The Inner Sanctum Read Online Free PDF

during the recruiting process, every bit as pressure-packed as a Wall Street position.
    Every portfolio manager's performance--no matter how senior the individual--was reviewed monthly and rated on an absolute basis against the Dow Jones index and on a relative basis against other Sagamore portfolio managers. On the first day of each month the firm sent an E-mail message to all employees ranking the portfolio managers from first to last based on their previous month's performance. Too many months on the bottom half of the list meant intense scrutiny from the executive committee and the very real possibility of being fired from the high-paying job.
    This acute pressure led to a variety of consequences. Ulcers were commonplace. At least five of the portfolio managers regularly visited psychiatrists. And since David had joined Sagamore, two men in their early fifties had committed suicide--one with a closed garage door and a running car motor, the other by leaping from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.
    The bottom half of the monthly E-mail list was a nasty place for a Sagamore portfolio manager. David had found himself mired there shortly after becoming a manager and had been unable to escape since. He gazed at the skyscrapers in the distance. He would be out of the lowly position soon--as long as tomorrow went well.
    "David?"
    David continued staring out the window, lost in thought.
    "Little brother, I apologize for rushing you, but I've got to get back to the garage."
    David turned away from the window and sat down in the desk chair. "Sorry, Will. I've just got a few things on my mind."
    "I understand. You've got a lot of pressure on you here." Will was the oldest of the four Mitchell brothers. Will had never gone to college and was now a mechanic, as were the other two brothers. David was the only one who had made it to college--and out of Glen Owens. "You know I hate asking you for this."
    "I know." This was difficult for both of them. "How much do you need?"
    Will picked at the grease lodged beneath his fingernails. Finally he glanced up at his brother, then looked away. "It's just so stupid. I should have had insurance on the damn car. But I'm trying to save money, what with the twins and--"
    "How much do you need to fix it, Will?" David interrupted. He didn't have time for this.
    "Five thousand dollars."
    "Okay." Being constantly strapped for cash could break a person's spirit more effectively than a physical beating. David had seen it break his father. Now the same thing was happening to his older brother.
    "Hello, Mr. Mitchell."
    David recognized Art Mohler's tight-jawed, upper-crust voice immediately. Mohler was Sagamore's senior portfolio manager and one of three members of the executive committee--the delegation that ran the firm and kept its important secrets. He was the man to whom David and the other portfolio managers reported. The bane of their existence.
    Mohler didn't actually run his own portfolio, but presided over everyone else's. No portfolio manager could enter any stock position worth over $20 million without Mohler's prior approval, which David had originally thought would be a good thing. If a stock lost value, there would be someone else to share the blame, he reasoned. But it didn't work that way at Sagamore. If a stock performed well, Mohler took a large share of the credit. If a stock tanked, he blamed it on you. And the other members of the executive committee allowed Mohler that privilege.
    "Good afternoon." David forced himself to be polite even though Mohler constantly rode him about his lowly standing in the monthly rankings.
    "It's only a good afternoon if we're making money." Mohler was in his late fifties but appeared younger. He was short and thin, wore half-lens tortoiseshell glasses, and dressed as though he were about to film a Brooks Brothers commercial.
    "Art, this is my older brother, Will," David said as he stood up. "Will, this is Art Mohler. Art is one of our senior executives."
    Will