I walked back through the floor, again trying to digest the spectacle. This was undoubtedly the most comprehensive operation I'd ever witnessed. What in hell did all this analysis of industrial sectors have to do with currency hedging?
Not a lot of time to reflect on the question, however, since I was summarily being ushered toward the steel security doors by one of Tanaka's flunkies, a young tough who seemed to speak no English, but who could strong-arm very eloquently.
In moments I was outside, facing the bank of elevators. That was when I remembered the upstairs tenant, a big public relations outfit. Better take a couple of minutes and give them the word.
Rausch, McKinley, and Stein were in the middle of proving conclusively that our mayor knew nothing about contract kickbacks, that he was in fact the closest equivalent New York had to driven snow. His Honor, in the meantime, was hastily returning the campaign contributions of all the real estate executives who, flanked by their lawyers, were now being featured on the front page of the Daily News.
Since RM&S had their hands full and also had expected an automatic renewal of their lease, there weren't too many politic smiles when I broke the news. Fact is, it was a very unpleasant scene. Finally I called for their lease and showed them the rider. They'd signed the damn thing, not me.
"Sorry, fellows, all I can do is maybe drag this out a little for you, mislay the paperwork or something. Have one of your attorneys give me a call, off the record. But I'd also advise you to start looking for space."
Then I headed downtown, a man with a mission.
Dai Nippon had to be getting ready to kick hell out of something or somebody. Trouble was, I had no idea who or what. But I'd had plenty of hints it wasn't going to do great things for the dollar. I briefly toyed with alerting Jack O'Donnell and telling him to leak some anonymous storm signals. But what storm? He wouldn't put his senate reputation on the line to peddle guesswork, and all I had to offer was— what?—circumstantial premonitions.
Where to begin? Henderson was in London and unreachable, meaning there was no chance of getting him and his less reputable Washington connections to start shouting "fire" from the rooftops. That left the press. Right. What I needed was the media. Think. Somebody who, if the whole thing proved to be smoke and mirrors, could shrug it off; but, a comer who would be intrigued by the possible broadcasting coup of the century. It had to be somebody with ready-made exposure, yet a personality with little to lose and a lot to gain. That brought to mind the perfect candidate, a former, well, acquaintance.
When I got home, I went straight to the office upstairs, looked up a number I hadn't used in a long time, and dialed it. It felt very familiar.