T. Bunn - Drummer in the Dark

Her Saturday highlight was shopping for Millicent, her somewhat lunatic landlady. Jackie then had tea in the big house’s moldy kitchen, drinking from a cup she hoped was stained with age and not encrusted dirt. The old woman made a little more sense than usual. She worried over Jackie back there with the moonbeams and the man in black, which Jackie assumed was a reference to the pastor’s nighttime visit. Jackie gave the woman only half an ear while the rest of her brain replayed all the dusty textbooks she had perused. She finally returned home, weary from wishing she knew what she sought.

Sunday morning she paused in her research long enough to attend the Lutheran church. Dressed in her most conservative clothes, Jackie joined the crowd, sat through the service, and marveled at her actions. The people and the sermon and the singing and the way she was greeted afterward were all very welcoming. A small sliver of sanity inserted into her day.

When she returned home it was to find a terse message on her answering machine from Eric. “I got your messages and don’t call me again. I don’t know if they’re listening and I don’t want to know. I’m still searching. I’ll be in touch.”

Jackie entered her kitchen alcove and went through the motions of fixing her lunch. She ate with an old textbook for company, wishing the niceness could have lasted a little longer.

A hint returned that evening, when Wynn called to report, “I’ve had a very strange day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’d rather not. At least, not until we’re together. Is that all right?”

She set aside the textbook, used a dishtowel to rub the dust from her hands, and walked out onto the tiny balcony. The evening sky was full of semitropical display. “Sure.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Better. And my leg. The stitches come out this week.”

“Jackie, late Friday I got hit on by a guy from the Fed. He said Hayek was buying dollars with both fists.”

She could almost hear her brain grinding into an unaccustomed gear. “Interesting.”

“But that makes a mockery of your news, right? I mean, he wouldn’t be digging himself in deeper if he thought the market was going to tank.”

“Not necessarily. Hayek might try to set up a feeding frenzy. Imagine a thousand currency piranhas attacking the dollar and devouring it whole. The effect would be an economic H-bomb, demolishing every U.S. market-stocks, bonds, commodities, the works.”

“But the Fed guy says he’s buying .”

“Just listen for a second, okay? Let’s assume what we’ve heard is right and Hayek is going to play on a weakening trend. They’ll want to be the first with unexpected news. It’d be something of a devastating nature, with a particular impact on derivatives.”

“Some seriously bad news.”

“Like an accounting scandal at Treasury. Or an industry bellwether declaring record losses for the quarter, so big it drags down the whole board. Something that has the foreign investors fleeing for a more profitable market.”

“That could happen?”

“Sure. A foreign pullout sparked the crash of ’29. No reason why it couldn’t happen again. You know what the market calls foreign investors? Nervous money. They jump at shadows. A massive loss by one of their key investment accounts could have them bailing out in droves.” She was talking faster now, her glances scattering green lightning around the treetops. “It would be a perfect setup. Currency traders move the markets every chance they get. This is highly unethical in, say, stocks or bonds. If he’s caught at it, a trader can lose his license and in some cases go to jail. But in the currency market it’s business as usual. Forex traders don’t analyze trends and try to anticipate where the market is headed. This isn’t a straight-ahead game, as the traders say. When they can, they create upheaval. Being the first with major news would mean they could position themselves for a huge push. If they’re big enough, their goal would be not just to ride the market but to demolish it. Turn a slight downward trend into a full-fledged rout.”

“You’re telling me,” Wynn said, clearly struggling to keep up, “Hayek could be buying dollars to heighten the market’s swing?”

“See, you’re learning. Say word gets out about Hayek and his dollar buys. Something this big is bound to be known. Hayek is a major force in the Forex markets. He’s won time and time again, which means the other players watch him. They hear Hayek is moving in and buying dollars. Others would crowd in, gambling that Hayek is betting right. The market goes ballistic. People scramble all over the globe. The central banks call around, trying to find a reason for this. Nobody knows for certain, but rumors abound. And still the dollar keeps climbing. Okay so far?”

“You’re telling me Hayek would do this just before the big news comes out, right?”

“Exactly.” But even as she said the words, the niggling sense of a lost signal pushed her back inside. Jackie stood looking down at the pile of textbooks. What was she missing here?

Wynn said, “Which means we don’t have more than a few days to find out what’s going on.”

“Less.” She paced the apartment’s tight confines, her brain shrieking. Where was Eric? “In this game, a few days are one step away from eternity.”

Monday

At ten-thirty the next morning, Wynn entered the Dirksen Senate Office Building and walked down to the meeting room. Eyes followed him constantly, but no one approached. He nodded to several people and did his best to pretend all was well.

Turning the final corner, he found Carter standing with Kay. As soon as he came into view, Kay spun around and walked away. Wynn’s own tread turned glutinous, dreading the news that Carter waited to deliver-that he was on his way out, a liability they could no longer afford.

He did his best to feign ignorance by saying, “I’m getting the pariah treatment around here this morning. I assume that means something’s happened.”

“The House leader came out vehemently opposed to the amendment. Stated he was in favor of striking the entire appropriations bill if we tried to push it through as is.”

“Not good,” Wynn said, resigned to his fate and his farewell.

“He declared it would be better to let the government shut down for a while than watch this amendment grind our economy to a halt.” Carter squinted as Kay had, like the place smoldered with the stench of a deal gone bad. “You know what that means?”

“I suppose-”

“Kay doesn’t like doing this, but right now she’s all out of options. You’re going to have to play the sacrificial lamb. Let the press claw you apart.”

Wynn tried to fit his mind around this news. “You want me to stay?”

“What, you thought Kay left me out here to swing the ax?” Carter grinned hugely. “You really want to stay around that bad?”

“Absolutely. If you’ll let me.”

“You’re all right, you know that?” Carter motioned toward the meeting room. “Come on, let’s go watch the fireworks.”

But before they could reach the entrance, their way was blocked by a trio wielding tape recorders and press badges. The portly male struck Wynn as vaguely familiar. But it was the more angular of the two women who said, “Gail Treats with the Washington Post , Congressman Bryant. Could you spare us a minute?”

Carter started in with, “We’re just about to-”

“It’s all right,” Wynn said. “There’s time for one question.”

“Thank you. The senior congressman within your own party has had some pretty harsh things to say about your so-called Hutchings Amendment. Do you have any comment?”