Trader Jack -The Story of Jack Miner (The Story of Jack Miner Series) (38 page)

The roadshows with Cy had given me experience in marketing. So Leash told me to help Amanda Brockenspruit. We not only sold Aquarium to investors, but other LeashTrade funds as well. I found Amanda quite sexy. One evening in Paris, I made an advance. She enjoyed the attention, but wasn't interested. Amanda later told me that she lived in Camden Town with her partner Carol, an accountant.

A superb saleswoman, Amanda was almost as good as Cy. She got on with everyone, was full of fun and had a great sense of humour. The Aquarium fund now had more than $1 billion of investors' cash. Leash's entire fund management business managed more than $5 billion, compared with about $500 million, five years previously. The firm was making more than $100 million a year on annual management charges alone and another $200 million in performance fees. We were becoming seriously rich. I had learnt Leash's lesson. It takes as much time to manage a big amount of money, as a small sum, but the rewards are far greater. That was why he kept on driving us to push Aquarium and the other funds.

Trader Jack was the guy with the golden touch. The image attracted investors and girls. I wanted to contact old friends like the Slimcops and Gill Derby, but whenever I was about to phone or write a letter, something else came up. Stan and Leila would have been very pleased that I had given up coke and weed. I was into healthy eating and went to the gym.

*   *   *

October came and natural gas, which was as low as $2.50 a British Thermal Unit soon after 9/11, suddenly surged to almost $15. It gyrated, falling back to $11 and then recovered to $12. Crude oil, as low as $20 a barrel in the bear market, soared past $100 and moved swiftly to almost $150, before tumbling back to $120. Gold broke through $1,000 an ounce before retreating. Silver, platinum, copper, aluminium, zinc, nickel, wheat, sugar, cocoa and coffee also fluctuated wildly, rising when the US dollar sank and falling when it rallied. Energy and mining shares followed suit, playing a major role in causing global stock markets to rise and fall. Our attention was focused on the most exciting of all the markets, notably energy. Gas was fluctuating at prices 300 to 400 per cent above the levels it had been when we first entered the market. Aram traded in and out the market, piling up the gains. Whenever gas fell, it seemed to be supported by big buying.

Aram, Amanda and I had several meetings on whether we should take most of our money off the table. Aram, our energy expert, thought that there would be a final burst. The price would soar past the magical $15 round number and race to $20 or more, he predicted. Oil could reach $180 a barrel; possibly top $200! A gold price of $2,000 was also possible, he said. That would be the time to sell and bank serious money. Aram emphasised that in the past year we had had only two poor months. The percentage declines in those months were small, while profits of the other ten months were outstanding.

One day, early December, Amanda took me out for a drink. She was worried.

'Banque Discretione, our biggest investor, is taking profits,' she said. 'At the end of November they redeemed $200 million and have given us notice to take out their remaining $200 million at the end of December.'

'Have you spoken to Hal Humford, the chief investment officer?'

'He told me that it was the clients' decision. Discretione is still bullish on energy and commodities.'

'We'll have to sell some positions to pay them their money. I'll speak to Aram,' I said.

I also promised Amanda that I would contact Humford before I left for my Christmas holiday in Cape Town. Hopefully I could discourage him from withdrawing more money. Unfortunately I couldn't get hold of Humford. His London and Zurich offices said that he had gone skiing in Aspen, Colorado. He had given instructions that no one should contact him.

Despite Amanda's worries, Aram was relaxed. He told her that in January we would have a big presentation at a Florida hedge fund conference. Aram believed that oil and gas would reach new heights within weeks. Money would then pour into our fund. My charts indicated that it was very possible. My gold and coffee experiences showed that in the final phases of bull markets, prices rocketed. The crowd was following Aquarium. We and our investors would make pots of money.

*   *   *

A few days before the Christmas rush, I relaxed in my British Airways First Class seat, on my way to Cape Town. Maybe I would meet someone there. I shouldn't have messed up with Sandy. I kept thinking of Maffie, the gospel choir and her flowing white robe. Just over two years had passed, but it seemed much longer. I really missed Maffie. She was my best friend. I had to find her.

