America's Road to Wealth

Manhattan, New York.

In Robert Morgenthau's office.

Robert opened this issue of the New York Observer and read its front page headlines carefully.

Robert first looked at the author of the front-page headline and found that it was Malcolm Gladwell.

The author, Robert knew, was a young copywriter.

He is currently a columnist for The New Yorker and a staff writer for The New York Times and The Washington Post.

This person's writing style is sharp and his language is humorous. Although most of his works are not fictional and do not revolve around a character or a story.

But the storylines are generally more tortuous, and his articles have an ups and downs flavor.

in this report.

Malcolm Gladwell writes Abe Smith as a man in Texas, fresh out of college.

Because his ideas are different from those of his father, his father does not support him.

A contemporary young man who secretly ran away from home and went to New York, the largest city in the United States, to work on his own.

The article also said that when Abel Smith first arrived in New York, he only had seventy dollars.

Seeing this, Robert couldn't help but cursed - "FXXYOU! This is making up nonsense."

As far as Robert knew, the young man named Abel Smith.

On the third day after arriving in New York, I started trading in the foreign exchange market.

And the first transaction, the amount was as high as 70,000 US dollars.

Now it is said that when he came, he only had seventy dollars with him.

Where did the last $70,000 come from?

Robbery of a bank?

Robert wondered how Malcolm Gladwell would continue to write.

Robert continued to read.

In the article, this young British-Canadian American writer.

In a legendary and ups and downs plot, it describes Abel Smith's experience of making money in the first three months on Wall Street.

[This day, Smith was having breakfast. Suddenly a newspaper fell to his feet. He picked it up and looked at it. The newspaper said that the yen would fall today. 】

[Then he took this newspaper, entered the exchange, and bought the falling yen. 】

[That evening, he made $90,000. 】

"so funny!"

Reviewed by Robert Morgenthau.

But Robert knew that this kind of straightforward narrative could easily attract readers.

Robert criticized and read carefully.

It took him half an hour to read this article, which was at least 3,000 words long.

After reading it, Robert frowned.

He put down the newspaper and subconsciously picked up the coffee cup with his other hand and took a sip.

But he found that the coffee in the coffee cup was empty, and he had finished it just now.

This meant that Robert had just been watching with great concentration.

Putting down the empty coffee cup, Robert stood up and walked around the office.

Then he returned to his seat, picked up the landline phone and pressed "1".

The phone rang, "Hello, Mr. Morgenthau."

"Tylande, dial Arthur Carter's number for me."

Robert ordered his secretary.

"Okay. Is it Mr. Arthur Carter of the New York Observer?" the secretary confirmed.

"correct."

"Okay, I'll connect you."

The phone was hung up and it beeped.

Soon, a voice sounded.

"Hello?"

"Hello Arthur, I'm Robert Morgenthau."

After hearing Robert's self-introduction, the other party was silent for a moment.

"Hello, Mr. Morgenthau. What do you want from me?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I would like to know if the report on the front page of today's issue of the New York Observer is what you mean?"

"Forehead"

Arthur Carter on the other side of the phone said, "Mr. Morgenthau, I'm sorry.

As of six o'clock last night, the New York Observer no longer belonged to me. I sold it. "

"Oh?" Robert was surprised.

Arthur Carter had been seeking to sell the New York Observer, and Robert knew about it.

Although the "New York Observer" has a certain influence among New York's elite.

But its sales volume per issue is only about 40,000 to 60,000 copies, and it won’t work if sales don’t increase profits.

As far as Robert knew, the newspaper seemed to have been losing money.

Arthur Carter had been wanting to sell since a few years ago.

It’s just that in a profitable business there are people who are willing to do it even if they don’t have a head, but in a losing business there is no one even if they have two heads.

The New York Observer doesn't make money, so there are only a few people who want to take it over.

Arthur has never been able to sell it, but he didn't expect it to be sold now.

"Can you tell me who the buyer is?" Robert asked softly.

