The Mystery Man Of Finance

It is Friday afternoon at the Republic Bank Tower on 40th Street in Manhattan, and the deepening winter shadows signal the approach of the Sabbath. Soon, it will be forbidden for devout Jews to transact business, to do work of any kind, or to ride--even in an elevator. For 24 hours, Edmond J. Safra will cut himself off from his worldwide banking empire--a $50 billion colossus whose granite strength, explosive growth, and almost Merlin-like avoidance of the troubles that have beset the banking world make Safra the envy of global finance.

Edmond Safra does use elevators on the Sabbath, but it bothers him. Not doing so, however, would be difficult. A private elevator, its carpet inscribed with the Safra family emblem, rises to the 28th floor of the Republic Bank Tower. Yet another elevator carries him to his private sanctum on the floor above. He takes his place at the head of a 200-year-old mahogany table in his private dining room. Hanging above it is an 18th century crystal chandelier, and on the wall is an oil-on-canvas from 1843, The Judge and Jury Society in the Cider Cellar by A.S. Henning.