Three

" Then why were you selling?"

" Getting rid of the dogs

. Low beta stocks." Coz sighed.

"The market goes through the roof, and those stocks move up a snappy eighth. They act like they're frozen."

Ucciarde gave Coz a funny look. Coz was not a man ever to own low beta stocks. Who was he kidding?

" So you were dumping the lowbetas?"

" Yeah. This is a market to take in the chips on the high betas."

"My kind of stocks, too. High betas. Like a great woman. Responsive. Goes along with a man's mood. Never keeps you waiting."

"Right. When the market flies, they fly higher."

" So it's full steam ahead with the light betas? Of course, if bad news breaks, high betas can kill you. High beta stocks are the first to drop through the floor."

"What bad news? The sun will rise in the East ."

Coz's voice came sa close as it ever did to sounding cheerful. He enjoyed the disbelief in Ucciarde's eyes.

"No recommendations from your analysts to eliminate certain holdings? Unforseen new development, as they like to say,"

"Just the low beta stocks. You worry too much. God's in his heaven and looking out for us." Ucciarde ducked his head to hide his dismay. Coz was such a poor liar.

Too fast when he had no ready answer. Too positive when he had one prepared. And that crap about dumping low beta stocks. What low betas?

"Well, you know the old saying," Ucciarde muttered. "Buy on Rosh Haslianah. Sell on Yom Kippur."

"No, it isn't," Coz agreed with absolute confidence. Then he had nothing more to say. He knew his signal had been picked up.

"Guess it's time to rest my oars."

"Guess so." Ucciarde drew in a breath to say good night, but Coz was gone. Tom Ucciarde had never seen a man who could disappear so fast in a crowd.

On his way to his office, Herbert Coz thought about his sister, Doris. He always thought about Doris after he'd pulled off one of his bigger stock manipulations. When her husband died and left Doris with a small portfolio of stocks, Coz had begged her to let him manage it for her. But Doris was adamant. Her husband, Harold, had been a psychotherapist------a college man-----and always used a particular broker, Eric Hefflin, who had gone to college with him.

Doris didn't hesitate to point out that Coz had never gone to college. How could he know more than Eric Hefflin? Hefflin read detailed reports on the market. He told Doris about giant computers wires to CRTs and high-speed printers which produced, at breathtaking speed, research reports on every listed stock.

These reports were prepared by sophisticated analyst, then reinterpreted by the knowledgeable Hefflin. Who gave Doris his expert opinions on what to buy and when to buy or sell.

How could Coz argue with statistics, tables, fundamentals?

Coz was only a floor trader. An " executor," as they called him. He just executed orders. What did he know?

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