Trader Jack -The Story of Jack Miner (The Story of Jack Miner Series) (41 page)

It was a cold, misty, January day. Black corduroys, a thick black jumper and a dark blue ski jacket and gloves, suited my mood and the weather. We walked past the ponds up a hill towards a clump of trees near Kenwood. Then we turned left and ambled along a wide path that was parallel to the wood. No running this time. I was too sick and weak.

After walking about a quarter of a mile, we turned left again, down a sandy hill into the open and through another wood. In front of us was Parliament Hill. The nausea that had bugged me in the past two days had gone and I felt a lot better. We walked slowly, ever so slowly, to the top. The sky had turned dark grey and specs of snow floated onto my jacket. The gloomy mist was so thick that I could hardly see the City. The Barbican, the Gherkin, St Paul's and Canary Wharf were barely visible. It was now almost four years since I had first seen the City from this hill. Then it was a bright summer day of hopes and dreams

Now I was super rich, going super broke. The light winter sleet started again and we shuffled slowly down the hill to a café where other dog owners were sitting. Instead of joining them, I sat alone, sipped my coffee and picked at my breakfast.

*   *   *

The sleet stopped and the brighter light made me feel a bit better. We walked towards the bleak, reddish brown brick wall surrounding the Lido swimming pool. Memories again. I had my first swim there after my first deals. Today, payback time. I couldn't bear to imagine what was going to happen. I had checked Friday's closing New York prices on my laptop and they had slid further.

We continued our walk along a pathway around the southern tip of the heath, past a railtrack on the left and an obstacle course and children's playground on the right. I went over to watch the children playing. Despite the cold, parents and kids were having a good time.

A tall blonde, in a beige trench coat and brown suede boots, was with a little girl. The woman turned and my heart stopped. It was Maggie Humford. I shuffled around the playground observing them for about ten to twenty minutes, building up courage to go up to her. Finally I tied Jazz's lead to the fence and walked into the playground. Maggie pushed the child on a swing for a time, pulled her from the seat and led her to a slide. Slowly and nervously, I walked up and said softly: 'Hi Maggie, how are you?'

'Jack! What are you doing here?' she asked, turning around, startled.

'Walking my dog.'

The little girl slid down the slide, ran up to us and partially hid herself behind Maggie's legs.

'Hi, what's your name?' I asked.

'Jacqui,' she replied.

'How old are you Jacqui?'

The little girl was silent.

'She's three in May.'

Her thick black hair and blue eyes jolted my memory, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was.

'She's cute,' I said.

Maggie smiled and Jacqui ran off to a climbing frame with us following. I was puzzled, remembering what had happened at the Crieff Hydro in Scotland. Hal Humford was drunk and had complained that Maggie couldn't have children. Perhaps they had adopted Jacqui. On the other hand, she looked a bit like Maggie.

'How's Hal?' I asked.

'We've split. I'm getting a divorce,' she whispered. 'Jacqui and I are leaving for Boston tomorrow evening. We'll stay with my parents for a while.'

I was surprised: 'I'm sorry . . . What about Jacqui? Doesn't she want to be with Hal? Doesn't he want to see her?'

'Of course! He's crazy about her. He'll have to come to Boston.'

'Where's Hal?'

'He's in Mayfair. He moved into his bank's apartment. He's coming to visit tomorrow, before we go to the airport.'

Maggie went up to Jacqui and helped her climb to the top of the climbing frame. Then it came back to me. Jacqui reminded me of some photographs of my mother as a child. I wished I had a photo on me to confirm it, but they were at home. Yes, Jacqui did look a bit like Maggie, but Maggie was blonde and fair skinned. The child's hair was black. The light blue eyes, small mouth and delicate nose; very similar to those pictures of Mum.

Jacqui climbed down and ran towards a little boy who was alone on a see-saw. She jumped on to the other side.

'Your daughter's lovely. Is she . . .?'

'Adopted? No!'

Silence for a while. Maggie, wary, turned away from me. Seemed to want to get away. She went towards Jacqui, as if she wanted to protect her. I wasn't going to let go. Had to know regardless.

'Jacqui's your own child? But in Crieff, Hal said . . .'

