fascinating.
It took nerves, she saw. And intense concentration, while appearing to be completely relaxed. Her instinct was to come out with things. To show how much she knew. Now she could see the value of saying very little. And letting the other person come to their own conclusions about how much was known. Let their fears take hold and take control.
“‘This,’” said the broker, “is a scam. Someone set up a shell and made it appear to be Taylor and Ogilvy business.”
“Someone?”
“I know you want me to say it was Tony, but it could’ve been anyone.”
“Including yourself?” It was said casually, with a touch of humor.
Lamontagne smiled, but his color betrayed him. “I supposed I could have, but I didn’t.”
Beauvoir waited.
“All right, I admit, it looks like it was Tony. His name’s on the statement and the cover letter.”
“With Taylor and Ogilvy letterhead,” said Beauvoir. “The clients would think their money was being managed through the company, but in fact he was stealing it and paying out generous dividends to keep them from asking questions.”
Lamontagne nodded, staring at Beauvoir. “Yes. Exactly.” He picked up the paper again. “Tony must’ve chosen people he knew weren’t plugged into the market. Who almost certainly never read the business pages or the statements.”
“Does this surprise you?” asked Beauvoir.
Lamontagne shifted in his chair.
“I’d have to say it does.”
“But you’ve heard the rumors about Monsieur Baumgartner.”
“I know his license to trade was pulled. That’s why I was asked to do his trading for him. That’s a serious penalty. I’d heard it’s because he was involved in something with clients’ money. But not directly. Apparently it was an assistant who did it, and Tony was the one who blew the whistle. And took some of the blame. The street loves a rumor, and a scandal, and especially loves a fall from a great height, even if it’s unfair. Especially if it’s unfair.”
“You make the street sound like it’s a machine,” said Beauvoir. “And not brokers like yourself.”
“I wasn’t involved in those rumors.”
“But did you do anything to stop them?”
“I didn’t feed them.”
It wasn’t the same as stopping them. As defending Tony Baumgartner.
“Did you think there was truth to the rumors?” asked Beauvoir.
“I saw no reason to believe them,” said Lamontagne.
“Did you see any reason not to believe them?”
“This business is made up of more than its fair share of wide boys.” When Beauvoir looked puzzled, he explained. “Mostly young men desperate to make a killing. Make a mark. They throw money around, they talk loud. They have all sorts of theories about investing that sound good but are bullshit. They genuinely think they’re brilliant. And their confidence convinces clients to invest with them. They’re snake-oil salesmen, and most don’t even realize they have no idea what they’re doing.”
“And Anthony Baumgartner was one of them?”
“No, that’s what I’m saying. He wasn’t. And from what I saw, he didn’t tolerate it. That’s why he turned that young fellow in. He must’ve known there’d be blowback and some of the shit would land on him. And it did. More than he probably realized.”
“So how do you explain this?”
Beauvoir placed his index finger on the statement.
Lamontagne stared at it and sighed. “He was in his mid-fifties. He’d been screwed over by the company. A company he’d helped build. By a woman he’d mentored. He’d been made an example of. Humiliated. It’s possible he saw a bleak future and decided to hell with it. If that’s what came of decency, maybe it was time to be indecent.”
Beauvoir saw another set of documents, pushed toward him. Across a sleek boardroom table. And he saw himself signing. Was he so very different from Anthony Baumgartner? Disillusioned. And now indecent.
“But if that was the case,” Lamontagne went on, “I never saw it. In all the trades I did for him, he was smart and fair. Often brilliant and prescient. He made his clients a lot of money.”
“You’re of course talking about the clients he wasn’t stealing from,” said Beauvoir.
The broker hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I honestly thought he was one of the good guys.” He smiled. It was more wistful than amused. “There’s a book we’re all told to read when we first get into the business. Tony gave me his copy as a thank-you gift when I agreed to use my license to do his trades. It’s called Extraordinary Popular Delusions and The Madness of Crowds. I guess we’re all deluded at times.”
“Could Monsieur Baumgartner have set that up”—Beauvoir pointed to the statements—“by himself,