To Save a Son Read Online Free PDF

they entered the conference room adjoining Nicky Scargo’s office, Franks had strengthened the lunchtime decision and was positively determined against becoming involved with private investors. He’d make the pretense—not just for Nicky’s sake but for Enrico as well, as the old man knew one of them—but he’d find a reason to make any business arrangement impossible. He’d always insisted upon personal, unfettered control, and he’d always been successful. So it would be ridiculous to consider changing the pattern.
    Franks was not aware of Nicky making any warning telephone calls to Maria Spinetti but she appeared to expect the men, ushering them into the conference room with the same vague seductiveness Franks had noticed before. Franks didn’t sit immediately but went instead to the window, gazing out at the twin towers and the nearby Woolworth Building. He looked in the direction of the unseen East River and the Lower East Side, thinking back to the time they had been children together and Enrico had set them the contests in that first apartment, just off East Houston. He’d never dreamed then of being a self-made millionaire—didn’t know what a millionaire was—or of one day standing in a high-rise building in the heart of the city’s financial district about to discuss, even if in the charade he intended, a forty-eight-million-dollar deal. How much he wished his father had lived to see all this happen.
    David Dukes was the first to arrive, precisely on time, a tall, discreetly dressed blond-haired man with a pronounced Texan accent and an even more pronounced Texan courteousness, profusely thanking Franks for making the meeting, as if the Englishman had flown specially from London to keep the appointment. The others arrived within minutes, and Franks was momentarily confused when three instead of the expected two entered. But at the moment of introduction to Roberto Pascara, Franks saw the man offer his hand without direction, and Franks realized that he was blind and that his other hand was resting slightly on the arm of his escort, a younger but very similar man. As if he were conscious of the confusion, Pascara said as they shook hands, “And this is my son, Luigi.”
    Franks extended the greeting to the younger man and Luigi responded with a firm handshake, cupping his father’s grasp to his arm with the other hand while making his gesture.
    As Franks completed the ritual with Roland Flamini he thought how similar the three men were. All were darkly saturnine and dressed similarly, in muted greys.
    Nicky, who seated himself at the head of the table after making the introductions, retained the role of broker, initiating and guiding the discussion. He spoke at once of the family relationship, to declare his own interest. Briefed from the lunch-time discussion, he was able to detail now the amount of money Franks considered necessary. He talked, too, precisely, factually, of the preliminary discussions with the three U.S. banks. Franks sat attentively, despite his already-made decision, admiring Nicky’s presentation. Franks was aware, too, of the attentiveness of everyone else in the room. Only the younger Pascara appeared to be making any notes; the three older financiers sat with head-bent interest toward the lawyer. The blind man seemed completely accustomed now to his surroundings, facing the speaker as if he could see as well as hear. It was the elder Pascara who began the discussion when Nicky stopped talking.
    â€œWhat’s the breakdown of the forty-eight million dollars?” he asked, head moving searchingly, waiting for Franks’ response to discern a direction from the sound of a voice.
    â€œFor each complex, five complexes in all, 9.6 million,” said Franks. “Two in Bermuda, three in the Bahamas. I’m estimating 6.5 million as outright construction cost, for each hotel.” The meeting wouldn’t be