Mount Nelson, Cape Town's historic hotel, was a short walk from Table Mountain and I went halfway up to see the wonderful view. Ivor Ensworth was pleased to hear from me when I phoned him after the walk and he invited me to a Christmas barbeque. Ivor lived in a white washed bungalow with a small garden. It was in Rondebosch, a scenic suburb near the memorial of Cecil John Rhodes, who founded De Beers, the giant diamond company. It was almost four years since we were in Edinburgh. Ivor was now over eighty and looked frail. It was a small party. William, Ivor's tall tanned son, was busy 'braaiing' meat and chicken on the barbeque. His wife, Gail, was helping him.

'Tom, Tess! Jack's here,' yelled Ivor.

What a change! I had remembered them as children. Now they were teenagers, almost as old as I was when I first met them. They greeted me much more formally than I had expected and we shook hands.

A middle-aged man, about six foot two, with short grey hair and a ruddy face, rang the bell and entered. He was wearing a khaki shirt and shorts, as if he had just returned from the bush.

'Hello Fred. Great to see you. I've got a surprise,' shouted Ivor, calling me. 'Meet young Jack Miner.'

'Bill Miner's son? Well I never. Glad to meet you, Jack. I'm Fred Carrender. Your Dad was a great friend of mine. He saved my life.'

'I know, Mr Carrender. You've changed mine.'

'Call me Fred. Ivor told me how you've done. Remarkable! Maybe I should touch you for a loan!'

We laughed and sat down to eat. Fred regaled us with stories about him and Bill.

'I had no idea that my Dad was so wild,' I said cheerfully.

'Quite a ladies' man, your Dad. He even came prospecting with me once. I'm afraid we didn't find any gold and diamonds, but I made him jump when I found a dead scorpion and left it close to his pillow.'

I helped Gail clear the table. An old servant was washing the dishes. Gail looked embarrassed.

'I'm afraid my parents-in-law still live in the past. Apartheid's finished but the master-servant relationship remains,' she whispered.

'Jack, this is Thandi.'

I shook Thandi's hand, after she'd dried it.

'Thandi has worked for Ivor for thirty years,' said Gail. 'She's part of the family. You've looked after Ivor, since Helen died. Right Thandi?'

'We've both grown old together,' laughed Thandi.

'Have you heard of Themba Shaka Mafuta?' I asked. 'She's a family lawyer for the black community. She lives in a place called Knysna. Is it far from Cape Town?'

'You know Miss Mafuta?' shouted Thandi excitedly. 'She's very active in Khayelitsha township. Helps women when their husbands and boyfriends beat them up; when they do bad things to children. Miss Mafuta takes them to court.'

'Is she in Cape Town now?'

'I don't know, but I'm friendly with a woman who she's helping. When I see her I can pass on your message.'

'Please! I'll write a note. I must see her. She's a very good friend.'

'Have you visited Stan and Leila Slimcop?' asked Ivor.

'No. Could you tell me where they're staying?'

'In Fish Hoek, about an hour from here.'

'Have you apologised to them, Jack?'

'You know what I did?'

'Yes. You hurt them badly. Leila's getting worse. Stan's having a tough time, poor guy. He's now employing a carer.'

'I went to their home a year ago to apologise. A woman, who was looking after the house, said that she would tell them that I was sorry. I also wrote to them. They still haven't responded. Makes me feel really bad.'

'They've heard nothing.'

'You had better write another letter of apology to Stan now,' Ivor insisted. 'Phone him in a few days’ time.'

Afterwards, Gail took a photograph of all of us and put it in the envelope with the letter.

*   *   *

It was the first week of the New Year and she walked into the hotel foyer in a smart grey suit. Not the Maffie I knew. She was now fairly slim and had short, curly hair, African style. I rushed to hug her, but she withdrew. Instead she shook my hand in a cold, businesslike way. We ambled to a table on the patio and ordered some soft drinks and a light lunch.

'How's Ruff?' I asked.

'He's fine,' Maffie replied. 'He's in Knysna.'

'Say hello from me. I heard that you're back in law again.'

'Yes there's a group of us helping vulnerable women and children. Tourists visit the beautiful parts of the country, but few witness the poverty.'

