The guests ranged from hard-core Wall Street types like Carl himself all the way down to Brianna's hair colorist and two semi-employed Broadway actors. There were bankers with their aging though nicely sculpted1 wives, and moguls with their superbly starved trophies2. There were Trudeau Group executives who would rather have been anywhere else, and struggling painters from the MuAb crowd who were thrilled at the rare chance to mingle3 with the jet set. There were a few models, number on the Forbes 400 list, a running back who played for the Jets, a reporter from the Times along with a photographer to record it all, and a reporter from the Journal who would report none of it but didn't want to miss the party. About a hundred guests, all in all a very rich crowd, but no one at the party had ever seen a yacht like the Brianna.
It was docked on the Hudson at the Chelsea Piers5, and the only vessel6 larger at that moment was a mothballed aircraft carrier a quarter of a mile to the north. In the rarefied world of obscenely expensive boating, the Brianna was classified as a mega-yacht, which was larger than a super-yacht but not in the same league as a giga-yacht. The latter, so far, had been the exclusive domain7 of a handful of software zillionaires, Saudi princes, and Russian oil thugs.
The invitation read: "Please join Mr. and Mrs. Carl Trudeau on the maiden8 voyage of their mega-yacht, Brianna, on Wednesday, May 26, at 6 p.m., at Pier4 60.”
It was 192 feet long, which ranked it number twenty-one on the list of the largest yachts registered in America. Carl paid $60 million for it two weeks after Ron Fisk was elected, then spent another $15 million on renovations, upgrades, and toys.
Now it was time to show it off, and to display one of the more dramatic comebacks in recent corporate9 history. The crew of eighteen gave tours as the guests arrived and took their glasses of champagne10. With four decks above water, the ship could comfortably accommodate thirty pampered11 friends for a month at sea, not that Carl ever intended to have that many people living so close to him. Those lucky enough to be chosen for an extended cruise would have access to a gym with a trainer, a spa with a masseuse, six Jacuzzis, and a chef on call around the clock. They would dine at one of four tables scattered12 throughout the boat, the smallest with ten seats and the largest with forty. When they felt like playing, there was scuba13 gear, clear-bottom kayaks, a thirty-foot catamaran, Jet Skis, and fishing gear, and, of course, no mega-yacht is complete without a helicopter. Other luxuries included a movie theater, four fireplaces, a sky lounge, heated tile floors in the bathrooms, a private pool for nude14 sunbathing15, and miles of mahogany and brass16 and Italian marble. The Trudeaus' stateroom was larger than their bedroom back on land. And, in the formal dining room on the third level, Carl had finally found the permanent place for Abused Imelda.
Never again would she greet him in the foyer of his penthouse after a hard day at the office.
As a string quartet played on the main deck, the Brianna shoved off and turned south on the Hudson. It was dusk, a beautiful sunset, and the view of lower Manhattan from the river was breathtaking. The city shook with its frenetic energy, which was fascinating to watch from the deck of such a fine boat. The champagne and caviar also helped the view. Those on ferries and smaller vessels17 couldn't help but gawk as Brianna moved by, her twin 2,000-horsepower Caterpillar18 diesels19 churning a quiet wake.
A small army of black-tied waiters moved deftly20 about the decks, hauling drinks on silver trays and finger food too pretty to eat. Carl ignored most of his guests and spent his time with those he controlled, one way or another. Brianna was the perfect hostess, gliding21 from group to group, kissing all the men and all the women, making sure everyone got the chance to see her.
The captain circled wide so the guests could have a nice view of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, then turned north in the direction of the Battery, at the southern tip of Manhattan. It was dark now, and the rows of skyscrapers22 lit up the financial district. Under the Brooklyn Bridge, under the Manhattan Bridge, under the Williamsburg Bridge, the Brianna sailed up the East River in all its majesty23. The string quartet retired24, and the best of Billy Joel boomed through the ship's elaborate sound system. Dancing erupted on the second-level deck. Someone got shoved into a pool. Others followed, and clothing soon became optional. It was the younger crowd.
As per Carl's instructions, the captain turned around at the United Nations building and increased speed, though it was not noticed. Carl, at that moment, was giving an interview in his sweeping25 office on the third deck.
At precisely26 10:30, on schedule, the Brianna docked at Pier 60, and the guests began their slow departures. Mr. and Mrs. Trudeau saw them off, hugging, kissing, waving, wishing they would all hurry along now. A midnight dinner was waiting. Fourteen remained behind, seven lucky couples who would cruise south to Palm Beach for a few days. They changed into more casual clothing and met in the formal dining room for yet another drink while the chef finalized27 the first course.
Carl whispered to the first mate that it was now time to leave, and fifteen minutes later the Brianna pushed off again from Pier 60. While the guests were being charmed by his wife, he excused himself for a few minutes. He climbed the steps to the fourth level, and on a small elevated deck found his favorite spot on this fabulous28 new toy of his. It was an observation post, the ship's highest point above the water.
