The Blackstone Chronicles Read Online Free Page A

it has to do with the financing for the Blackstone Center project, right?” the contractor asked, his worst fears congealing into a hard knot in his belly.
    The banker took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “I wish it were that simple,” he said. “If it were only the Center project, I suspect I could arrange a bridge loan for a few—”
    “Bridge loan?” McGuire interrupted. “For Christ’s sake, Jules, why would I need a bridge loan?” He rose from hischair, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists. “The financing’s supposed to be all set!” But even as he spoke the words, McGuire knew that no matter how true they might have been only a few days ago, they no longer were. Nor would getting angry help the situation. “Sorry,” he said, slumping back into his chair. “So what is it? What’s happened?”
    “We don’t really think it’s very serious,” Ed Becker said, but there was something in his tone that told both McGuire and Oliver Metcalf that whatever was coming was going to be very bad indeed. “The Federal Reserve has put a temporary hold on loans by the bank, and—”
    “Excuse me?” Oliver Metcalf cut in. “Did you say the Federal Reserve?” His eyes shifted from the lawyer to the banker. “What exactly is going on, Jules?”
    Jules Hartwick shifted uncomfortably in his chair. For twenty years, ever since he’d taken over the bank after his father suddenly died, the worst part of the job had been having to tell a customer—usually someone he’d known most of his life—that he couldn’t give him a loan. But this was worse.
    Far worse.
    The construction account had already been set up; the first funds had been transferred into it. And Bill McGuire had already begun hiring a crew; two of the men who would be working on the project, Tom Cleary and Jim Nicholson, had come into the bank only yesterday to make small payments on debts the bank had been carrying for months. Just as he—and his father before him—always had, Jules told both men to wait until after Christmas. What, after all, could be the harm? The bank had already been carrying Tommy for a year and a half, and Jim for nine months.
    What would another month matter?
    Let the men and their families enjoy the holiday.
    Except that now there would be no more paychecks for those men, for the simple reason that the routine audit theFederal Reserve was working on had turned up what it considered a “disproportionately large percentage” of inactive loans.
    So many, in fact, that the Fed had put a hold on all new lending by the Blackstone bank until the bank could demonstrate how it was going to handle the loans.
    But to Jules Hartwick, they weren’t simply “inactive loans.” They were loans to people he’d known all his life, people who had worked hard and always done their best to meet their responsibilities. Not one of them had purposely quit a job, or been lax in looking for a new one. They had simply been caught in an economy that was “downsizing”—a word Jules Hartwick had come to hate—and would make good on their debts the moment things got better for them.
    Now, thanks to his own decision to carry all those loans, the bank wasn’t going to be able to fund the Center project. Ironically, the Fed had seen to it that at least some of the men whose loans were a source of concern to the auditors would no longer have the jobs that would allow them to make their loans current.
    “It seems the auditors are worried about the way we do business,” he said, forcing himself to meet Bill McGuire’s gaze straight on. “For the moment, we’re going to be unable to continue funding the construction account.” He turned to Oliver Metcalf. “The reason I wanted you here is so that Ed can explain exactly what’s happening. The bank isn’t insolvent, and I’m sure we’ll be able to straighten all this out in a couple of weeks. But if word gets out that the Fed is nervous about us—well, I’m sure you can