Pawn's Gambit

I woke up at four thirty still feeling tired and woozy. I decided to go for a run and promised myself I'd buy some melatonin tablets from the pharmacy to help get my circadian rhythms back to central time.

I was on the road for about an hour and got back to find Jean gone with a short note asking me to give the kids breakfast and take them to school. It was still early so I went to check my bank account. The money from JP Morgan had cleared so I transferred it into my off-shore account. I checked on the SEA-A shares and they had not only lost their earlier gains they were trading at eight ninety nine USD. They were not exactly in free fall but they were on the escalator going down. I was conflicted, fix my marriage or fix my financial future... Was it even possible to do both?

I spent as much time as I could with Dean and Katie and asked them some general questions about what they had been doing during the months I had been away. The answer was not much except some company activities with mom's boss Anthony Miller. They had played mini golf and gone to movies and out for meals. Katie was oblivious but Dean must have noticed my face and jumped in.

"It was always with his daughter, Evelyn Dad." He defended. "She always said that mom was such a big part of the company like we were all like one big happy family."

Katie nodded her agreement. "Yes aunt Evelyn always came with." She agreed.

I gave them all a smile and told them that I was glad they didn't stay at home without enjoying life while I was away but now I was back and summer was on its way I wanted us to go on vacation and have the best one ever. They cheered and I got hugs and kisses all over again.

I dropped them off at school and called a couple of friends to set up meetings for later that morning. I then phoned George Talis, my old mentor. He was my manager when I first hit the trading floor and he taught me much of the unseen currents that no computer program or App will teach you. "It's all driven by greed and fear" he would tell me over and over again.

We spoke for a while. He still lived in Chicago and was a registered broker running a small company for a few old clients. We discussed my accreditation. I was SEC Registered and a member of FINRA and also registered with the Illinois State Securities Authority and had signed the AML (Anti Money Laundering) Compliance. We agreed that I'd send him an electronic copy of the SEA-A prospectus and discuss it later that day.

I swung in to HSHS Community Pharmacy, opposite St John's Hospital. It was conveniently on my way to my first meeting of the day. I was walking out with my Melatonin and some vitamin tablets when I spotted Jean and Evelyn Miller coming out of St John's Hospital. They were holding onto each other and looked like two women tethered by a shared sorrow. I watched them unseen as they walked heads down and shoulders sloped, bereft of hope and dreams. They climbed into a waiting Uber and disappeared into the traffic.

What the hell was that?

I tried out all of the permutations running around my head from the previous evening but nothing quite clicked. Was my wife sick and hadn't told me? Was Evelyn sick? They looked heartbroken and hanging on each other for support, but not sick. Neither looked sick. Was it a shared acquaintance? They looked too emotionally connected to the pain for it to be a simple acquaintance... A friend then? No, more than a friend. A lover? Yes, quite possibly a lover. But a shared lover?

Whatever, whoever it was, they both shared a deep affection. Say it, my mind insisted. They shared a love for... For Each other? Maybe, but that wasn't it.

Fuck. Now what?

So I went rational and logical, or at least as rational and logical as I could under the circumstances and made it to my meetings. I pitched the SEA-A share opportunity and left nothing out including getting fired. Julian Knowles my first appointment said he'd get back to me later after he discussed it with his investment club. My second appointment was with Aaron Goldstein an old fashioned retailer with deep pockets. He liked the idea straight away and after spending some time on his computer moving money around he agreed to transfer 10 million to my trading account after the paperwork was completed.

I was drinking coffee at Starbucks on Monroe when George called. He liked the prospectus and had a group of interested investors. We agreed the commission structure on a sliding scale so that the higher the return, the higher the commission percentage.

I called my dad next and discussed the SEA-A opportunity and he said he'd like to jump onto it to the tune of one hundred thousand. He would transfer money the following day. I then discussed the whole situation I found myself in with Jean.

