSE, pending an investigation by the Quebec Securities Commission. The story on the front page offered hardly any more details, but was, nevertheless, charged with ominous undertones. The RCMP had raided the Stock Exchange Tower offices of Westmount Whizz Kid Kevin Hornby, seizing documents and correspondence. Hornby, outraged, claimed to be totally surprised by the move and pleaded with investors to remain calm. There had been no irregularities at Coral, he maintained, and he welcomed any investigation, which could only vindicate him. Jack Trimble, also on the Coral board, stated that he had complete confidence in his associate, the man in charge of the enterprise, but, on the advice of his lawyers, could not comment at this point in time.

  Joshua, who was bound for London on the evening flight and from there to Spain, had already packed. They had taken the children out to dinner the night before and now, as was their habit when he had to make a trip, they went to a small French restaurant they favored for lunch, ordering champagne.

  “I wish you were coming with me,” he said.

  “And I wish you weren’t going.”

  “I have to.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ve left the envelope in my top right-hand desk drawer.”

  A ritual comparatively new with him. In the event of an airplane crash, I leave everything I own to my wife Pauline. (Signed) Joshua Shapiro. Her eyes filled with angry tears, she said, “I hate your fucking envelope. I don’t want to know about it.”

  “But you have to.”

  “What will you say to that wretched Mueller after all these years?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “I wonder what would have happened if we’d met much earlier. Right here. When I was at McGill.”

  The mixed doubles champion. “We would have loathed each other on sight. Nothing would have been possible.”

  “Do you ever think that you’ve had enough and wish you were single again?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “And you?”

  “I sometimes wonder how the kids have survived this long. All those protruding table corners. The wall plugs. Whooping cough. Measles. But Alex is already growing away from me. Susy will be next. Ten years from now they’ll phone each other to say ‘It’s Sunday, you visit Mother this week.’ Have you ever been unfaithful to me?”

  “No.”

  “But don’t you ever want another woman? Jane, for instance.”

  “Certainly not Jane.”

  “Who, then?”

  “Strangers sometimes. A woman I might pass on the street.”

  “And what do you do about it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It wouldn’t be very flattering if you were faithful to me only because an affair would be something you couldn’t handle. I once told Jane that you were wonderful in bed.”

  “Wouldn’t you say that was somewhat perverse?”

  “There are times when I feel that if only you betrayed me, I could draw back a little. I might feel safer.”

  “I see,” he said sharply.

  “You simply don’t understand how much I’ve got at risk. I can’t imagine my life without you any more.”

  “But I’d be equally lost if anything happened to you.”

  “It would take time, but you’d adjust.”

  “I don’t like the turn this conversation is taking.”

  “But we seldom talk about anything any more. We meet in the hall to split duties. You go to Steinberg’s, I’ll take the shirts to Troy. Possibly our life together has come to lack a certain intensity. Oh, now you’re really getting angry.”

  “I’m not getting angry.”

  “You’re already in Spain.”

  “Damn it.”

  “There are other couples, you know, who wonder about us even now. They can’t understand what we have in common.”

  “And you?” he asked.

  “The truth?”

  “Please.”

  “When you fly off like this, I wish I were less dependent. I wish there was more of me,” and tears began to slide down her cheeks.

  Pauline’s cheeks.

  It was four o’clock, snowing again, and they were drinking coffee and cognacs together in the living room, reminiscing about halcyon days in London, when Kevin arrived, ashen-faced in spite of the cold, coming to the house directly from Dickie Abbott’s law office.

  “Trout, I’ve got to talk to you. Would you mind, Joshua?”

  Possibly, had he not already had so much to drink, Joshua would have left them alone. As it was, he didn’t budge.

  “I’d only tell him everything later,” Pauline said.

  Joshua fetched another snifter and poured Kevin a cognac. He fiddled uneasily with his glass, staring at the carpet. “I’ve got two tickets to the Boston game on Saturday night, if you want them?”

  “Thanks, but I won’t be here.”

  “He’s flying to London tonight.”

  “What fun,” Kevin said, brightening.

  “Yeah,” Joshua said morosely.

  “He’s going to a funeral.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I was hoping to go over for Wimbledon this summer. Did you ever go when you were living there?”

  “Trout did, not me.”

  Pauline shot him a reproving look.

  “Well, I suppose you’ve seen the Gazette?”

  “Yes,” Pauline said in a barely audible voice, imagining her father opening the paper in Ottawa. Kevin again.

  “Trout, whatever happens, I want you to know I didn’t steal. It’s all lies. Everything. From the first day to the last, I never really grasped what was going on at Coral.”