'That I couldn't have children. I also thought so. But it isn't me, it's him!' she suddenly exclaimed with a bitter laugh. 'All our problems, the trauma. Him not me.'

'Whatever, she's yours. That's wonderful!'

I watched Jacqui on the see-saw, up, down, up again. Laughing with the little boy. His mother close by, making sure that they didn't fall. Maggie was less fearful, helping Jacqui become more independent. The surface of the playground was rubber and the see-saw wasn't very high. It was quite safe. I made a simple calculation on my fingers. If Jacqui was turning three in May, she was conceived in August when Maggie and I were in Scotland. Maggie noticed me counting my fingers.

'The loch, the willow tree?' I blurted out.

'Yes Jack, you, but she's mine,' confessed Maggie, at last.

My feelings were a mixture of wonder, relief, joy and pain that this was the very first time that I knew I was a father and had never seen Jacqui as a baby.

Maggie noticed and said firmly with a determined smile: 'Hal's her father.'

I could see why I had once fallen in love with Maggie. She was beautiful. I wanted to rush over to Jacqui, hug her and hold her high above my head. I stared at Jacqui mesmerised. Her eyes, my Mum's eyes. Jacqui was my daughter, my own daughter. I couldn't believe it! Maggie came up to me and held Jacqui's hand.

'Time to go, Jack. Say goodbye, Jacqui.'

'Can't I take you to the nice cake shop in South End Green? It's not far from here,' I pleaded.

'No thanks, we have to get going,' said Maggie.

'Please Mummy, I want some cake,' shouted Jacqui excitedly.

*   *   *

The mid-January winter light was fading fast when we left the café in South End Green. Jacqui had a lovely time there and for the first time in days, I felt happy. Maggie, however was tense. Jacqui wanted me to go to their house to see her new rocking horse. Maggie had reservations, but she agreed at last.

'OK Jacqui, but Jack and Jazz will only stay for a short time,' she said firmly.

It was a short walk to Maggie's home in Parliament Hill Fields. The large terraced Edwardian house was only a couple of hundred yards away from the cafe. Jacqui helped me pull in Jazz and she proudly showed me her dolls and horse which were in the living room. I read her a story while Maggie cooked her some pasta. Jacqui stroked Jazz and he wagged his tail happily. After she went to bed, Maggie gave me some French bread and cheese in the kitchen and Jazz some scraps.

'You mustn't let her know who you are, Jack,' Maggie said softly. 'Hal's her father. They are mad about each other.'

I looked around the living room and saw the suitcases.

'But you've split. You're going to America. How often will she see Hal?'

'I don't know. We'll be with my parents. She'll have a family.'

'Can I keep in contact? Maybe I can be her godfather?'

'Not a good idea. Hal and I split because of you. It just got worse and worse.'

'Because of me? Why?'

'When I fell pregnant, we were amazed,' explained Maggie. 'We had tried for years. Fertility treatment, again and again. Nothing worked. Then it suddenly happened.'

'Didn't he think that it was him?'

'He knew that it was impossible. We hadn't made love for three months. The IVF treatment had become such a routine that it put us off sex. We also weren't getting on that well.'

'So what did you tell him?'

'Hal forced it out of me. I told him about our fling by the loch.'

'Surely you told him that it happened by chance? That it wasn't serious.'

'Of course, but Hal is jealous, very jealous' she replied. 'He resented me right through the pregnancy. Then, when Jacqui was born, he was mad about the baby.'

'If you didn't want to antagonise Hal, why did you call her Jacqui? After me?'

'Hal chose the name.'

'Really?'

'He wanted me to feel guilty. Remind me what I had done. He changed. Gave the child everything. All his love. Continued to resent me. We argued constantly. Hal would tail me sometimes. Thought that you and I were having an affair, or I was sleeping with someone else. He didn't believe me. Except for you, Jack, I have always been faithful.'

'I can't understand it. When I met him in Zurich, he didn't seem to remember me.'

'Oh yes he did Jack! Once when I was cleaning his study, I found a file with newspaper articles about you. How you made a fortune in the coffee market. Of course he remembered you. We had lots of arguments and it would always come back to you. He was obsessed. I think it was more than jealousy. As crazy as it seems, I think you undermined his manhood.'

'But I came across him several times and he seemed relaxed with me. His bank was the biggest investor in our fund.'

