MMB Chapter 360 Arrogant Goldman Sachs, Respectful Goldman Sachs
Chapter 360 Arrogant Goldman Sachs, Respectful Goldman Sachs
Chapter 360 Arrogant Goldman Sachs, Respectful Goldman Sachs
When Thomas Shee stepped into Goldman Sachs’s Pine Street office, he felt as if he had entered the belly of a giant beast.
In stark contrast to the simple and respectable atmosphere of New England, the air on Wall Street reeked of money and carried an invisible pressure that made it almost impossible for him to breathe.
He had just endured two of the most agonizing days of his life in Boston. Now, his only hope lay in this office filled with the smoke of cigars.
At the far end of the room, two people sat behind a huge mahogany desk.
The man on the left is Marcus Goldman's son, Henry Goldman. He is wearing a perfectly tailored dark gray suit, and his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses are sharp as an eagle's. There is a faint smile on his lips, as if he has already seen through Sheey's predicament.
Perhaps due to the shift in power dynamics, just this Monday when Shie summoned the young Jewish bill dealer to his office, he could only sense the man's marketability and slickness. But now—Shie could only sense the man's seasoned experience.
Although the two traveled together by train from Boston to New York, despite Sheey's extensive experience, she was unable to extract any useful information from the other along the way.
It was only then that Xi Yi realized that the timing of the other party's "visit" was perfectly timed, and their scheming was far superior to her own.
The man on the right is Samuel Sachs, Marcus Goldman's son-in-law. He looks more "friendly," with a round face and round-framed glasses. He has a憨直 (honest and simple) smile on his face, and although he speaks with an accent, it's not unpleasant. No wonder he became the CEO of Goldman Sachs.
At this moment, Sachs was looking down at thick Boston Savings Bank ledgers, his fingers gently tracing the pages, his movements slow and steady, giving people a sense of reliability and pragmatism.
"It is a great honor to have you at Goldman Sachs in New York! You are the most gentlemanly person I have ever met in New England, and it is an honor to accompany you," Goldman said first, his voice clear and confident.
He managed a forced smile and involuntarily straightened his posture in the chair, but felt his back was as stiff as a board.
Sachs looked up from the account book and smiled at Shii.
Shee said bluntly, "I—I need $400 million."
Sachs frowned slightly, but his smile remained unchanged. He said in a deep voice, "Oh, that's no small sum."
"I need it right now—" Shii added.
Goldman smiled slightly. "Mr. Sheehan, we've heard about what happened in Boston. It's regrettable that a small legal gambling scandal has caused such a huge upheaval."
"That's not a scandal!" Shii retorted excitedly. "That was a complete and utter slander!"
"Of course! Of course!" Samuel Sachs, who had been silent until now, looked up and interjected in his gentle voice, "We completely believe in your innocence, Mr. Sheey. The Boston Savings Bank's nearly century-old reputation cannot be shaken by a few rumors."
His sincere tone almost moved Xi Yi.
But the next second, Samuel Sachs changed his tone and said slowly, "It's just that the market doesn't follow logic; it only follows emotions. Depositors are scared, so we have to find a way to soothe their fear, right?"
Henry Goldman picked up the conversation, his eyes sharpening. "So, the key issue isn't the truth, it's liquidity. You need money to prove your bank is still strong."
Their back-and-forth banter made Xi Yi feel pressured. Given his life experience, how could he not sense the pressure the other was putting on him?
But after thinking for a moment, Shirley said, "That's right! I need $400 million, and I can stabilize the situation in just one month!"
Goldman and Saxe exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with unspoken understanding. The game of one playing the good cop and the other the bad cop had begun.
"Four million, that's no small sum!" Samuel Sachs sighed, tapping his chubby fingers on the table with a worried expression. "Mr. Shii, you're probably aware of the current situation in New York. Lately, the entire market has been very tight on funds. Foreign capital is withdrawing from the United States, and credit on Wall Street is extremely tight—and our positions aren't very secure either."
Xi Yi's heart sank; he sensed the other person's attempt to evade the issue.