He stopped talking and I could mentally see him scratching his head. My dad was slow and methodical in his thinking. He had worked as a risk analyst for one of the States larger insurance companies. When he did respond it was concerning. "Her behavior is reminiscent of a woman in mourning."

Well, she wasn't mourning her mom or dad. They were both disgustingly healthy and living in Arizona. Apparently they loved the warm dry climate. She had no siblings and her few cousins were spread about the country and near strangers...

We spoke longer as I interrogated his thinking and eventually I had to agree with him. He rang off but not before he said he'd send me the number of a private detective they had used regularly in the past to investigate insurance fraud.

I went home and worked the phone to my contacts in Singapore and South East Asia to get an updated understanding of local sentiment and re-developed a risk assessment profile on SEA-A. It turned out virtually the same as my report. The numbers were rational, the management team was solid, the project was in its infancy but the critical fact was that the management team had all sunk their own money into it and that was the telling fact. They had more than skin in the game. They had staked their futures on its success. That cemented my position. It was green for go. I had a few hours to wait until the SSE opened and I would start the trading.

While I waited I called the number of the private investigator. His name was Clarence Williams I found his profile on Linkedin and a small website under the company name: Discrete Solutions. There were no pictures of him. When I called, he spoke with a slow southern accent and I got the feeling that he spoke that way on purpose because his mind was like a steel trap and his questions sharp and insightful. He asked for a five thousand dollar advance and said because my dad has sent so much business his way in the old days, he'd start the next day.

With everything in place, I paced about drinking coffee waiting for time to pass. My nervous energy was peaking. Dean and Katie arrived home late after sports practice and I spent as much time with them as I could but I explained that I had a major deal on the go. Jean arrived looking tired but somewhat more purposeful than the previous night.

"I bought Chinese on the way home." She announced as she came through to my study and kissed me on the cheek. "Are you working?

"Hi Jean." No endearments from her so none back from me either like a childish tit-for-tat. "I'd like us to eat as a family but I have to be working later this evening from about seven."

"Ok that's, that's good I guess." She was tentative. "I, uh, I have your birthday present." She handed over a small gift wrapped package. The small card read: Happy Birthday Adam. Lots of love. Jean. I had sent more personalised cards to second cousins. Inside was a bottle of Hugo Boss aftershave. I thanked her and she leaned in to give me a dry kiss on the lips. I may as well have been a second cousin.

We ate as a family. Dean and Katie shared their day between mouthfuls. Jean didn't talk much. We discussed some of the changes that had occurred while I was away. Dean complained that the old skateboard park had been closed down and there was less and less for teenagers to do in town. Then Katie said that she thought it was a good thing that Mr Miller, mom's boss was converting a property into a shelter for abused teenagers. I turned to Jean with a raised eyebrow.

"Um, yes well... I may have mentioned it." She admitted. "Tony wants to create a legacy project and this is his way of doing it." She was very superficial with the details and I could sense that there was more she wasn't saying.

"I'm surprized. I didn't realise that Miller was into that sort of thing." I really was. I thought he was the country club type.

"His wife Lynn started it while she was alive and he continued after her death." She informed me somewhat smugly, or was it something else I couldn't quite recognise. "He has often used empty houses that he owns for this but now he wants to convert one into a permanent facility."

"Why?"

"Why not!" She almost snapped at me. "it's a great cause and one that's sorely needed. It's not like the city or the State are doing much. Many of these teens end up..." On the street, she was about to say but stopped thanks to the young ears at the table. I looked pointedly at Dean and Katie nodding my head towards the door at them and they excused themselves to allow Jean and I an adult conversation.

"Why now? Is what I meant." I looked at her closely. There was something about this. Something she wasn't saying.

Her face went slack and something passed behind her eyes. "The opportunity has presented itself now." She said nodding as if to reinforce the validity of her words.

