The mont he finished speaking, the secretary who had been waiting by the door stepped inside. Lowering his head, he said softly, "Mr. Henry, there is an invitation here from a German diplomatic delegation."
Those words cut straight across the argunt between father and son.
Both of them turned toward the telegram in the secretary's hand.
"Germany? A delegation?" Ford frowned, puzzled for a mont. Then, recalling the trendous wave of Arican capital that had poured into Germany over the past year, he roughly guessed what this was about.
Without much interest, he waved a hand.
"Tell Edsel to go. I have not been president of Ford for quite so ti, and I have no desire to waste ti on business matters."
Edsel Ford had only just suppressed so of the frustration from their earlier quarrel. He was about to reach for the invitation when the secretary hesitated, then added another sentence.
"Mr. Henry, they asked for you by na. And it is not about business. It is about politics."
Edsel's hand stopped halfway.
...
A few days later, on the first floor of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, Jörg walked down the corridor in immaculate evening dress toward a private dining room reserved in advance.
Astor followed half a step behind him.
Compared with Jörg's composed calm, Waldorf Astor's nervousness was obvious.
Once, his family had stood in the sa circle as Morgan and Rockefeller. Once, the Astors had been one of the nas that shaped New York itself. But that was the past. Since the successive deaths of his father and uncle, the decline of the family had beco an undeniable fact. He had not truly sat at the sa table as n of that weight in a very long ti.
It was not that he lacked ambition. He wanted desperately to expand his business channels. The problem was that his own ability had failed to match that ambition.
Every investnt he had touched in recent years had ended in loss.
He had also been just a step too late to seize the earliest golden wave of investnt flowing into Germany.
At the beginning of the year, Bethlehem Steel had even approached him with an offer to purchase the hotel and redevelop the land beneath it. On the surface, it was an ordinary transaction. In reality, it was a warning. If he sold, what disappeared would not just be the Waldorf Astoria. It would be the Astor family's standing in New York.
That was when Astor finally understood.
If he did nothing, the Astors would slip from a first tier family into a second tier one. Perhaps even lower.
That was a result he could never accept.
So he could lower his head. He could flatter. He could endure condescension. As long as this young German statesman gave him a dignified path to preserve his family's place, he was willing to do almost anything.
Jörg pushed open the door.
Grey smoke drifted out through the crack before the door had even fully opened.
Inside, Jack Morgan, representing the Morgan interests, and John Rockefeller were seated together, speaking in loud, easy tones about the continued rise of Dawes stock.
Across from them sat a refined middle aged man with spectacles, his bearing scholarly and cautious. Beside him was an elderly man leaning on a cane, his face sead with age, yet his eyes still unnervingly sharp. He looked at Jörg with a half smile, as though asuring him the instant he entered.
The others also followed that gaze.
When Jack Morgan saw Jörg step in, he rose first, broad smile already in place. He crossed the room, clapped a hand on Jörg's shoulder with practiced familiarity, and announced:
"Gentlen, allow to welco the true architect behind Dawes stock, Mr. Jörg!"
Then he turned, beginning the introductions one by one.
"That gentleman there is Mr. Roy Young, President of the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis. And this, of course, is Mr. Benjamin Strong. I am certain you have heard of him. One of the true legends of the Federal Reserve."
Jack's grin widened. "I trust you do not mind that I brought them along, Jörg."
Benjamin Strong stood first and extended his hand.
"To take the economic future of an entire country and turn it into a financial instrunt tradable on the market is an astonishingly bold concept, Mr. Jörg. It is a pleasure to finally et you."
After a brief round of handshakes, Jörg took the seat by the window. He did not bother with pleasantries for long.
"I assu," he said, settling comfortably into his chair, "that all of you have already heard certain whispers from Washington."
Rockefeller crushed out his cigar and gave a small nod.
"We have heard so talk about your proposal regarding the relocation of the shipbuilding industry. Dawes is not a man gifted with restraint. Your idea is interesting, Jörg, but difficult. There are quite a few n in politics who are not enthusiastic about it."
Jörg smiled faintly.
"It does not matter whether they are enthusiastic. Mr. Rockefeller, if you were not interested, you would not have accepted tonight's invitation."
Rockefeller smiled back without answering directly.
Instead, Jack Morgan picked up the conversation, just as he and Rockefeller had already agreed beforehand.
"That is correct, Jörg. We can help move this bill forward. We know many people on both sides of the aisle, n who can do quite a bit to shape the right outco."
He paused, then leaned back.
"But a motorcar does not start without fuel, and politicians do not move without cost. I think you understand that better than most."
In just a few sentences, Jörg understood exactly what they wanted.
That was the nature of rchants. No one rose before dawn unless profit was waiting at the end of the road.
He declined the cigar Rockefeller pushed toward him and said evenly, "Then let us skip the dance, Mr. Jack. Tell what you want."
"Our demands are simple," Jack replied. "We want financial oversight in Germany to beco a little more... flexible."
Jörg shook his head at once.
No wonder these n dominated Arican finance. The agreent itself was already profitable for them. If the shipbuilding proposal passed, Dawes stock would soar again, perhaps even more violently than before. Yet in a few sentences Jack had already refrad a mutually beneficial arrangent as though they would be doing Germany a personal favor.
"I am afraid not, Mr. Jack. That is beyond my authority. And I do not believe the Weimar Republic will make concessions on that point either."
Jack's expression did not change, but his tone cooled.
"That is not a wise answer, Mr. Jörg. Compared to real economic growth, a small concession in financial supervision is insignificant."
But Jörg was unmoved.
He set his glass down and replied with asured calm, "Concessions depend entirely on circumstance. Even without being a financier, I understand this much. If the agreent passes, Dawes stock rises. If Dawes stock rises, your profits expand with it."
"And more than that, shipbuilding related equities in Britain and France would likely decline. That alone would open quite a bit of room for maneuver for n such as yourselves."
His gaze moved from Jack Morgan to Rockefeller, then to Strong and Roy Young.
"So let us be precise. This is not help. This is mutual profit. If the agreent passes, both sides gain. If it fails, both sides lose. You are not helping . You are helping yourselves."
Jack narrowed his eyes slightly.
Still, Jörg continued before anyone else could interrupt.
"Cooperation, however, requires sincerity."
He folded his hands loosely in front of him.
"Before I ca to Arica, I learned sothing interesting. The Arican market is still rising, yes, but compared with the years imdiately after the war, its rate of expansion has already begun to slow. Has it not?"
Jack gave a shallow nod.
At the side, Benjamin Strong shifted slightly, resting his head against one hand. His earlier indifference had faded. He was listening now with full attention.
"And I," Jörg said, his tone dropping just enough to sharpen the room, "have a way to accelerate that growth again."
He let the silence stretch a mont, then smiled.
"So my question is very simple. Would that be enough sincerity to purchase a truly mutual arrangent?"
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
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