The Hedge Fund: Where Blood Meets Money (The Landau Trilogy Book 1) by Burton Hersh

Author:Burton Hersh [Hersh, Burton]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tree Farm Books
Published: 2017-05-04T22:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Flying back here,” I had to concede to Dad,” I felt like the guy who had just lit the fuse.” I remembered that Dad held early evening office hours on Thursday. Fortunately, the one graduate student who showed up had just left.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Just what they give you on the planes.”

“Nothing. Worse than nothing. Should we go out?”

“Maybe later on. I just realized I’d better get back and leave word at Humper, Fardel not to run any correspondence through our office. Buckley. I just wanted you to hear right away how everything went with Stokes.”

“Ethan Stokes! He is definitely the hound you want to turn loose in a situation like this. But on the personal level? Ecked mir a liberal!”

“He’s high on you. He thinks you’re Jackie Mason all over again.”

“Exactly. What’s that old saw, a kike is a Jewish gentleman who has just left the room?”

“I think he meant that with a certain affection,” I said.

“That’s part of the problem. Just stay away from his sister. Besides which, I always thought he had his eye on your mother.”

“You can stop worrying. Right now his arthritis is so bad he probably couldn’t climb into bed.”

As a precaution, Sonny and I had agreed to avoid communicating with each other for a day or so but to meet the following evening in a folk and jazz bar over by the Gulf, The Sloppy Pelican. The handful of Native Americans around town had a way of congregating here; it was a blue-jeans and tank-top crowd, lots of hair and tattoos. Blouses tended to be extremely low-cut. By nine or ten, if one of the chubby young salesgirls or recent college dropouts drinking nearby noticed you noticing her too much, she was liable to pull one breast out and aim the nipple at you. This was not entirely a friendly gesture.

Our table was on a sort of deck that adjoined the bandstand. When the little group performing that night got going the amplifiers made our table vibrate.

“I think I’ve been here once before,” I commented to Sonny just as my Heinekens and his Diet Coke appeared. “Noisy!”

“Better that way. Keeps us from being bugged.”

“Always one step ahead. Flights went off OK?”

“Easy enough. You see me on the flight going up?”

“Couldn’t miss you. The wink was gratuitous,”

“Whatever that means.”

“That beard! It’s becoming a health hazard. How about you get it dry cleaned and put that on the tab?” But I had gone too far; Sonny tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. “OK,” I said, “I retract that, just yanking your chain a little.”

“Don’t yank,” Sonny said. “We got too much to do.”

Just as we arranged, Sonny had been on my flight to Philadelphia and tracked me into the terminal. “Not that you made it easy,” Sonny reprimanded me. “I saw you bolting for the taxis after we landed.”

“Force of habit. It hit me just in time to turn around and try for the light rail. I spotted that mob, and naturally I remembered that that was what you wanted.

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