Tripwire

tabletop was glass, and there was a patterned rug under it. He shrugged wisely, as if he were including a hundred fine points of arcane business strategy in a single gesture, communicating with a man he wouldn’t dream of insulting by suggesting he was in any way ignorant of any of them.
    “I prefer not to,” he said. “We have an existing loan package, of course, but I beat them down to a hell of a favorable rate based on the premise that it was all fixed-amount, fixed-term stuff, with no rolling component. You’ll appreciate that I don’t want to upset those arrangements for such a trivial amount.”
    Hobie moved his right arm. The hook dragged over the wood.
    “Bullshit, Mr. Stone,” he said quietly.
    Stone made no reply. He was listening to the hook.
    “Were you in the service?” Hobie asked him.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Were you drafted? Vietnam?”
    Stone swallowed. The burns, and the hook.
    “I missed out,” he said. “Deferred, for college. I was very keen to go, of course, but the war was over by the time I graduated.”
    Hobie nodded, slowly.
    “I went,” he said. “And one of the things I learned over there was the value of intelligence gathering. It’s a lesson I apply in my business.”
    There was silence in the dark office. Stone nodded. Moved his head and stared at the edge of the desk. Changed the script.
    “OK,” he said. “Can’t blame me for trying to put a brave face on it, right?”
    “You’re in relatively deep shit,” Hobie said. “You’re actually paying your bank top points, and they’ll say no to any further funds. But you’re doing a reasonably good job of digging yourself out from under. You’re nearly out of the woods.”
    “Nearly,” Stone agreed. “Six weeks and one-point-one million away, is all.”
    “I specialize,” Hobie said. “Everybody specializes. My arena is cases exactly like yours. Fundamentally sound enterprises, with temporary and limited exposure problems. Problems that can’t be solved by the banks, because they specialize, too, in other arenas, such as being dumb and unimaginative as shit.”
    He moved the hook again, scraping it across the oak.
    “My charges are reasonable,” he said. “I’m not a loan shark. We’re not talking about hundreds-of-percent interest here. I could see my way to advancing you one-point-one, say six percent to cover the six weeks.”
    Stone ran his palms over his thighs again. Six percent for six weeks? Equivalent to an annual rate of what? Nearly 52 percent. Borrow one-point-one million now, pay it all back plus sixty-six thousand dollars in interest six weeks from now. Eleven thousand dollars a week. Not quite a loan shark’s terms. Not too far away, either. But at least the guy was saying yes.
    “What about security?” Stone asked.
    “I’ll take an equity position,” Hobie said.
    Stone forced himself to raise his head and look at him. He figured this was some kind of a test. He swallowed hard. Figured he was so close, honesty was the best policy.
    “The stock’s worth nothing,” he said quietly.
    Hobie nodded his terrible head, like he was pleased with the reply.
    “Right now it isn’t,” he said. “But it will be worth something soon, right?”
    “Only after your exposure is terminated,” Stone said. “Catch-22, right? The stock only goes back up after I repay you. When I’m out of the woods.”
    “So I’ll benefit then,” Hobie said. “I’m not talking about a temporary transfer. I’ m going to take an equity position, and I’m going to keep it.”
    “Keep it?” Stone said. He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. Fifty-two percent interest and a gift of stock?
    “I always do,” Hobie said. “It’s a sentimental thing. I like to have a little part of all the businesses I help. Most people are glad to make the arrangement.”
    Stone swallowed. Looked away. Examined his options. Shrugged.
    “Sure,” he said. “I guess that’s OK.”
    Hobie reached to his left and rolled open a drawer. Pulled out a printed form. Slid it across to the front of the desk.
    “I prepared this,” he said.
    Stone crouched forward off the sofa and picked it up. It was a loan agreement, one-point-one million, six weeks, 6 percent, and a standard stock-transfer protocol. For a chunk that was worth a million dollars not long ago, and might be again, very soon. He blinked.
    “Can’t do it any other way,” Hobie said. “Like I told you, I specialize. I know this comer of the market.