"You can name a fair price!" Shirley paused, pleading in a voice that maintained his dignity, "I'm willing to pay a high interest rate, 15%, no, 18%!"
"18%?" Gao Man chuckled softly, a laugh filled with a seemingly peaceful helplessness, as if she were dealing with a curious elementary school student.
"Mr. Shii, you should know—the latest interest rate for some small and medium-sized banks on Wall Street has reached 16.9%, and that's a friendly price."
As he spoke, Goldman counted on his fingers and said to Sheely, "—But Wall Street's friendly price can't completely replace the fair market price. First, you're in Boston, Massachusetts, which is considered an out-of-town location; second, given that this is our first time doing business, there are bound to be some sunk costs. And third—"
Goldman gave Shii a particularly embarrassed smile, paused for a moment, and then said, "—For a bank that is experiencing a run, the risk premium must be high enough to cover the risk that we might lose everything."
Shii's face turned deathly pale. He knew he was now like a fish on a chopping board.
At this point, Samuel spoke again, his tone still gentle, yet every word piercing. "But, Mr. Sheehy, interest alone isn't enough. We're lending real money. What if—I mean, what if your bank really goes under? How will we protect our principal?"
"I can use the bank's assets as collateral!" Shii hurriedly said.
"Which assets?" Goldman raised his voice slightly.
"Our loan portfolio, and fixed assets—"
"Those loans?" Henry Goldman interrupted him, his tone somewhat cold. "In the event of your bank's bankruptcy, those will be paid out first—forgive my bluntness, but in my eyes, they're worthless right now."
Xi Yi was speechless.
The previously polite Goldman Sachs vice president has disappeared, and Xi Yi can now clearly sense the other party's shrewd calculations.
Samuel Sachs offered a timely lifeline, but what he handed over might have been a poisoned needle.
"How about this, Mr. Sheepy? Don't you hold a considerable amount of stock and bonds in the New York, New Haven, and Hartford Union Railroads? Those are high-quality assets; we're confident using them as collateral."
Shire's heart skipped a beat. Union Railroad was his last trump card, the cornerstone he was building for the bank's future.
Once he hands it over, he will completely lose the ability to turn his life around.
"This—" Xi Yi hesitated.
"No rush, you can stay in New York for a few more days and think it over carefully—you can even compare it with other banks or bond companies on Wall Street—" Goldman said with a grin.
Shee bit her lip gently, knowing in her heart that it was simply impossible. Her bank's cash was rapidly dwindling, and the line of people waiting to withdraw their money stretched all the way to the other side of the Charles River.
The Boston Police Department has intervened to maintain order, but the crowds continue to throng day and night.
Whether they can even survive two days is uncertain! What's the point of talking about "taking their time to think things through and staying a couple more days!"
Shii suddenly looked up. "I can offer bonds, but stocks—"
Goldman interrupted him, "—Then we have nothing to talk about. Good luck, and I hope the depositors in Boston will show mercy tomorrow." Goldman then stood up, as if to leave.
"Wait—" Sheepy's voice was hoarse. He closed his eyes in anguish. "Fine—I agree to use New England Union Railroad stock and bonds as collateral."
Goldman sat back down, satisfied, but Samuel Sachs shook his head, his face still bearing that honest expression. "Don't rush, Mr. Shee, there's one more small problem."
"What else?" Xi asked hurriedly.
"The term!" Samuel Sachs said slowly. "We can't lend you a month's loan at once; the risk is too great. We can only do interbank lending for seven days."
"Seven days?" Xi Yi was stunned.
“Yes! Seven days!” Sachs nodded and explained, “This is much better for both of us. After a week, if your situation improves, you can choose not to renew the loan; if you still need it, we can reassess and reprice it. That’s fair, right?”
Xi Yi opened her mouth but didn't say anything.
Fairness my ass! This is not fair at all! It's like putting a knife to your own throat—making you face a life-or-death ordeal every seven days.
"Furthermore," Sachs continued in his milder tone, "given the urgency of this operation, the need to utilize special channels, and the significant reputational risk involved, we will also need to charge an emergency liquidity support advisory fee of $1 per transaction, in addition to interest."