"Ah, ok. It certainly sounds like a great idea. Springfield can certainly use one." I asserted smiling at her. She smiled back as we both stood up to clear away the remnants of the meal. I did my best to keep a pleasant expression on my face and not frown or scowl. She had lied to me. Maybe not all of it was a lie but there was a good reason as to why now and it wasn't opportunity. Secondly her body language was screaming that she knew much more and it was somehow personal.

I helped clean up. Took out the garbage and told her I was going to my study to work. I still had an hour before trading opened in Singapore and I sat down and contemplated the situation. I considered my marriage trying to stay rational and keep a lid on the deep-seated pain that was threatening to engulf me. I knew that if I gave into it now, I would be unable to do what must be done. And yet, I knew that holding it in abeyance would probably make it worse when it hit. I wondered how we had reached this point, in the past, Jean and I had been compatible in almost every way. We had agreed on where to live, how to spend our money, our vacations when to have children and how many.

We had a good sex life. Fair enough the last few years were difficult with all my traveling and away time but usually, we would be making plans before my return and we would invariably have a mini honeymoon when I returned. Except this time. I had thought we were both on the same page but clearly we weren't. It pissed me off. Singapore and SE Asia was brimming with women looking for non - Asian men. Some for the experience. Some because most foreigners held lucrative positions and could offer more than their local counterparts. Some flat out saw it as their ticket to the West.

I was hit-on daily. At the office. On the Subway. At the open air food markets and especially at the many bars and clubs. Many of my co-workers dallied with the local women. Some even moved them into their apartments as de-facto live-in maids with benefits. I personally found the practice disgusting and exploitative but no-one actually cared about what I thought. The only reason I was thinking about this was because of the ten times a week every week that I had turned down a pass from a good looking woman, I had done so because I was married. More than that, I was married to a woman I loved and whom I thought loved me back but her behaviour and recent actions left me wondering if that was still true.

I cast my mind back to consider if there had been any warning signs leading up to this, but other than almost a complete break in communication over the last few weeks there was nothing I could pin-point. There was much to ponder but for now I had to focus on the job at hand.

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When the Singapore Market opened. SEA-A was trading at eight forty nine. I went in carefully and methodically. There was lots of sellers and very few buyers and any single big purchase would create ripples. I had over thirty million to play with. My contacts and George's contacts had come through. They trusted our expertise.

God help us all...!

My first purchase was for five million from an unknown entity. Then there was an avalanche of shares hitting the market as worried investors hoped to unload and salvage what they could. I bet that it was my old crowd dumping stock at the insistence of Head Office.

I kept buying in five million increments waiting for the price to stabilise but it was in free fall and kept dropping despite the purchases I was making. Someone was short selling shares they didn't have hoping to buy them back at the end of the day cheaper. The price continued its downward trend as panicked investors tried to divest their share-holdings hoping to get twenty five or even twenty cents to the dollar. The price had bottomed at five dollars sixty one when I made the final purchase of fifteen million dollars.

Our thirty million dollars had purchased us a little over ten percent of the total listed shares. That meant we could appoint someone to the board as we owned a significant share block if we decided to hold on to the shares rather than selling and realising the profit. I called George and we both had a whisky over the phone. My choice was a JP Wisers eighteen year old Canadian whisky on the rocks. George being the old and old fashioned guy he was, poured himself a ten year old Bulleit Bourbon.

The final result was that our purchases had triggered some of the investors who were sitting on the sidelines to come in and buy at this bargain basement price. The nett result was that by the time I logged-off the price had steadily climbed to Eight seventy two. The short sellers were in trouble and they would lose money. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the time. It was almost two in the morning. I had a five minute clean-up and climbed quietly into my bed and passed out my Melatonin tablets forgotten in my car.

Next morning I woke up late. Everybody was downstairs, Dean and Katie finishing breakfast. Jean was talking on the phone. I heard her say something about 'time being of the essence'. She saw me and said goodbye to the person on the other side.

"Work." She gave an exaggerated shrug. She poured me a cup of coffee. "You must have come to bed late?" I nodded whilst taking a sip. "Did, did your trading or whatever go well?"

