New York

by Edward Rutherfurd

For Wall Street’s Black Monday and Black Tuesday were events never to be forgotten. During the weekend, the public had read the newspapers, pondered the reassuring statements of the bankers, and come to their own conclusion. It consisted of a single word. Sell. On Monday, Charlie watched as the market collapsed. That day the Dow fell over twelve percent. Yet Tuesday was even more dramatic. The percentage fall was almost the same, but it was the volume of shares that was so astounding. Over sixteen million shares changed hands. No one had ever seen anything like it. The number of transactions was so huge that the ticker-tape machines were two and a half hours behind. As he watched his father anxiously, he wondered if any brokerage house could withstand such carnage. Perhaps it was as well that William Master knew his son was watching him. It helped him get through. Courage under fire, grace under pressure: call it what you will, he did his best to set his son an example. As the market lost a quarter of its value in two days, his face never once broke into even a grimace. He was grave, but he was calm. On Wednesday morning, Joe drove him to his office as normal, in the silver Rolls-Royce. When he got out, he summoned all his people and told them: “Be vigilant, gentlemen. Very soon, perhaps even today, there will be a great buying opportunity.” And lo and behold, there was. On Wednesday, October 30, the market went back up by a staggering twelve and a half percent. A little b...