Shii completely broke down.
High interest rates, high-quality collateral, an ultra-short seven-day period, plus exorbitant consulting fees—each condition is demanding enough, but now they all have to be combined!
Shee looked at Henry Goldman, who smiled and said, "—Or you can sell all the stock and bonds of Union New England Railroad directly. We can help you list them, so you can solve your funding problem—we only charge ordinary commissions."
Damn it! If I were willing to sell those assets, would I need to seek financing from you?
Xi Yi thought bitterly.
He then turned to Samuel Sachs, this seemingly honest "good man" who at this moment was like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, spewing the most deadly venom in the gentlest tone.
Sheepy realized that this was not a negotiation at all, but a carefully planned trap. Henry Goldman had driven him to the edge with his sharp words, while Samuel Sachs had kicked away the last stone in his path with seemingly reasonable advice.
He was isolated and helpless, at the mercy of others.
Outside the window, the faint sounds of Wall Street's clamor drifted in—the sounds of money flowing and power struggles.
He, Thomas Sheey, from one of Boston's prominent old-money families, was once the pride of New England's financial circles.
At this moment, he was like a beggar, kneeling before these two Wall Street upstarts, begging them for a sip of water to save his life.
He wanted to storm off, but his reason told him that even if he went elsewhere on Wall Street, the terms wouldn't be any better than they were now.
The key issue is that we can't afford to waste time.
Hee thought of his "friends" in Boston who had rejected him, of the angry depositors in the bank lobby, and of everything he was about to lose—
Ultimately, all pride, dignity, and struggle crumbled into dust under the weight of reality.
Shii lowered her head, her voice low, "I accept all conditions. I accept them all!"
Henry Goldman and Samuel Sachs exchanged another glance. This time, their eyes held only naked, unspoken smugness.
Goman instructed his secretary outside to prepare the contract.
Soon, a contract that seemed to have been prepared in advance was placed in front of Xi Yi.
$400 million, seven-day term, 60% annualized interest rate. Collateral is preferred stock and bonds of New England Union Railway. An additional $1 advisory fee will be charged per transaction.
Samuel stood up, walked over to Sheey, patted him on the shoulder, and said in a tone so sincere it was almost suffocating, "Mr. Sheey, you've made a wise choice. Goldman Sachs will always be your most reliable partner."
"60%?!" Shii pointed to that line on the contract.
"That's the rate for seven-day interbank lending. You can ask around on Wall Street if you don't believe me," Goldman said in a reassuring tone. "Look on the bright side. What if you only need it for one period? Don't be fooled by the high interest rate; with a principal of 4 million, you'll only have to pay 56,000 in interest."
Xi didn't say anything more; he just stared blankly at the contract. When the secretary placed the contract and a pen in front of him, his hand trembled, almost unable to hold the pen, but he still signed his name.
When she put down the pen, Xi Yi seemed to have lost all her soul.
Henry Goldman and Samuel Sachs carefully reviewed the contract and both nodded.
"The cash will be deposited into your account an hour later. Of course, you'll have to withdraw it from another bank in Boston."
Goldman's tone softened again.
"Of course, you'll have to deliver the collateral to my man in Boston. He'll be waiting downstairs at your office. Once he sees the collateral, we'll notify the other banks in Boston to make the payment."
Sachs added gently.
Hee said nothing more. He stood up, glanced at the two Goldman Sachs employees, and then walked out of the office.
"Do you need us to help you book a train ticket?" Sachs asked kindly from behind.
Shii did not answer.
The door closed, and a brief silence fell over the office. Goldman stood by the window watching Sheey walk down to the carriage, and finally said softly, "This is it! With a 60% interest rate and consulting fees, the profit in the first week will exceed $65,000."
His tone was filled with the pleasure of calculation.
Sachs took off his glasses and wiped them with the corner of his shirt. The honest expression on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a shrewdness that ran deep.
"He will return here again and again over the next three weeks, and each time we will make him pay an even higher price."
"Can we defeat him?" Gao Man suddenly asked.
"No! He still has assets. As you just said, if it comes to the last step, he can sell all his railroad stocks—that's hard currency in the stock market."