"Oh, it's not a secret." Arthur Carter said:

"Abel Smith, the young Wolf of Wall Street, a new generation of financial tycoons.

Well, it seems like you are "familiar" with him. "

"Ha~"

Robert's face darkened, and he said softly: "Thank you, Arthur.

But I am not familiar with this young man, thank you for your message.

I still have something to do here. How about we go play ball together next time? "

"Okay. Let's make an appointment next time."

"Um."

Robert Morgenthau hung up the phone.

He rubbed the microphone and thought about why that young man suddenly purchased a newspaper.

And in such a hurry, he started bragging about himself the next day.

This should be somewhat related to what happened yesterday.

Robert, who has spent many years in Manhattan's political and legal circles, is keenly aware of this.

After thinking for a while, he pressed "1" on the phone again.

"Hello, Mr. Morgenthau."

"Tylande, help me call Paige and Cyrus in."

"OK."

A few minutes later, Cyrus and Paige, the leader and deputy leader of the Financial Crimes Investigation Team of the Manhattan District Attorney's Office in New York, walked in.

After the two came in, Robert motioned for them to sit down.

Then Robert spoke: "Cyrus, what happened yesterday?"

Cyrus immediately replied: “It’s already been checked.

Sophia Kender and Jace Bledsos, one is suspected of violating three financial laws, and the other is suspected of violating seven. Information and evidence have been prepared and can be prosecuted at any time. "

Robert waved his hand and continued to ask: "Where is Smith Capital?"

Cyrus couldn't help but look at Paige, who shrugged at him, indicating that you were the boss and you should answer.

Cyrus thought to himself, this is your grandfather, he loves you as much as he loves you.

But he knew that after last time.

Peggy Morgenthau disagreed with the continued investigation of Smith Capital.

It was Cyrus who insisted, and Robert suddenly supported him later.

Only what happened yesterday happened.

So Cyrus had no choice but to continue: "As for Smith Capital, we have no evidence that they have violated the law.

The account books and information brought back may not be all complete, or there may be some fraud in them. "

"That is to say." Robert said:

"Except for those two little shrimps, Smith Capital has no problems, is that what you mean?"

Somewhat unwillingly, Cyrus still nodded, "You can say that."

"That's fine."

Robert spoke:

"Temporarily seal the materials related to Sophia Kender and Jace Bledsoe."

"Send back Smith Capital's information and ledgers."

"This matter is over for now."

Cyrus frowned, but fortunately he didn't have to speak. This time Paige spoke.

"Mr. Morgenthau, do you mean not to prosecute Sophia Kender and Jace Bledsoe?"

"It's just temporary. We have enough information and evidence to send them to jail at any time." Robert responded to his granddaughter.

"But now is not the right time. Let's give it some time."

Peggy looked at her grandfather's serious expression, nodded slightly and said no more.

Cyrus didn't even say a word, hoping that Peggy would take the initiative to communicate with Robert.

In fact, Cyrus really regrets it now.

Cyrus felt like he was being taken advantage of.

By Robert, by some people behind Robert.

"Okay, let's leave it like this for now." Robert said.

"Cyrus, you can go out to work. Paige, you stay, I have something to tell you."

Cyrus stood up, nodded in agreement, and left without hesitation.

Paige stood up too, as she saw her grandfather standing up as well.

As a result, Robert handed Peggy the copy of today's New York Observer.

"Look at the headlines. What do you think the Wolf of Wall Street wants to do?"

Peggy took the newspaper and read the headline on the front page. She was a little surprised.

"Uh~ Okay, let me take a look." Peggy said.

Robert nodded and left his granddaughter to read the newspaper.

He himself started walking in the office, walked a few steps and walked to the window, opened the window and admired the street view outside.

Peggy read patiently, and within a few minutes she made the same judgment as her grandfather——

There's something wrong with the newspaper, Malcolm Gladwell must have been paid.

Because this is too much of a boast, not many people will believe it if they don’t charge money.

