It was a typical small conference room, intended for use by less than a half dozen people. The conference table was ovoid, rather than rectangular. The chairs were more comfortable than those which were usually found in a conference room. The room was basically designed so that the principals involved in negotiation, could be close or distant as fitted the situation.
After the secretary had led Dexter into the room, she offered to get him coffee, tea, or a soda. Dexter went with the coffee and she disappeared. After a minute, she returned with a silver tray containing a small carafe of coffee, and real china coffee cups. She fussed around while preparing a cup of coffee. He could tell it was one of those rich 'dark roast' coffees that always tasted burnt, to him.
Sipping the coffee, Dexter sat back to study the room. The decor was understated. It spoke of money without boasting. The artwork hanging on the walls, basic meaningless abstracts, were originals, but not by any particularly famous artists. They gave color without a subject. Dexter studied the paintings thinking they accurately reflected the times: a presence without meaning or depth.
Rather than give him confidence that his money would be well managed, the room made him uneasy. It was as though everything was facade and not real. He would have preferred a room that looked as if people actually worked in it. He wanted the image of men with shirt sleeves rolled up, while they read financial reports. Instead, he had the image of pretenders in suits, talking good stories.
He wondered how long he would have to wait for his financial advisor to arrive. It seemed to him that having him wait was a calculated ploy to make him feel that his financial advisor was an important and busy person. He hoped that he wouldn't get too tired out by this meeting; but he had to take care of his money, now, before the IRS got it all.
A man about Dexter's age entered the room in a negligent shuffle.
His shirt was wrinkled with a couple of brownish stains on the front. It was little large for his body. Actually, it fit around the waist, but was large at the shoulders and long at the arms. He exhaled loudly when he sat down in one of the seats at the table.
"I'm Charlie Crause. I apologize for being late. I had an accident with a soda. It exploded when I opened it."
"No problem," Dexter said.
"So you're the famous Dexter," Charlie said.
"I guess so."
Charlie said, "Mark told me a little about you, when he set up this meeting. He said you're a plain spoken person."
"I don't know about that. I never really gave it much thought," Dexter said.
He hadn't ever thought about how someone might describe him to others.
"He also said that you're sharp as a tack," Charlie said.
"I wouldn't say that. Of course, I tend to remember my moments of stupidity longer than my moments of brilliance, if only because there are more of the former than the latter," Dexter said.
Charlie laughed and said, "That's true for more people than would like to admit it."
"I guess," Dexter said.
"While we're waiting for Mary to bring in your paperwork, let me tell you a little about myself," Charlie said.
"That's fine."
Charlie leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table with his hands clasped in front of him.
"I'm a graduate of a no name school, with a degree in business. As one of my professors once told me, you can get a first rate education in a third rate school. It isn't the school that matters, it is the student. I took that message to heart. I worked my ass off in school, did very well, and then got a job with a Wall Street brokerage firm.
"After a couple of years on the job, I became the manager of a large investment fund. It was one of the highest rated funds on the market while I was managing it. The hours were horrible, the work miserable, and the pay obscenely high. Despite the money, I hated every minute of it.
"After suffering through fifteen years in that hell hole, I left and joined this firm. I like managing money. I like knowing the customer. I enjoy spending an hour shooting the shit with someone, and getting to know them. I prefer to do that, over having to deal with some faceless mob ... particularly a mob that is only interested in instantaneous results.
"I have three research assistants who study investment opportunities. They are all graduates of no name schools. Each of them is very good at what he or she does. I'd rather hire someone who is good, than some affordable idiot who graduated from a big name school. Let's face it. Those big name schools have produced some pretty thick-headed people.
"I have a simple investment strategy. I look for companies headed by competent, smart, forward looking and ethical people. I believe that folks like that will make better business decisions. They will look at the future as it is, and not follow some 'fashion trend' in the business world. Fast money comes and goes. Serious money is in it for the long haul. Bankers, who make sound loans, don't have to worry about getting their money back. Manufacturers, who maintain quality and produce a superior product, will thrive in good times and survive the bad times.
"Not one of the companies in which I've invested was affected by your little website. In a perverse way, I take some little pride in that. It tells me that my strategy is the correct one. My accounts made money while everyone else lost, big time.
"When other people learn about how much money you have, there will be snake oil salesmen, flim-flam artists, and outright thieves trying to get their hands on it. Relatives you have never met will appear from the woodwork wanting a share of your money. It happens ... believe me, it happens a lot.
