"Two messengers just arrived with shipments."
"I will be right out," Chiun said.
He stood up. "Come, Remo. I will show you how to run a business. Someday Nostrum may be yours."
"This ought to be good," Remo said, following him out through the busy workroom, where suddenly every worker sat up straight and began talking in a loud voice about how comfortable the floor was, and into the reception area-such as it was.
A pair of uniformed armored-car messengers stood there, arms resting on hand trucks stacked with wooden crates. They were breathing hard. One of them rubbed a sweaty brow with a green bandanna. Chiun drifted up to the two, his arms tucked into his kimono sleeves, saying "I am Chiun, chief of Nostrum."
The man with the green bandanna finished with his forehead and puffed, "Delivery from Goldman Sachs. Two hundred and fifty ingots."
"Ingots?" Remo said.
"Hush, Remo," Chiun told him. To the messenger he said, "Open the crates and I will count them personally."
"Sure thing." The guard pried the lid off the top crate with a short prybar. One by one, he counted out fifty small gold ingots, stacking them in neat piles. The other man waited his turn until all 250 ingots lay open for display.
Chiun counted them three times before he turned to Faith at her reception mat.
"Issue this man three hundred shares of preferred," he said.
"Yes, Chief." Faith picked up the phone and began talking.
"Who is next?" Chiun asked.
"I am. Salomon Brothers. One hundred ingots."
"You know, Little Father," Remo said as the second set of ingots was brought forth, "I don't think this is how they normally do it on Wall Street."
"It is the way I do it. Do you know that when I arrived this morning, they were selling my obviously priceless stocks for mere money? Often credit. It was unbelievable. I asked to see the Global stock we owned, and my hirelings told me that although we owned it, we did not have possession of it. I asked when we would take possession and they told me that was not how it was done. The stocks would remain in the hands of a third party. We owned it in name only. It is a ridiculous system these people have. The money changes hands, but not the property. I put a stop to that at once."
"I'll bet you did."
A green-suspendered clerk came out of the office with a sheaf of stocks. He handed them over to the Goldman Sachs messenger, who went away just as Chiun finished counting the second gold shipment.
After the other messenger had left with his stock, Remo put a question to Chiun.
"Does Smith know how you're running this place?" he asked.
"I have not spoken with him all day," Chiun admitted. "But I am certain he will be delighted. I have sold more Nostrum stock today than in the previous month."
"Really?" Remo asked.
"I will let you in on a secret," Chiun said conspiratorially as clerks came out to gather up the gold in mail carts and wheel them into a side room. "Men will pay incredible sums if they believe a thing is valuable. Smith offered Nostrum stocks for mere credit, and few bought. I insisted upon gold, paid in full upon delivery, and they are beside themselves to own it."
"Little Father," Remo said sincerely, "I think you've got the hang of how they do business on Wall Street."
Chapter 10
P. M. Looncraft came into his office late. This time, it was not considered unusual by his employees. It was a Saturday.
On the way to his office, Looncraft stopped to lay a firm hand on the pink-striped shoulder of Ronald Johnson, who wore the gold tie of Looncraft, Dymstar d proudly.
"How are we today?" Looncraft said, low-voiced, knowing that every man on the floor would notice the personal interest he was taking in Johnson. He made a point of not calling Johnson by name-the better to keep the man in line.
"Excellent, sir."
"And Global?"
"I've acquired over five thousand shares for the company. They will execute Monday morning at the opening price."
"Hmmm. Only that?"
"I did buy some for myself," Johnson admitted.
"Good man. How many shares?"
"One thousand, sir. It will empty my bank account."
"Brave soul," Looncraft said in sympathy.
"Sir?"
"We may have to divest. I hear rumblings about Global."
"What kind?" Johnson squeaked. Catching himself, he lowered his voice. "I mean-"
"I know what you mean," Looncraft whispered. "It seems Global may be having FCC difficulties. And they are overleveraged. They may have to divest. Possibly downsize significantly."
"But . . . but my entire savings is in Global," Johnson croaked.
Looncraft clapped a hand on Johnson's shoulder. "You are a loyal employee, Johnson," he said magnanimously. "I value you. LD rb losses better than you. The firm will buy your shares at market, if you wish to sell. "
"Yes!" Johnson said fervently, tears coming into his eyes. "I'll execute it immediately."
"Wise man. No sense being long and wrong, as they say."
"Thank you, sir."
Looncraft started to walk away. Johnson's voice brought him up short.
"Mr. Looncraft. One moment, please."
"Yes?" Looncraft asked, making sure to suppress the greedy grin on his cadaverous face before he turned around.
"Nostrum. You asked me to look into them."