announcement. He has told you that, hasn’t he? And the details, too.”
“It’s not the details that bother me,” said McCourt. “It’s the chaos. What’s going on? How come Warren is calling the papers?”
“So that’s the way you would print it? That we don’t know what we’re doing?” said Blaine.
“Well,” said McCourt. “How would you put it?”
He picked up his notebook.
“You’re missing what is happening,” said Blaine. “I know precisely what I’m doing. Have you ever known me to make a mistake about a thing like this?”
McCourt shrugged. He glanced at Warren. “What’s gotten into you people?”
“I told you,” said Blaine. “Nothing. I know precisely what we are doing. Warren here is overwrought.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say?” said McCourt.
“No,” said Blaine. “Obviously you want some proof. Isn’t that right?”
“Well, yeah,” said McCourt.
“And if I give you some, will you forget this”—Blaine looked at Warren—“unfortunate display? There is no need to start a panic. Surely you can see that if you ran a story that said we were in disarray, why . . . ”
“What’s the proof?” said McCourt.
“Your word,” said Blaine. “That you will forget this.”
The reporter looked around.
“All right,” he said. “What’s the proof?”
“I will pick three indices,” said Blaine. “Markets, stock prices, futures. I will tell you what they will be for the next three days, give or take a half-percent. If they are what I say, you will forget this. In fact, if I were you, I’d try to come up with some money to take advantage of what I tell you.”
“No kidding?” said McCourt.
“No kidding,” said Blaine.
“Okay,” said McCourt, “you’ve got yourself a deal. What are they going to be?”
Blaine told him.
“Well, well,” said McCourt. “And what’s with him?”
He made a gesture to Warren.
“As I said, he’s overwrought,” said Blaine. “That’s all. It happens to everyone from time to time.”
Blaine smiled. Then he sat back and put the tips of his fingers together and thought,
Is he going for it?
“Okay,” said McCourt. “If the markets aren’t the way you say, you’ll be hearing from me.”
“I expect we will never speak again,” said Blaine. He stood up. “Good night, Mr. McCourt.”
They walked to the door, and the reporter went out into the hall, which stretched away like a nightmare, the doors regularly spaced and diminishing in size, the hall getting smaller and smaller as it stretched into the distance. Blaine closed the door and turned back to the room.
“Do you know what you have done?” said Blaine.
“I was just worried,” said Warren.
“Worried,” said Blaine. “Worried?”
He closed his eyes.
“Maybe I can get on the phone to the other members of the board,” said Warren.
“The decision has been made,” said Blaine. “But that is not the issue here. The issue is what you have done to me. There is a good chance McCourt will never think that I am in charge. Ever. He will talk to other people, and the next time a hard decision is made, they won’t believe me. They will start calling members of the board. Panic is built into such an arrangement.”
Warren looked up at him.
“I hadn’t thought . . . ” he said.
“No,” said Blaine.
“I’m sorry,” said Warren. “I really am. My God, what have I done?”
Blaine stood there, seeing the gray walls as they seemed to throb.
“But,” said Warren, “the way you handled it made it all right. That was pretty good.”
“You think
I knew?”
said Blaine. “I was guessing. And what happens if I made the wrong guess? I don’t know what those numbers are going to be any more than anyone else.
I guessed.”
“Oh,” said Warren. “Well.”
“Go home,” said Blaine. “Keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?”
Warren nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “I can do that.”
Blaine went out the door and into the hall. In the
“It’s not the details that bother me,” said McCourt. “It’s the chaos. What’s going on? How come Warren is calling the papers?”
“So that’s the way you would print it? That we don’t know what we’re doing?” said Blaine.
“Well,” said McCourt. “How would you put it?”
He picked up his notebook.
“You’re missing what is happening,” said Blaine. “I know precisely what I’m doing. Have you ever known me to make a mistake about a thing like this?”
McCourt shrugged. He glanced at Warren. “What’s gotten into you people?”
“I told you,” said Blaine. “Nothing. I know precisely what we are doing. Warren here is overwrought.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say?” said McCourt.
“No,” said Blaine. “Obviously you want some proof. Isn’t that right?”
“Well, yeah,” said McCourt.
“And if I give you some, will you forget this”—Blaine looked at Warren—“unfortunate display? There is no need to start a panic. Surely you can see that if you ran a story that said we were in disarray, why . . . ”
“What’s the proof?” said McCourt.
“Your word,” said Blaine. “That you will forget this.”
The reporter looked around.
“All right,” he said. “What’s the proof?”
“I will pick three indices,” said Blaine. “Markets, stock prices, futures. I will tell you what they will be for the next three days, give or take a half-percent. If they are what I say, you will forget this. In fact, if I were you, I’d try to come up with some money to take advantage of what I tell you.”
“No kidding?” said McCourt.
“No kidding,” said Blaine.
“Okay,” said McCourt, “you’ve got yourself a deal. What are they going to be?”
Blaine told him.
“Well, well,” said McCourt. “And what’s with him?”
He made a gesture to Warren.
“As I said, he’s overwrought,” said Blaine. “That’s all. It happens to everyone from time to time.”
Blaine smiled. Then he sat back and put the tips of his fingers together and thought,
Is he going for it?
“Okay,” said McCourt. “If the markets aren’t the way you say, you’ll be hearing from me.”
“I expect we will never speak again,” said Blaine. He stood up. “Good night, Mr. McCourt.”
They walked to the door, and the reporter went out into the hall, which stretched away like a nightmare, the doors regularly spaced and diminishing in size, the hall getting smaller and smaller as it stretched into the distance. Blaine closed the door and turned back to the room.
“Do you know what you have done?” said Blaine.
“I was just worried,” said Warren.
“Worried,” said Blaine. “Worried?”
He closed his eyes.
“Maybe I can get on the phone to the other members of the board,” said Warren.
“The decision has been made,” said Blaine. “But that is not the issue here. The issue is what you have done to me. There is a good chance McCourt will never think that I am in charge. Ever. He will talk to other people, and the next time a hard decision is made, they won’t believe me. They will start calling members of the board. Panic is built into such an arrangement.”
Warren looked up at him.
“I hadn’t thought . . . ” he said.
“No,” said Blaine.
“I’m sorry,” said Warren. “I really am. My God, what have I done?”
Blaine stood there, seeing the gray walls as they seemed to throb.
“But,” said Warren, “the way you handled it made it all right. That was pretty good.”
“You think
I knew?”
said Blaine. “I was guessing. And what happens if I made the wrong guess? I don’t know what those numbers are going to be any more than anyone else.
I guessed.”
“Oh,” said Warren. “Well.”
“Go home,” said Blaine. “Keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?”
Warren nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “I can do that.”
Blaine went out the door and into the hall. In the
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