  “You were quoted in Maclean’s,” Joshua said, “as saying that not a dime of Coral’s money was invested without your approval.”

  “They made that up. They were lying.”

  “Jack Trimble assured me you made all the decisions.”

  “He made a point of telling everybody that. He knew what was coming. He was lying.”

  “Everybo
dy’s a liar but you,” Joshua said, suddenly turning pale. Echoes, echoes.

  “Yes,” he said. “I should have gone right on to Georgian Bay. I never should have stopped here. The truth is, Jack has loathed my guts since the day I flew in.”

  “Why did he offer you the job, then?” Pauline asked.

  “It was Jane’s idea. She told him everybody in the old bunch would think he was a fine fellow if only he could manage the redemption of poor old Kevin. And he took me on because he was already in deep trouble with his investments and I fit right into his plans. He set me up, Trout. I’m his patsy.”

  “Look here,” Joshua said, “you’re not going to lay everything off on Jack just because he wasn’t at L.C.C. or Selwyn House with you.”

  “I’m not laying anything off on him. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “How come you were so thick all winter, seen everywhere together, like the Three Musketeers?”

  “He’s a very devious man.”

  “And so are you.”

  “Would it be too much to ask if I could speak to my sister alone?”

  “How long have you been having an affair with Jane?”

  “That’s none of your goddamn business.”

  “He’s right, Josh.”

  “It wasn’t my doing, Trout. I wanted no part of it. Remember the evening you both came to dinner on the lake? Well, they had a fearful row in their bedroom that morning. I think it was over me. He wanted me to clear out. He drove into Montreal without even saying goodbye to me; it was awfully early, and he wasn’t supposed to come back until six. I thought Jane and I would be O.K. together, because Charlie would be there and little Alice, but they were sent off to the sailing club and she was everywhere I went in the house. Taunting me one minute, thrusting herself at me the next, drinking all the while. Saying I was a total failure, a fraud, a disappointment to everybody, a gigolo, and then making sexy suggestions. Could I still get it up, or was I thirty seconds of action and an hour of apology, like all the other so-called studs on the lake? I retreated to the boathouse, saying I was going to pack my scuba-diving equipment, and the next thing I knew she’s there, peeling off her bikini top, down on her knees, taking me.”

  “You mean to say,” Joshua asked, simulating horror, “she took advantage of you?”

  “I’m just telling you what happened.”

  “Jane’s not nearly so desperate or lacking in subtlety that she’s got to fling herself at somebody like that.”

  “Women have always found me very attractive.”

  “You’re full of shit,” Joshua said.

  “Will you please let him finish,” Pauline said.

  “She was like a crazed woman, Trout, I couldn’t stop her. When we finally came out of the boathouse, it was maybe four-thirty and Jack’s Jaguar was parked at the top of the hill. We hadn’t even heard him arrive. We slipped back into the boathouse and decided to return to the house separately. She continued up the hill and I went for a swim. When I got back to the house, determined to announce I would be off in the morning, Jack, to my amazement, was a totally different man. All sweetness and light. Jane was fondling his neck and he couldn’t stop grinning. ‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an offer to make you, old son.’ ”

  “And, in return, you’ve been screwing his wife ever since.”

  “I don’t have to take that from you, Shapiro.”

  Still, Pauline was silent, pensive.

  “She used to sneak down to see you in Bermuda, and that’s where you worked on her to cajole Jack into getting you the job.”

  “You’re out of your tree.”

  Joshua lit one cigarette off another.

  “Why,” Pauline asked in a quiet voice, “do you dislike Kevin so much?”

  His stomach churned.

  “Why, darling?”

  “Let me ask him a question instead. Why would Jack run Coral into the ground?”

  “He was dangerously overextended last summer, heading for real trouble. Speculations in oil leases. A wrong guess on how far the dollar would sink. Too many millions bet on property in Montreal. A combination of factors, all squeezing his cash flow. He was short in Zurich. He had overdue notes out in New York. I have good reason to believe he was only one step ahead of the securities commission when I came along and he launched Coral, using me as bait. We made money at first, good money, and then he began unloading worthless holdings from other funds into Coral at book-value prices. Oil leases. Real estate. The whole ball of wax.”

  “Why didn’t you protest?” Pauline asked.

  “I didn’t understand what was going on. I was euphoric. I thought we were doing great. I was foolish enough to think Daddy would read about me and be proud. I was earning bonuses. Fifty thousand one time, twenty-five thousand another. I had no idea anything was improper until the rumors started, and then I Xeroxed some papers and took them to Dickie Abbott’s office. He was horrified to see what I’d signed.”