"I'll do my best to steer you away from those kinds of situations. Of course, you can always insist on making an investment in whatever scheme grabs your fancy. It is your money after all. My point is that it's not in my best interests, to watch your money disappear through bad investment. I earn my money as a percentage of the net gains of your wealth, over a year long period. I do not earn a commission on each transaction.
"Are there any questions so far?"
Dexter answered, "None so far."
Charlie said, "With this much money at stake, trust is probably the most important element that has to exist between the two of us. I'm not going to tell you to trust me. If you want, you can hire a private detective and have me investigated. I have no problems with that. You can ask others in the industry about me. I have no problem with that. My life is an open book.
"I'll also have to trust you to make wise decisions. I'll present investment opportunities to you. I'll expect you to listen and to consider them carefully. You should do your own investigation. I need you to feel free to ask any questions you wish. We are a partnership in this endeavor. I can't do my job without some guidance from you.
"Any questions?"
Dexter said, "You mentioned that I would have to do my own investigation. What exactly do you mean by that?"
Charlie answered, saying, "Let's take a simple example. Suppose that I suggest that we buy stocks in gold related industries. I will give you a reasoned brief on why I think it is a good investment. For example, it is announced that the Chinese government is planning to open the gold market for Chinese citizens and I believe that will lead to an increased demand for gold. Businesses that produce gold will increase in value.
"You should check that the Chinese government is actually planning to do that. You should try to estimate for yourself what happens when a billion people start buying gold. Then you'll need to consider whether buying gold or stocks in companies that produce gold represents a better investment. You need to satisfy yourself that what I'm suggesting is reasonable."
"I can see that," Dexter said. "A simple search on the internet will probably net a dozen articles giving pros and cons to that suggestion."
Dexter knew that he would probably do that anyway. He wasn't all that comfortable with dealing with that much money. The last thing he wanted was to have it stolen from him. There was no way that he'd blindly accept recommendations without giving them significant thought.
"Exactly," Charlie said. "You see, I don't want you coming back to me when something doesn't turn out as I predicted, with the accusation that I misled you. The decision to make an investment is yours, not mine. I suggest, you decide."
"I can agree to that," Dexter said.
Charlie shifted nervously in his seat for a second. "There is one little problem."
"What's that?" Dexter asked.
Charlie answered, "One of my research assistants recently got into trouble with the law. She was arrested two weeks ago for assault. The legal process has just begun and there's no telling how it will turn out. It is kind of an ethical dilemma for me. I won't fire her until after the matter has been resolved one way or another. On the other hand, I am not willing to give her access to confidential customer information. As a result, I'm using her for basic background research, and as an office 'gofer'."
"Why are you telling me this?" Dexter said.
Charlie said, "I want to be forthright in my dealings. How would you feel if you were to learn from another source, that one of my employees was in trouble with the law?"
"I'd be suspicious," Dexter said.
"As I said, trust is extremely important. I won't hide things just because they may give you a negative impression of me. In the long run, hiding things doesn't work," Charlie said.
Dexter said, "I can respect that."
Charlie looked at his watch. Irritated, he said, "Where is that woman?"
Dexter knew it was a rhetorical question. Charlie picked up the telephone and dialed the receptionist.
When she answered, he said, "Denise, tell Mary to get her ass in here, now, with the paperwork I asked her to bring. Also tell her to bring a real coffee cup. You know I hate drinking coffee out of those damned little tea cups."
He didn't wait for Denise to answer. He hung up the phone.
"While we're waiting for Mary, let me answer any questions that you might have."
"I don't know if you are aware of how I got my money, but it was from a settlement with a former employer," Dexter said.
Charlie said, "Mark explained that to me when he set up this appointment. He also told me about the steps that you've already taken with regards to the money – setting aside some money for the kids and sharing the remainder with your estranged wife. He's working with me and my tax attorney, to establish a good investment for the money you've given the children. You should know that he's dealing with me in his role as your lawyer. You should have the full proposal from him in a week."
"I would like to shelter as much of my settlement money from taxes as possible. What does that involve?" Dexter asked.
Charlie pursed his lips, exhaled and said, "That's not an easy question to answer. We'll spend a whole day on that subject, when you're up to it. The fact is that tax law in this country is the most convoluted, messed up, irrational body of law in the history of mankind. A lot of the laws are designed to protect the wealth of people with a lot more money than you have. Is there some loophole that you might fit through? Possibly, but I doubt it. You're liable to have to pay twenty-eight percent on your share of the settlement."
