The Palace Thief Read Free Page B

current political situation. I would not mention any business proposal until the table had been cleared. At this point, the maitre d’ would approach, recognize me by name, and offer us an aperitif “as his guest.” This, as I said, was by arrangement, and though I always asked for Grand Marnier,I was brought scotch whiskey in an apertif glass instead, which I would then drain in a single draft. The whiskey could be counted on in the course of seconds to bring about a temporary, garrulous ease that I exploited by leaning toward the potential client and saying, in an offhand way that came easily after the cocktail, “Say, I bet they sock you at tax time.”
    Every partner at the firm had such a method, in one form or another, that produced results, and over the experience of numerous years I found that my particular entreaty worked quite well with the genre of client with whom I had most contact, specifically attorneys, physicians, and the not-infrequent movie or television actor—members of the professions, in other words, that required a certain ease with the public. Of course, I could vary my approach. Meeting, as we sometimes did, with the financial staff of corporations, I certainly would not try the “socked at tax time” approach. In those situations, of course, Mr. Priebe or Mr. Emond was present alongside, and the entreaty was a formal one, made in advance of the meeting, carefully considered against competing bids and factually represented in documents.
    In summary, I was able to do well at the firm, where I earned a good salary and good bonuses and was well on my way to a partnership, although I suppose I should mention another incident that occurred several years ago. At the time the firm still went by the name Priebe & Emond, as Paul Farmer had not yet been made a principal. One morning, before most of the other accountants and any of the secretaries were at their desks, Mr. Priebe appeared in my doorway and asked in a low voice whether I was free to see him in his office. There, we sat in the two padded chairs next to his window, which looked out over the Bay Bridge to the north and the shipyards to the east. Noticing that I was interested in the view, he chatted for severalminutes about the enormous tonnage of concrete contained within the bridge’s bulwarks; then he abruptly turned to the wall and asked me if I knew anything of what had been recently occurring in the savings and loan industry. Being familiar with the trade journals, I replied that I knew something of what was occurring then. It is important to note that this meeting between Mr. Priebe and myself occurred at least two years before the savings and loan affair became known to the public. Mr. Priebe then looked me in the eye and asked me what I would think of an accountant who knowingly doctored books to protect the partners in a government-backed savings institution. I understood that I was under consideration for a partnership at the firm and knew immediately that this was a test of my moral principles. “I would not approve,” I responded.
    “I didn’t think you would,” said Mr. Priebe, nodding, and then he rose to shake my hand, signaling that our meeting was over. Two days later, Mr. Emond entered my office during the lunch hour and told me that he had heard what had happened and was proud of my response. I myself was as well, of course, and I continued my regular duties with increasing expectation of a promotion. However, within a month it was Mr. Farmer who received the partnership.
    It is fruitless for me to speculate about what occurred, although I did notice that prior to his promotion Mr. Farmer had become more secretive about his work and was now often already in the office when I arrived in the morning. That is all I will say about this matter.
    Without omitting anything of importance, I have skipped to the year when Naomi was fifteen, Rachel thirteen, and Abba nine. To my astonishment the children had grown up each with a