Final Option

you know, reconciling the trades.”
    “Are you familiar with Deodar Commodities?” I inquired.
    “Sure. It’s one of our accounts.”
    “Do you know how I could get in touch with them?“
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, do you have an address for them or a phone number?”
    “Why would I?”
    “If you don’t have that information, do you know where I could find it?”
    “It would be in the account file I guess,” he replied, scratching his head.
    “Which no one can find.” I groaned. “Did you know that the CFTC has been investigating Hexter Commodities?” I asked, trying another tack.
    “Bart was pretty mad about it,” Tim confided. “He said that the bastards were really out to get him this time. He thought they were trying to get back at him because of the surveillance camera thing.”
    “What was that?”
    “Oh, a couple of years ago the government wanted to put cameras on the trading floor at the board—you know—like they have in banks to catch hold-up men. They have them at the Merc, but Bart kept them out of the Board. He told me on Friday that the CFTC was just trying to get even.
    “He said the charges against him were bullshit,” Tim added in no uncertain terms. “He said that the CFTC was just looking for an excuse to come after him. They manufactured the whole thing.”
    “Would you happen to know why Mr. Hexter might have made an appointment to see Ken Kurlander Monday morning?”
    “Ken Kurlander the lawyer?” Tim asked. “I have no idea.”
    Mrs. Titlebaum appeared at the doorway, her face clouded with concern.
    “I don’t know how to explain this,” she said. “But I’ve been through all the files, and I’ve just been with Rita in Accounting. There’s not one scrap of paper about Deodar Commodities, and all of the computer files have been erased.”
     

CHAPTER 11
     
    “Where the hell is that fucking Barton?” demanded Savage. The day’s trading was clearly taking its toll. There were tiny beads of sweat on his forehead and his custom-made shirt was dark-ringed with perspiration. “He said he was going to come in and call the trades. He shows up yesterday, reads the screen, makes some suggestions, and then he’s out of here. Today there’s no sign of him. Fuck him. There are no sick days in this business.”
    “He had to meet with the attorney for his father’s estate,” I offered.
    “He should do that kind of shit when the market is closed. This isn’t college, for Christ sake. It’s war out there. I’ve got a half a dozen clients who say they’re pulling their accounts if they don’t hear from Barton personally. There’s something going on with the Krauts and D-mark prices are all over the place. We’re going to get killed.”
    “I know where I can reach him.”
    Savage pushed the telephone across the desk toward me. “Tell him to get his ass over here,” he said.
    I got Barton on the phone and explained the situation. “He’s on his way,” I reported, hanging up the receiver.
    “It’s about fucking time,” declared Savage.
    “I need to ask you about something,” I said. “I’ve been trying to track down some files that Bart was supposed to give me on Sunday. They’ve disappeared. It’s the Deodar Commodities account. It’s regarding the CFTC’s investigation.”
    “The CFTC is a pain in the ass.”
    “They’ve alleged that Bart was trading soybeans in conjunction with the Deodar in order to exceed position limits.”
    “That’s bullshit. Why would Bart want to exceed position limits in soybeans? What a crock.”
    “All the computer records of the accounts have been erased.”
    “What?”
    “That’s what Mrs. Titlebaum says.”
    “It must be some kind of mistake. Why would anybody want to erase account files? Those babes in accounting, they’ve got only one brain among the four of them.”
    “Would the files be easy to erase?” I asked.
    “I don’t know. I don’t do anything with the computer except read the Quotron screen. You should ask Loretta. She’d be able to tell you.”
    “Loretta Resch?”
    “Yeah. She’s in charge of the clearing operation. She understands all that computer shit.”
    “I'll talk to her,” I said. “Maybe she’ll be able to recover the files. But if she can’t, is there any way that we can piece together the information that’s been destroyed?”
    “You can ask for a printout from the clearinghouse. They keep track of all the trades. We keep all the trading tickets in