"I didn't want to hear that," Dexter said.
The receptionist came in and handed Charlie a piece of paper. He glanced at it, frowned, and then read it again.
"Oh, shit. This is embarrassing."
"What should I tell her?" the receptionist asked.
"Send her in here," Charlie said with a sigh. "Tell her to bring the papers, and a real cup. I hate these little tea cups,"
"Yes, Sir," the receptionist said.
Charlie turned to Dexter with a sheepish expression on his face.
"It seems that you already know Mary."
Dexter had a bad feeling about this situation. The woman who lived above Dexter stepped into the office. She was doing her best to look anywhere except at him.
"You!"
"Yes," Mary replied weakly.
"You maced me," Dexter said.
Mary kept glancing at him and then looking away nervously. "I was sure ... I thought ... I was afraid that ... well ... that you were going to rape me."
"I didn't even know you were anywhere around me! I had just stepped out of my apartment," Dexter said in protest.
"What was I supposed to think after you harassed me the previous night?" Mary asked.
"I said 'hello' to you," Dexter said.
"A strange man lurking in the shadows, is very threatening," Mary said.
"I was sitting in a chair, on the front patio of my apartment," Dexter said.
Charlie was rubbing his forehead, trying to stave off a headache. It had been bad enough when he had learned one of his employees had been arrested for assault. It was a disaster to discover that it involved a possible client. They had never covered this in any of his business classes!
"Mary, I suggest that you hand me the paperwork and my coffee cup, and then leave," Charlie said.
He wondered if he even needed the papers inside the folder. He couldn't see Dexter signing a contract with a firm that employed the person who had maced him. There wasn't much doubt about Mary's guilt in the matter. She had admitted to macing him.
"Here are the papers," Mary said holding out the folder.
"Where's my coffee cup?" Charlie asked taking the folder from her.
Crimson faced, Mary answered, "I ... uh ... dropped it."
"Find me a real cup, please," Charlie said demonstrating far more patience than he felt.
"Yes, Sir," Mary said and fled from the room.
"Oh, boy," Dexter and Charlie said simultaneously.
"I didn't know until I got the note," Charlie said. "I figured there had to be a mistake."
"She needs help," Dexter said.
Charlie poured some coffee into one of the small cups.
Holding up the carafe, he asked, "Would you like some more coffee?"
"Sure," Dexter said holding out his cup.
Charlie filled the cup. He set the carafe down and grabbed his cup. He drank the little cup of coffee in two sips.
Disgusted, he said, "They do this to me every time I have a new client, here. They put me in this pretentious room, and bring out the china. Little old ladies sip tea out of china cups."
"Let me see your office," Dexter said.
"Why?"
Dexter said, "I want to see where you really work."
"Why?"
"How else am I to get your measure? There's nothing in this room that reflects the real you, except for you. People can easily hide their real character for an hour. When you see where they live, or work, then you know a lot more about them," Dexter said.
"It's a mess," Charlie said, while rising from his chair. "You can see it if you want."
Dexter followed Charlie down the hallway. The office looked like a minor tornado had blown through. There were stacks of folders on nearly every surface. A sport coat had been tossed over one chair. There was a wet spot on the coat, which was probably due to the accident with a soda can that Charlie had mentioned.
"Where's that thing you're working on for my kids?" Dexter asked.
Charlie reached over and picked up a couple of folders. He held them out. "I've got some options laid out here and a draft of a contract from your lawyer."
"You knew right where they were," Dexter said.
Charlie pointed to a table on which there were a dozen stacks of folders. "I know where everything is in this room. Right there is an investment proposal for one of my clients. The three stacks of papers next to it contain background materials used in putting together the proposal. Those six stacks on the other side contain opportunities that I rejected for one reason or another."
"Impressive," Dexter said. "Let's sign the paperwork."
"You're kidding?" Charlie asked.
Tapping his forehead, Dexter said, "You're organized up here, where it counts. Your brain ... that's what I'm hiring."
"What about Mary? Doesn't that influence your decision?"
"She needs professional help. You said before that you'd only use her for background research. Until her situation gets resolved, she's not an issue ... as long as she doesn't touch anything of mine," Dexter said.
"I like the way you think," Charlie said.
Dexter said, "You will see that she gets help?"
"I'll do what I can," Charlie said with another sigh.
Edited By TeNderLoin