As the cool wind blew his hair, he gripped the brass railing and stared at the mammoth29 towers in the financial district. He caught a glimpse of his building, and his office, forty-five floors up.
Everything was up. Krane common stock was just under $50 a share. Its earnings30 were through the roof. His net worth was over $3 billion and rising steadily31.
Some of those idiots out there had been laughing eighteen months earlier. Krane is finished. Trudeau is a fool. How can a man lose a billion dollars in one day? they howled.
Where was their laughter now?
Where were all those experts now?
The great Carl Trudeau had outfoxed them again. He'd cleaned up the Bowmore mess and saved his company. He'd driven its stock into the ground, bought it cheap at a fire sale, and now owned virtually all of it. It was making him even richer.
He was destined32 to move up the Forbes 400 list, and as Carl sailed along the Hudson at the very top of his extraordinary ship, and gazed with smug satisfaction at the gleaming towers packed around Wall Street, he admitted to himself that nothing else mattered.
Now that he had three billion, he really wanted six.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
I am compelled to defend my native state, and do so with this flurry of disclaimers.
All characters herein are purely33 fictional34. Any similarity to a real person is coincidental.
There is no Cary County, no town of Bow-more, no Krane Chemical, and no product such as pillamar 5. Bi-chloronylene, aklar, and cartolyx do not exist, as far as I know.
The Mississippi Supreme35 Court has nine elected members, none of whom were used as models or inspiration for anyone mentioned or described in the preceding pages. None of the organizations, associations, groups, nonprofits, think tanks, churches, casinos, or corporations are real. I just made them up. Some of the towns and cities can be found on a map, others cannot. The campaign is a figment of my imagination. The lawsuit36 is borrowed from several actual cases. A few of the buildings really do exist, but I'm not altogether sure which ones.
In another life, I served as a member of the Mississippi House of Representatives, and in that capacity had a role in making laws. In this book, some of those laws have been amended37, modified, ignored, and even outright38 butchered. Writing fiction sometimes requires this.
A few of the laws, especially those dealing39 with casino gambling40, * survive without tampering41 on my part.
Now that I have impugned42 my own work, I must say that there is a lot of truth in this story. As long as private money is allowed in judicial43 elections we will see competing interests fight for seats on the bench. The issues are fairly common. Most of the warring factions44 are adequately described. The tactics are all too familiar.
The results are not far off the mark.
As always, I leaned on others for advice and expertise45. Thanks to Mark Lee, Jim Craig, Neal Kassell, Bobby Moak, David Gernert, Mike Ratliff, Ty, Bert Colley and John Sherman.
Stephen Rubin published this book, Doubleday's twentieth, and the gang there-John Fontana, Rebecca Holland, John Pitts, Kathy Trager, Alison Rich, and Suzanne Herz-again made it happen.
And thanks to Renee for her usual patience and abundance of editorial comments.
John Grisham October 1, 2007 JOHN GRISHAM has written nineteen previous novels and one work of nonfiction, The Innocent Man, published in 2006. He lives in Virginia and Mississippi.
1 sculpted | |
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n.(为竞赛获胜者颁发的)奖品( trophy的名词复数 );奖杯;(尤指狩猎或战争中获得的)纪念品;(用于比赛或赛跑名称)奖 | |
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3 mingle | |
vt.使混合,使相混;vi.混合起来;相交往 | |
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4 pier | |
n.码头;桥墩,桥柱;[建]窗间壁,支柱 | |
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5 piers | |
n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 );(常设有娱乐场所的)突堤;柱子;墙墩 | |
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6 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
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7 domain | |
n.(活动等)领域,范围;领地,势力范围 | |
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8 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
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9 corporate | |
adj.共同的,全体的;公司的,企业的 | |
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10 champagne | |
n.香槟酒;微黄色 | |
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11 pampered | |
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12 scattered | |
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13 scuba | |
n.水中呼吸器 | |
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14 nude | |
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15 sunbathing | |
n.日光浴 | |
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16 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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17 vessels | |
n.血管( vessel的名词复数 );船;容器;(具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的)人 | |
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18 caterpillar | |
n.毛虫,蝴蝶的幼虫 | |
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19 diesels | |
柴油( diesel的名词复数 ); 柴油机机车(或船等) | |
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20 deftly | |
adv.灵巧地,熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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21 gliding | |
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22 skyscrapers | |
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23 majesty | |
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24 retired | |
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27 finalized | |
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28 fabulous | |
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29 mammoth | |
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30 earnings | |
n.工资收人;利润,利益,所得 | |
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34 fictional | |
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35 supreme | |
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39 dealing | |
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40 gambling | |
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41 tampering | |
v.窜改( tamper的现在分词 );篡改;(用不正当手段)影响;瞎摆弄 | |
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42 impugned | |
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44 factions | |
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