But at the same time, Paige also noticed that although many parts of this article were fictional and made up.

But there is also a lot of data that is real.

For example, Smith's donations to those charitable foundations are very accurate.

This solidified her belief that Malcolm Gladwell must have been paid to write this article.

Otherwise, this young and famous writer would not be so clear about these numbers.

She read half of it and felt that Malcolm Gladwell's writing was really good.

Just when I was about to continue reading, I suddenly heard my grandfather calling.

"Paige, come here."

Peggy turned her attention away from the paper and looked up at her grandfather.

Finding her grandfather at the window, he waved to her.

"What's wrong, grandpapa?" Peggy walked over with the newspaper.

She stood next to Robert, a head shorter than him.

Robert pointed downstairs and said softly: "You are a young man, your eyesight is better. Look over there, over there at Hanrard's Restaurant."

"Yeah." Paige looked over obediently.

The Manhattan District Attorney's Office, with offices in Upper Manhattan.

It is a 7-story building, all owned by the prosecutor's office.

Among them, Robert's office is on the third floor, where he can overlook the street view below while ensuring that the line of sight is clear enough.

"like."

Looking at the edge of the restaurant, near the prosecutor's office building.

"It seems to be Abel Smith. The one next to him also looks familiar."

"It looks familiar. That's Wayne LaPierre. You met him at your birthday party last month." Robert smiled.

"Chief Vice President and CEO of the NRA Association?" Paige was surprised.

"Yes, that's him."

Robert said: “Cyrus and you just went to his company yesterday.

Today he showed up downstairs to have dinner with LaPierre. "

"Do you think this is a coincidence?"

"No." Paige said with a serious face, "There is no such coincidence."

Robert took a deep breath. The Manhattan prosecutor especially didn't like this feeling of losing control of everything.

Downstairs, Hanrad Restaurant.

Sitting by the window on the first floor, Wayne LaPierre, CEO of the National Rifle Association, said with admiration:

“This, this is really Abel, you are such an excellent member!!

I must tell the board of directors and tell them your support and help to the association! "

The CEO of the NRA seemed a little excited.

The reason why he was excited was because of the young man in front of him just now.

Promise him that within the next six months.

The other party will donate $8 million to the NRA.

Even if the NRA is a behemoth with five million members and over $400 million in annual revenue.

A donation of eight million dollars is still a huge amount of money for the NRA.

This is equivalent to 2% of the NRA’s annual revenue, and is almost equivalent to the one-year membership dues of 400,000 Rifle Association members.

Facing the CEO, Abel smiled and said: "I am a lifelong member of the NRA Association. Now that I have the ability, I should naturally give feedback to the association."

The annual NRA membership fee is $30, and one-year renewal is only $19.99.

It is very cheap and even poor people can join.

For $1,500 you can become a lifetime member and get a leather jacket with the association's logo.

It's easy to join, which is why there are more than five million members.

This tax-exempt non-profit organization has always been very keen to participate in the American house of cards.

Its impact on both parties has always been at the forefront.

No matter who it is, as long as they want to play in the American house of cards.

We must be concerned about the NRA's attitude.

"Hahaha~" Wayne LaPierre said:

"If everyone in the NRA were like you, then the NRA would be a better place."

LaPierre said seriously: "I have decided to elect you to participate in the council election next year."

Hearing what he said, Abel smiled.

This LaPierre is really good.

It’s no wonder that he made another huge donation in addition to his previous donations of tens of thousands of dollars.

Becoming an NRA director like his father is one of the reasons why Abel invited LaPierre to have lunch today.

another purpose,

Abel raised his head and looked above the window, at a window on the third floor of the prosecutor's office next door.

Abel saw two vague figures, which made Abel couldn't help but laugh.

Melio's information is correct, the old guy's office window is here.

It was worthwhile to be here, dragging LaPierre around all morning.

Thinking of this, Abel even stretched out his hand and waved gently upward, with a leisurely and casual attitude.