The Scarlatti Inheritance(13)

This was all Giovanni Scarlatti needed. Mathematics is a pure science, and never was this more apparent. Already possessing representation in eleven paper firms in Illinois, Ohio, and western Pennsylvania, and owning pattents on thirty-seven different operating assemblies, Giovanni Scarlatti called a conference of the firms accountable to him. In what amounted to a slaughter of the uninformed, Giovanni suggested that a desirable course of action was the formation of one parent organization with himself and his wife as the principal stockholders.

Everyone would, of course, be well taken care of, and the single company would expand beyond their wildest dreams under his inventive genius.

If they didn’t agree, they could take his machines out of their factories. He was a poor immigrant who had been deviously misled in his initial negotiations. The royalties paid for his designs were ridiculous in light of the profits. Also in several cases individual stocks had risen astronomically and by the terms of his contracts those particular firms had to make his options available at the previous stock prices. When one came right down to it, Giovanni Scarlatti was a major stockholder in a number of established paper companies.

Howls were heard in boardrooms throughout the three states. Impetuous challenges were flung at the arrogant Italian only to be muted by wiser legal counsel. Better a merging survival than isolated destruction. Scarlatti might be defeated in the courts, but it was quite possible that he might not be. In that latter event his demands could be excessive, and if rejected, the cost of retooling and loss of supply would plunge many of the firms into disastrous financial territory. Besides Scarlatti was a genius, and they all might do rather well.

So the mammoth Scarlatti Industries was formed, and the empire of Giovanni Merighi Scarlatti was born.

It was as its master—sprawling, energetic, insatiable. As his curiosity diversified, so did his companies. From paper it was an easy leap into packaging; from packaging into hauling and freight; from transportation into produce. And always a better idea came along with the purchase.

By the year 1904, after twelve years of marriage, Elizabeth Wyckham Scarlatti decided that it was prudent for her and her husband to go east. Although her husband’s fortunes were secure and growing daily, his popularity was scarcely enviable. Among the financial powers of Chicago, Giovanni was the living proof of the Monroe Doctrine. The Irish were disagreeable, but this was intolerable.

Elizabeth’s father and mother died; what few social loyalties that remained for her went with them. The consensus of the households of her lifelong friends was described by Franklyn Fowler, recently of Fowler Paper Products:

“That black wop may own the mortgage on the club’s building, but we’ll be damned if we’ll let him become a member!”

This general attitude had no effect on Giovanni, for he had neither the time nor the inclination for such indulgences. Neither did Elizabeth, for she had become Giovanni’s partner in far more than the marriage bed. She was his censor, his sounding board, his constant interpreter of shaded meanings. But she differed from her husband regarding their banishment from the more normal social pursuits. Not for herself, but for the children.

Elizabeth and Giovanni had been blessed with three sons. They were Roland Wyckham, age nine; Chancellor Drew, eight; and Ulster Stewart, seven. And although they were only boys, Elizabeth saw the effects the family’s ostracism was having on them. They attended the exclusive Evanston School for Boys, but except for their daily school associations, they saw no boys but each other. They were never asked to birthday parties but always told about them on the following days; invitations proferred to their classmates were invariably coolly received by calls from governesses; and, perhaps most cutting of all, was the repetitive ditty that greeted the boys each morning as they arrived:

“Scarlatti, spaghetti! Scarlatti, spaghetti!”

Elizabeth made up her mind that they should all have a fresh start. Even Giovanni and herself. She knew they could afford it even if it meant going back to his native Italy and buying Rome.

Instead of Rome, however, Elizabeth took a trip to New York City and discovered something quite unexpected.

New York was a very provincial town. Its interests were insular, and among those in the business world the reputation of Giovanni Merighi Scarlatti had taken a rather unusual twist; they weren’t sure who he was other than the fact that he was an Italian inventor who had purchased a number of American companies in the Midwest.

Italian inventor. American companies.

Elizabeth found also that some of the more astute men on Wall Street believed Scarlatti’s money had come from one of the Italian ship lines. After all, he’d married the daughter of one of Chicago’s best families.