“Avery,” she said, proudly remembering to use his preferred name, “speaking of assets, why did we have to leave my condo in Kirkland?”
“We didn’t leave it. You know I purchased your condo in the Dannenberg Trust name, right?”
“No. I didn’t know. Then that does make sense. I couldn’t understand why you’d just walk away from a million-dollar property like that.”
“Not to worry your sweet face, it’s handled. Before leaving Bellevue, I hired an agent and listed the condominium for one point two million. She will sell it and forward the funds to the trust, of which you are joint trustee, my dear. Now, back to my original suggestion. Will you have me as your wedded husband, Mrs. Dannenberg?”
“Oh, Benn…I mean, Avery, you know I will. That will make me a very happy woman.”
“I think we should seek out a justice of the peace and make this union permanent. Are you ready?”
“Yes, darling, I’m ready to be your wife, but I think we should put on some clothes first.”
At the restaurant, Dallas greeted his hired killer. “So, we meet again, my friend.”
The Assassin replied, “Yes, I am here, but I am not your friend. People in my line of work do not seek friendship or long-term relationships. I’m sure you understand. I need the details of this contract. You told me this person works for the same firm as the others, but no more. Do you have the background materials?”
Dallas reached down to retrieve a manila envelope from his open lawyer’s catalog case where he’d left it. “Here is almost everything you will need.”
“Almost? It seems you are repeating a dangerous omission. Why not everything I will need?”
“There is a small matter I’ve not yet concluded. The target has registered at the hotel as Avery Dannenberg. His real name is Bennie Rubens. All of that is in the envelope. What is not in the report is that…he is my younger brother.”
“You give me a contract for your own brother? Why?”
“He owes me a great deal of money and is planning to stiff me, which is his way. Even as children, Bennie found ways to cheat me, to show up his older brother. He is a hateful man and well deserves your vengeance.”
“I do not seek vengeance, not for anything or anyone. This is simply my profession. You pay me to do a thing, I do it. We are both satisfied.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Another thing not in the background materials: Bennie is traveling with a young woman. She has a small brown leather case full of cash. That case and the woman are both with him in his penthouse suite. I want you to bring me the suitcase after the assignment. If you need to sanction the woman, that’s okay, at your discretion. You will be paid for her the same as the whore in Chicago, okay?”
The Assassin was angry. He didn’t mind taking money from this poorly groomed, otherwise unremarkable person, but he would not tolerate disrespect.
“No! I will not steal the suitcase. I am not a thief, Dallas. I have professional standards from which I will not deviate. You’ve just asked me to violate those standards, and that makes me very angry. You do not want me to be angry with you, Dallas, trust me on that. No. If you want it, go and get it after I have performed the service for which you have paid.”
Dallas was taken aback. What the hell is with this ethical disparity shit? “You’re a hired killer, but not a thief? Clearly I don’t appreciate the hierarchy of your craft, or profession or gig or whatever. You are paid to take what is not yours, like someone’s life. That is like a cat burglar resenting the street pickpocket.” This Assassin’s logic escapes me. If this killer refused my request, then I will claim it myself. After Bennie is dead, Slocum will have no reason to withhold his signature from my access to the trust fund accounts. Slocum will be persuaded—by sharing in some proceeds. Dallas pondered the situation. “All right, never mind. I’ll handle it myself.” The compelling fact was that there was so much money in those accounts, and it would soon be his.
Twenty-seven
“Necessity of action takes away the fear of the act and makes bold resolution the favorite of fortune.” ~ Quarles
FRIDAY—DECEMBER | The agreement among the Bellevue Five and CapVest Corporation gave tacit permission to Tommy and Wainwright to enter the hallowed halls of the headquarters without an armed escort at Bellevue’s nicest high-rise. Actually, most employees in the building were on good terms with the surviving Musketeers. Tommy and Wainwright were generally well thought of on Bellevue Way.