  “Did you really not understand what was going on?” Pauline asked imploringly.

  “Whenever I’d query something he’d say, ‘You don’t worry your head about that, old son, let’s take the afternoon off and golf.’ Or ‘It’s nothing, just more government bumpf, sign the damn stuff and we’ll go and take in the boat show at Place Bonaventure.’ He was a desperate man. Foxy as a –” He stopped short.

  “As a what?”

  “As hell. He arranged everything so that he comes out clean. Clean? My innocent benefactor betrayed. And I’m the swindler. Trout, they’ve sealed my bank account. Government inspectors are going through it right now, and they’re going to find things I’ll never be able to explain. He used to put checks through my account, big ones, saying not to worry, it’s a tax thing. Do you realize who was in Coral, and I mean up to the neck? The McTeers, Abbott, the Friars, the Harpers, everybody we were at McGill with. The entire country club. Some of them may come out of it ruined, and I was the one who talked them into it. They’re going to think I was in on it all along. They’ll say I’ve got at least a million stashed away in Switzerland,” he said, his voice quavering.

  Joshua poured him another cognac and Kevin accepted it with a trembling hand. “I need your help, Trout.”

  “I don’t understand. What could I do?”

  Kevin hesitated.

  “Well?”

  “You could testify,” he said, his eyes welling with tears, “that you saw me sign Coral papers without reading them.”

  “Is that true, Pauline?” Joshua asked.

  “The day she came to look at my apartment,” he continued, staring at her, “Jack just happened to send somebody round from the office with some papers. I asked for time to read them. He said his instructions were, I was to sign them without delay – Jack needed them. I signed. You must remember, Trout.”

  “Do you?” Joshua asked.

  But Pauline didn’t answer immediately, watching Kevin, who had begun to weep into his handkerchief.

  “If you could bring yourself to testify,” he said, after he had paused to blow his nose, “it would be a considerable help. Jack thinks the world of you. It would rattle him if he thought you were going to take the stand against him.”

  “Can my children be of any help?” Joshua asked.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s do everything possible to save your skin.”

  “Look here, you don’t seem to grasp what’s at stake. I could go to prison. They could sentence me to as much as ten years.”

  “Your sort doesn’t do time,” Joshua said. “You’d be out on bail and the trial would drag on and on and, what with appeals and all, you’d be fifty before anything happened and by that time you’ll be living it up in Panama.”

  “I did not steal from my friends and I’m not running away again. I would like Trout to testify.”

  “How do I know that all that stuff with the papers to sign wasn’t a charade, staged for her benefit?”

  “Obviously, you don’t think
very much of me.”

  “If Pauline wants to testify, she will. That’s up to her. And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to her. I’ve got a plane to catch in an hour.”

  “Have a safe trip,” Kevin said and, hurrying into his coat, he was gone.

  “You didn’t behave well,” Pauline protested, distressed.

  Joshua poured himself another cognac.

  “I’ve never seen you so demented.”

  “He doctored his report cards. He cheated in bridge tournaments. He got somebody else to write his law school assignments for him. He used to come back here again and again telling everybody lies. He’s weak. He’s rotten.”

  “Yes, he’s weak, and yes, he may even be rotten. But he also happens to be my only brother. What am I supposed to do, Josh? Pack him off to prison with a kiss on the cheek?”

  “Jack put out for him and in return he’s been screwing his wife and skimming money out of Coral, and now that he’s been caught with his hand in the till he’s trying to dump on Jack just like he once did on what’s-his-name Isenberg.”

  “All the same, I don’t think he’d steal from Abbot and the others. He hasn’t got the brains or the courage.”

  “Well, you ought to know. He’s your brother.”

  “Yes, he is. And what, my darling, if he is also innocent?”

  “Or the world’s flat, after all?”

  “Can you hate him that much?”

  “We’d better call the kids in,” he said, taking her in his arms. “I’ve got to leave for the airport in half an hour.”

  “Yes,” she said, her head resting on his shoulder.

  “Do you want me to call your father?”

  “No thanks. I’ll handle it. Will you phone me from the airport?”

  “Certainly.”

  She waited for his call and then hurried into a taxi, getting out at the Ritz. She found Kevin seated at a corner table in the Maritime Bar.

  “I knew you’d come,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  She withdrew it immediately.

  “I’m not going to prison, Trout.”

  “Will you order me a drink, please.”

  He ordered her a glass of white wine.

  “That was unforgivable, Kevin, cornering me like that. You know damn well I never saw you sign any papers without reading them.”