"Yes! Oh right, did I tell you before? He wants half the profits!" Goldman suddenly said.
The two of them suddenly fell silent.
Sachs wiped his glasses slowly and solemnly, while Goman's fingers tapped unconsciously on the cold glass.
Sachs sat back in his seat and put his glasses back on. This time, the gaze behind the lenses was neither gentle nor cold, but rather gleamed with a thoughtful glint.
"How did Larry Livingston find out?"
The moment the name was uttered, the air in the office seemed to freeze for a moment.
Henry Goldman turned around, his signature smile gone, replaced by a complex expression of shock and apprehension.
"Last Friday night, he called me personally and said that Boston Savings Bank might be facing a run. He told me to call and visit the next day in advance so that I would get Sheepy's attention without seeming too obvious—I thought he was joking at the time."
"But he wasn't joking. He had us prepare $500 million in cash back then—" Sachs' voice was soft, but each word was enunciated firmly. "Did you notice? He not only predicted the timing, but he also calculated the scale of the bank run, and that Thomas Sheey would be in Boston with nowhere else to turn but us—he calculated it all perfectly."
The two fell silent again.
Just five minutes ago, they were gloating over their shrewd calculations. But now, looking back, everything they had done seemed to have been exactly what that young man in Boston had predicted.
They thought they were hunters, manipulating Shire. But now it seems they were nothing more than the two sharpest knives in the hands of that young man named Larry Livingston.
Larry quietly orchestrated the plan, ignited the powder keg, and then sat gracefully in the distance, watching them reap the final harvest for him.
"How old is he?" Sachs suddenly asked. "25, or 26?"
Gao Man scoffed, "You know the answer. You need to subtract ten years from your age!"
"—That's the crux of the matter." Sachs sighed. "In his eyes, we're probably just two useful tools."
Goldman stared intently at Sachs, shaking his head in denial. "No, we're not tools. He sees us as—partners?"
Even Goldman himself felt a little guilty about what he said.
After thinking it over carefully, Sachs waved his hand. "It doesn't matter! But I have a feeling that he has given us an opportunity, an opportunity for us to go from a local New York bill dealer to a financial broker who can influence the fate of banks in other regions."
He looked up at Goldman. "Is that possible?"
"You've worked with him, and so have I. What do you think?" Gao Man gave the other person a meaningful look.
Sachs chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I'm not afraid of him, I'm in awe of him. In this world driven by greed and fear, only those who can master both are true kings. Larry Livingston is such a king, and he's still young, which means—his era has only just begun."
Goldman nodded, then suddenly asked, "Half of the profits will be paid to him in advance?"
Sachs nodded. "And! Give me one month's worth first—and we'll make up the difference if that's not enough!"
If we assume the current 60% seven-day overnight lending rate, plus a $10,000 consulting fee, four weeks would amount to $226,668.
Half of that would be $113,334.
This was an astonishing profit, but neither of them objected. They even felt that the amount wasn't enough to please the other, and that it had to be paid in advance, with further gestures to show appreciation later.
Goldman picked up the phone and instructed the telegraph office to immediately send a telegram to Mr. Livingston, saying: The first four weeks' consultation fee will be paid immediately. Ask him if he wants cash or a bank transfer. Also, assure him that we will carry out every instruction he gives without fail.
Goldman Sachs is at his beck and call.
After hanging up the phone, Henry Goldman and Samuel Sachs exchanged a glance, the sense of superiority they had felt when dealing with Sheeyi completely gone.
Instead, there is a sense of caution and submission when facing an unknown and immense power.
They had just easily crushed a veteran Boston banker, which made them feel like they were at the top of the food chain.
However, when they realized that there was a younger, more mysterious, and more insightful player above them, their arrogance instantly turned into humility.
The rule on Wall Street is simple: you can trample on the weak, but you must bow to the truly strong.
Larry Livingston, without a doubt, was the powerful figure who made them bow down.
Outside the window, Wall Street remained bustling. But for the two people inside the office, the world had changed.
They were no longer players in the game, but rather willing pawns in the young chess player's grand chess game.
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