Kane by Steve Gannon Page A

with light.
    Like spokes of a wheel, a configuration of desks, counters, and shoulder-high partitions divided the space into three areas.  Most prominent, a central, U-shaped desk dominated the assembly, its surface ringed by twenty-seven-inch computer monitors, along with a multiple-line phone terminal that he used to access the options trading floors of Chicago and New York.  Two lesser workstations jutted from the main desk.  The left branch, Carns’s “weather station,” harbored a computer terminal capable of serving up global weather forecasts, pest and crop reports, an AP wire feed, and an assortment of agricultural newsletters.  The right wing, which served as a research center, contained a combination copier, scanner, and fax machine, a bookcase, and two additional computer screens—both displaying programs that Carns used for technical analysis.
    Long ago, when he’d first begun futures trading, Carns had realized that up-to-the-minute information provided an immeasurable edge over the field.  As a result he spent over a hundred thousand dollars yearly on fundamental data, information that included regular reports from certain feed-yard employees in Kansas, Texas, and southern Nebraska—some of it illegal.  Recently his expenditure in this latter category had more than proved its worth.
    Before starting his workday, Carns stepped into an auxiliary kitchen off the main office and poured a mug of black coffee from a pot preset to brew at 4:40 AM.  Next he toasted an English muffin and ate it with a glass of tomato juice, precisely as he did every weekday morning.  Coffee in hand, he moved to the Data Transmission Network weather screen and pulled up precipitation forecasts for various regions of crop production, checking the current six-to-ten-day forecast for each locale.  That done, he crossed to the research station for a review of overnight currency moves, also spending time studying commodity reports he had requested on Friday.
    Forty-five minutes later, following a regimented schedule, Carns shifted to a review of crop charts, concentrating on recent moves in soybeans.  But as he studied the graphs, his mind drifted to the cattle market, the area in which he presently held his biggest position.  Unable to concentrate on other matters, he allowed his thoughts to turn to the disastrous slide cattle futures had suffered over previous weeks.  Although the market still showed signs of heading even lower, he had begun closing out his “short” contracts last Thursday.  The remainder would take days to unload, but if nothing went awry, he stood to make money.  A lot of money.
    At 5:19 AM, Carns moved to his trading desk.  Sixty seconds later he began his day, concentrating on the markets as they opened in turn:  bonds, currency, and metals during the first hour, stock-index futures at six-thirty, cattle and hogs a half hour later, then finally grains.  Working straight through the morning, he spent considerable time on the telephone conversing with industry sources and representatives on the trading floors, his demeanor curt and concise, revealing nothing of the man behind the voice.
    During this time Carns also placed occasional orders, meticulously stamping a trade ticket for each.  For the most part, however, his attention remained riveted on five computer monitors perched like oracles atop his desk, serving up a tick-by-tick spreadsheet of his positions, as well as market overviews, position quotes, and real-time pricing information on selected commodities, stock indexes, and foreign exchange futures.  On one of the screens he occasionally watched CNN and CNBC to keep himself apprised of breaking financial news, and partway through the morning something on one of the news stations caught his eye.  As he turned to the screen, a map of Southern California flashed up behind the news anchor’s desk.  The display abruptly zoomed in on Los Angeles, with Pacific Palisades delineated in