Princes of New York by Robin Lester

Author:Robin Lester
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Argo-Navis

Chapter 46

Bob Cattivo sat in his club’s library under gilded, coffered frescoes and studied an early survey of Hoboken architecture. He wanted to make the right historical reference to carry his building proposal beyond the city zoning committee. “Jobs over Aesthetics” would do it for those birds, but he’d have to come up with something lofty and historically grounded for the regional press to chew on.

Bob liked his club, but he didn’t love it. How could he? They let in people like him — Groucho was right. But there was a club he could love, one that was like the Knickerbocker, the Metropolitan, or the Union was, or wanted to be, back in 1900. How he would love to stride into that hall just off Park and sit at the long central table with the oldest, most powerful elite in the city. But he’d heard that “never a speculator” was the byword there. Obviously, they had forgotten that their forebears speculated to build the eighteenth century Manhattan family portfolios on Roosevelt real estate and Astor furs. And the only possible entree he had was the Bishop, who chaired the membership committee — someone he’d have to make peace with sooner or later. Meredith Ross’ banker husband Ned was also on the Bishop’s committee, but that was a long shot. And the last he’d heard from Ross, she’d set up shop temporarily in Shanghai to oversee her firm’s expansion. Her message said she wouldn’t be back until the fall board meeting.

Bob Cattivo felt high this afternoon. And without the alcohol, coke, and pills that had buoyed him for years, once he’d left his father and brother in the dust. In more ways than one — both those privileged SOBs were in their graves before his kids were born. Only Babs knew the story, if she even remembered after all these years.

He’d better get down to the bar to meet his “allies.” He could still remember his favorite reading in Western Civ at Whittier, actually, his only favorite reading. He’d instinctively known the main premise, “the end justifies the means,” but he’d had to digest more slowly Machiavelli’s relevant part for him just now: if you win, your allies will insist on sharing; if you lose, you will have created enemies who know you too well. Watch it, Bob.

As soon as his guests were fueled in the bar, Cattivo took command. “Gentlemen, I know you share my sadness at the death of CC’s great classics teacher, Dennis Warren.”

“Oh, great loss,” said Wither Bramston. “One of the Old School. Yale man.”

“Yes, yes,” said the Reverend Philips, “excellent Christian mission stock I heard. I knew him only by sight, but he was a fine fellow, one of the true originals—”

“Then, please,” Cattivo cut them off before they nominated Dennis to replace Judas as one of the Twelve, “you remember I did my best to buck him up last spring when he was under attack from the headmaster; I took him to dinner, grew to love him.

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