One small pleasure on their visits north for the two so-called SoCal cowboys was rain. It rains so infrequently in the LA basin. Experiencing a rainstorm in Seattle was a rare and pleasurable undertaking for them as they left the rental and dashed for the entrance. They should have been jumping for joy, as this storm stalled over Puget Sound was a big one. Rain was coming down fast in big drops with very little space between them. Wainwright supposed Green is good. “Tommy, how about we grab some coffee and a roll before we see Hockney? After all, the cafeteria belongs to us now,” he said with a smile plastered across his bearded face.
“Sure.”
“Try to hold off a bit of enthusiasm, okay? It’s not good for your heart to get over-excited like that,” Wainwright said, taking a seat in the cafeteria a high-priced designer had decked out in the fashion of a men’s club rather than the utilitarian self-service restaurant it was.
“Yeah, but you know I take no joy in any of this. It’s just that… I don’t know…just so wrong, all of it, so wrong.”
“Tommy, nobody feels happiness from the downfall of our former friends, but they brought all this grief on themselves. If you stop to think about it, the Five have personified the seven deadly sins, the cardinal sins of biblical fame. Look at it this way: Arnold and his gluttony, Hockney’s sloth, Bennie with all of his pride, Borstad, who embraced greed—big time GREED. Then, of course, we have Brother Meyer’s wrath for anyone who didn’t bow to his ideas and authority.”
“Interesting theory, Garth, but I count five deadly sins. What happened to…what were the other two?”
“Right…right. Lust and envy. I’m still working on it.” Looking at his watch, Wainwright said, “Hey, we’d better boogie, it’s getting late.”
The idea that Tommy and Wainwright appointed themselves representatives of the Capital Vested Corporation to rid the company of its majority shareholders and founding executives was ludicrous, at best. But they had the agreement authorizing that exactly. They were five minutes late for their eight thirty meet-up with Ed Hockney when the elevator opened on twenty. “Hey, Ed, how’re ya doin’?”
“Hi, guys. Come in and take a seat. Let me finish off this note before we get started. Want to grab a cup of coffee first?”
The two Musketeers’ follow-on coffee was only to kill time until Hockney finished. Back from the coffee room, cups in hand, they took their familiar seats in front of Hockney’s big desk. They knew Hockney never drank coffee, substituting half a dozen diet colas every day instead. Wainwright thought Hockney looked older. Maybe the right word was “haggard,” with more gray at the temples. Certainly his face was carved with deeper canyons and creases. What they’d all been through in the past months aged everyone. It had given Wainwright a perspective on the human condition no graduate medical curriculum could emulate.
Hockney put down his reading material and looked over the top of his glasses at his two guests. “Not a happy place around here anymore, is it?”
Tommy said, “Ed, we take no pleasure in the part we’ve played in this situation. You know that, I hope.”
“Yes, of course, I do. I think I’ve gained from the experience in some unexpected ways. For example, losing Arnold like that. I never acknowledged just how much I cared for the man. I miss him very much.” No one spoke for several minutes, respecting the fact he seemed lost in grief.
“Ed, we’re very sorry for the loss all of us are experiencing, but don’t you think the man who helped you build this company had changed drastically in the last several m
onths? Everyone else was aware of it. You must have been, being closer to him than any of us.”
“Not sure how you mean that, Garth.”
“Arnold died of an overdose of illegal drugs, Ed. You do realize that, don’t you? And you took the same drugs with him.”
“Listen here—this was no recreational thing. Arnold’s psychiatrist prescribed the drug, given to him in a controlled setting. Arnold was so impressed with the results he recommended it to Herb and me as friends. It works; it truly is a miracle drug, Garth.”
“I’m not convinced, but then I don’t need to be. None of us does. If he could, I don’t think Arnold would endorse your recommendation right now, do you, Ed?”
With a snort of dissent, Hockney said, “I’ve had enough of this conversation. It’s not productive. Let’s move on with the status report, shall we?”
Tommy recapped the past conversations. “Okay, Arnold committed suicide a week ago. Bennie went missing two days after Arnold’s death. When is Borstad going to pull the plug and retire?”