'He never told me that . . . You said "was".' 'They pulled out in December. He's given us a bad headache.'

'That was revenge, Jack. Revenge!'

'It doesn't make sense. Why get involved with me?'

'He hates you Jack. I can't tell you how much he hates you. Our arguments became violent and he tried to throttle me twice. That's why I decided to leave.'

I couldn't help myself and put my arm around Maggie. She was first tense and then relaxed. She seemed to need the comfort, allowed me to hug her softly and kiss her gently. It was late afternoon, but it was already dark, so she took me up to her bedroom. Instead of making love, we just cuddled. I was so exhausted from the trauma of the past few days that I fell asleep. Something woke me up. It was Jacqui who came in and snuggled up to Maggie on her side of the bed. She was soon sleeping, her thumb in her mouth.

I lay there looking into the darkness and began to think of Hal Humford. I had to see him and find out what was happening. The chances were that I was going down. He had to help me put the pieces together. If he wouldn't tell me, I would threaten him. Bring him down with me.

Maggie had told me that Hal was living in the flat above Banque Discretione's London branch, Mayfair. I slowly got out of the bed and without disturbing them, quietly picked up my clothes and sneaked down the stairs. Jazz and I were soon out of the house. It seemed very late in the winter darkness, but it was only 7pm. I found a taxi driver who was prepared to take the dog. There was hardly any traffic and we were soon in the West End.

22 - CONSEQUENCES

Banque Discretione was near the American Embassy in Grosvenor Square, but I wasn't sure of the address. I asked the cab to drop me off at Claridge's, one of the luxury hotels where we had given presentations to investors. The concierge found the address and I gave him a pound. No more fivers. I had to economise.

It began to drizzle again and I ran a few hundred metres from Claridge's to Grosvenor Street. The bank was in a discreet, nondescript building. I rang the bell several times. Eventually the security guard answered.

'Is Mr Humford in?' I asked.

'Do you have an appointment?' replied the burly security guard, who had a thick East European accent. I shook my head, but insisted that Humford knew me. He phoned Hal and let me in with the dog.

Hal's flat was directly opposite the lift on the first floor. I was shocked when he opened the door. Hal had always been immaculate. Not so this time. He was unshaven in a white shirt that had a large yellow stain. He smelt of whisky, his trousers were dirty and his fly was open.

'Hello Jack Miner, long time no see,' he slurred, staggering back to a large leather chair in the spacious living room. On a table next to it, was a glass of whisky. The bottle was almost empty.

'Wanna drink?'

'No thanks. I need some questions answered,' I said, walking across the room. It had ceiling to floor curtains right across the windows. I pulled one of the curtains and peered outside. The flat had a balcony and nearby there were some bare trees. No one was outside. The street, in eerie, misty, yellow lamplight, was empty.

I asked Hal for a glass of sparkling water. He staggered to the kitchen, returned with a small bottle and gave it to me. His eyes were red. It wasn't only the booze. It looked as if he had been crying. Once again he slumped into the chair, his back facing the curtains.

'What are you going to do about Jacqui when she's in the States?' I asked.

'How did you find out about Jacqueline?' he growled, glaring at me.

'I saw Maggie with her in the playground today. Found out that I'm Jacqui's father.'

'I'm her father, not you. I've done everything for her since she was a tiny baby. I love my daughter. You have no claim whatsoever.'

'Maggie's left you. They're going to live in America. It's Maggie's decision, not yours,' I snapped.

Humford pulled himself out of the chair and tried to be as threatening as possible. Jazz began to bark viciously. I held back the dog and changed the subject.

'Maggie told me that you couldn't stand me. Why did you invest in our fund?'

'Take your dog away. I can't talk with all that barking.'

I pulled Jazz's lead and put him in the bedroom. Two open suitcases, filled with clothes, were on the bed. I closed the door and went back to my chair and sat directly in front of him.

'Going somewhere?' I asked aggressively as I faced him eye to eye.

'They could get me.'

'Who are they? Did they kill Aram Zabkian?'

Hal's face froze when I mentioned Aram. He tried to get up, but I pushed him down. His hands were shaking.

'Now I'm certain. Unless I get away, they'll kill me too.'

'Why Aram? What did he do to them?'