She went on describing the new South Africa. Many blacks had advanced and had rapidly caught up with the whites. That was good. Unfortunately there was a very wide income differential between the wealthy black elite, the growing black middle class and the poor. The vast majority of blacks still lived in shanty towns, with primitive facilities and inadequate health, water and education. AIDS was a huge burden on the country. Unemployment was high and crime was rife. Abused women and children needed help.

'What about you, Jack? I've heard that you've made a lot of money. Won a hedge fund award. Become a fully-fledged member of the celebrity circus. Pictures in
OK!
magazine with models.'

'Who told you that?'

'Two people. Bess and I regularly email each other. She was here a few months ago, completing a PHD in sociology. She wrote a thesis on our legal foundation.'

'And the other?'

'Remember Issie McTavish of the
Wall Street Journal.
He was in Knysna during the Christmas holidays. We bumped into each other.'

'There's nothing accidental about McTavish, Maffie. You should know that!'

'Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, Issie got nothing from me. I told him that Ruff and I were no longer involved in the markets. Our money's invested conservatively. A major proportion finances the foundation. He was more interested in you, Jack.'

'Why me?'

'He told me that he tried to contact you several times, but you were always unavailable. He believes that you have caught the hedge fund manager disease. Too much money, self-indulgence and arrogance.'

'That's not quite true. I've been busy, Maffie. Really! Aquarium went past the billion mark. Leash Grobnick, my boss, pushes us. He gives us strict instructions not to talk to the press.'

'You had better speak to Issie when you get back, Jack. He's busy on an article on unusual trading activity in the oil and gas markets and alleged ramping of energy shares. He attended Africa Oil Week in Cape Town and sources there told him that American and British regulators have been investigating allegations of market manipulation and falsification of results. Some sources allege that with prices swinging up and down in unpredictable markets, your results are too good to be true. According to his information, Aquarium is under the spotlight and could be acting in concert with two or three other hedge funds.'

I was dumbfounded that the US Commodity Futures Trading Commission and the UK Financial Services Authority had suspected our fund and responded to the allegation angrily: 'Aquarium has bought a lot of oil, gas and other commodities, Maffie. We have also invested in energy and mining shares. I'm not denying that, but manipulation? No way!'

'You're aware that this commodity boom is causing untold misery for poverty-stricken people in Africa, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and some Latin American countries. Prices are so high that they can't afford to buy staples like wheat, maize and rice. It is now extremely costly for them to heat themselves in winter because of soaring energy prices. Doesn't that bother you?'

'Come off it Maffie. If we didn't do it, someone else would. It's a free market. You can't curb that,' I insisted. 'When you were a hedge fund manager, did you feel guilty?'

'That was then and I did feel guilty. That's why I got out and am now doing something useful. Come with me to some of the townships. Malnutrition. No water and electricity. Freezing cold in winter.'

'I donate to charities.'

'Really? You never struck me as being altruistic. Why have you been buying oil and gas, Jack?'

'Similar reasons to coffee, Maffie. Demand is well in excess of supply and prices are going up. Aram has good information.'

'Aram Zabkian? What's he got to do with it?'

'He's my partner, Maffie. We both manage Aquarium.'

She shook her head and laughed: 'Jack, you and Aram never got on. Why on earth are you partners?'

'We get on OK now, Maffie. It's a good arrangement. He's in charge of the portfolio and I spend most of my time marketing the fund.'

'You have nothing to do with the portfolio?'

'I discuss strategy with him and check the charts and prices. He runs the fund day-to-day. He knows what's going on in the market.'

'Have you heard rumours about market manipulation?'

'Sure, Maffie. But wasn't that the same with coffee? The price is rising and we're making money. We'll sell oil at more than $100, gas somewhere between $15 and $20 and the other stuff too. Nothing illegal about that.'

'What's been happening this week, Jack?'

'I have no idea. When I go on holiday, I cut myself off from the market. Aram's in charge. Aram's done well.'

'Oil and gas prices fell sharply yesterday and some more this morning. Oil's around $70 and gas $11. That's a long way from $100 and $15, Jack. I'm glad to say that grain prices are also falling. It will be a relief for poor people and the aid charities that buy them food.'