I copied her and shrugged non-committedly. She had no idea that everything except our home was riding on SEA-A. "Early days. We'll have to wait and see." I deflected.

"Ok." She came by and kissed me on the cheek. You look tired still. I'll take the kids to school." With that she was out the kitchen calling Dean and Katie as she went. Those two shouted ' bye' and 'love you dad' and were gone. I poured a second cup and went to my study. I checked the closing share price and was gratified to see that it had enjoyed a late rally as market sentiment had shifted and closed the day at ten dollars fourteen. Those that held shares must have been gratified. Those who were short selling must have incurred a blood bath. Good. It was time for the shares to stabilise and start trading at their potential away from the games played by hostile entities.

I washed up and started sending e-mails and making calls. First business was to catch up with our investment crowd. That over I started with the Miller Real Estate Website. It was the usual. Vision and Mission statement with testimonials from happy sellers and buyers. There was a section or their Social Responsibility Programme which was centred around them helping teenagers in distress. They called it 'New Horizons Home'. They claimed that they supplied housing, meals, training, counselling and helping troubled teenagers find jobs, finish school, get off the streets, drugs, prostitution etc...

There wasn't much more to be found on their website so I moved to Facebook. I chased down Anthony Miller on Facebook and there were loads of images of his cars and vacations and the people he knew and hung out with. There was a recent group photo of a company event. The whole MRE team was there with Anthony in the middle flanked by his daughter Evelyn on his left and Jean on his right. Two things stood out: He seemed to have lost a lot of weight and was looking considerably older and if I was unkind haggard. The second thing I noticed was that Jean was holding his arm and looking at him rather than the photographer.

It didn't mean anything because one can read whatever one wants to in these moments in time like a Renoir painting, but still.... I looked up Jean's Facebook pages and there wasn't much, other than some old images and posts of the family including the two of us in what in my mind was becoming defined as: 'Better times!' Not much more other than some good news stories about her work, school and sports events. It was so bland and generic as to be uninteresting. The last photo she had posted of the two of us together was over two years old.

Onto Evelyn's Facebook which had started featuring a significant number of pictures that included Jean over the last few years. Some pictures showed her with Jean and Anthony but the photos did not show anything untoward other than the fact that they spent time together. Then the latest set of posts were somewhat cryptic about the 'meaning of life' and praying to God and the universe for positive outcomes.

I had another conversation with Clarence Williams -- Please call me Clarence, Adam. I've worked for so long with your father that I feel like I know you. I told him that I wanted to fast track the investigation. He said he'd try but these things take as long as they take. Then I called my dad. His advice was to stop jumping onto unsubstantiated conclusions and home-grown theories and to let the experts do their work and finally to give it time.

Easy enough for him to say. I was in a quandary. Should I reach out to my wife and start mending whatever was broken. If I did would it simply lead to bigger heartache later If I learned that I'd been played for a fool. On the other hand if I did nothing and it was fixable how much would it hurt if I could have made a difference but didn't. There was a hot-shot lawyers office in town and I made a call. I got through to a female associate whose advice was that it would be better if the marriage was fixable than going through a divorce. Very rarely are there winners, she said. Mostly there's only losers.

I had one last card to play. One of Jean's male colleagues owed me a small favour after I had recommended some inexpensive but good quality shares. He had last worked at MRE about six or seven months ago but I thought I'd pump him for some info. He was working for a competing Realty Company but was available for a late lunch and we met up at Red Robin for burgers and a brew.

Chad, walked in wearing a company golf shirt, chinos and dockers, with a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. He couldn't have looked more like a realtor if he tried. After pleasantries and general chit-chat during our burgers, I got down to it.

He laughed as my intentions became clear. "So, you're on a fishing expedition Adam?" I nodded. "Why?"

"I'm trying to understand a bit about MRE." I limited my explanation. "Some things have popped up that have me concerned."