“He already did. He resigned with a letter left on his secretary’s desk. No notice to anyone here. Let me see, I have a copy of it here someplace.” He thumbed through the loose pages piled at the side of his desk.
Tommy said, “Okay, so of the Five, that leaves you and Meyer. What can you tell us about Herb’s schedule? We need to coordinate some press releases explaining what is going on in the best possible terms. You no doubt have noticed how much of a hit our REIT shares have taken on the NYSE. They’re down almost twenty percent from a year ago.”
“Funny thing, Tommy, since I no longer own them, I really don’t care anymore about the stock market.” Hockney looked back to Wainwright and Tommy. “Herb thought he was going to have a position with Jake Weinstein, but it didn’t materialize. Jake’s daughter, Heather, is seeking a divorce from Herb, so he decided to move out of state, get all this behind him. He is in Wyoming dealing in ranch properties, so it’s just me now.” He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m the only one left.”
Wainwright ignored Hockney’s sigh and said, “Oh, I think that’s a perfect place for Mr. Meyer—out in big sky country slinging horseshit. Outstanding!”
“Montana. Big sky country is Montana, not Wyoming. Wyoming is the Equality State, Garth,” Tommy pointed out.
“Yeah, sure. Six of one… And you, Ed, what are your plans?”
“You know, I come in here every day and sit at this desk and do not one real fruitful thing. I mope around here trying to be productive…and I can’t. I just don’t have it in me anymore. The fire is gone, and now Arnold…. Everyone important to me at this firm is either dead or left it…or bringing a legal action against me. I just can’t do this anymore.”
Wainwright stood and moved to the side of Hockney’s desk, placing his right hand on the chairman’s shoulder. “Ed, every one of us have benefited from your vision and leadership over the years. We understand your ambivalence about the work, but the firm must have leadership, especially now. We have to keep our ship afloat in these troubled waters. After what’s happened, and your current emotional state, there is just one person who could possibly fill your shoes, and that person is sitting in front of you. Tommy Shaw has the demeanor, the intellect, and the varied experiences to do your job. Do you agree that what I’m saying is accurate?”
Finally, Hockney stopped staring at his desktop and looked up at Tommy. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he smiled. Well, for him it was a smile. “Yes, Tommy is well qualified. No questions about it, if you want the job, Tommy, you have my blessings, as well as condolences.”
Tommy sat, somewhat stunned by the words he just heard from his long-time leader, and then stared at Wainwright. His facial expression was a cross between, I’m honored to accept this award on behalf of… and What the fuck you doin’ to me?
Wainwright turned to his partner. “When we got into all this, our purpose was to save CapVest. I’m still a believer in that, and in you. I know you can do this, Tommy—run the company to save it for everyone. Robert Keating would be the first to endorse and support you as CEO.” Turning to Hockney, Wainwright added, “Ed, you are still the chairman. Will you appoint Tommy as acting CEO until the new board can be convened?”
Hockney looked to the still-stunned Musketeer. That John Wayne-like smile crossed his face again. Wainwright half expected his next words to be ‘Well, pilgrim, let’s get this here wagon train a movin’.’ “Tommy, congratulations. I think this company and everyone in it are fortunate you’ll take responsibility for her.”
Tommy still had not said word one as they left Ed Hockney and went down the stairs to find General Counsel Thompson’s office. “You gonna be okay, good buddy?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m thinking about everything that needs to be done and, thanks to your sabotage, I’m the one on the spot to make it happen. It’s overwhelming…it is consuming. I’ve never felt so small and ineffectual in all my life.”
Andrew was behind his desk with file folders piled on top of other piles. On the adjacent table to his left, there were more files. He looked up, did a double take, and motioned them in. “Hey, guys. Congratulations, Tommy. Hockney just called and gave me the news. Believe me, we’re looking forward to your leadership here. God knows we need it now more than ever!”
“Thank you, Andrew. I’ll count on your help to get us moving in the right direction after all this is history, and you know I really do appreciate you spending your holiday time in here. So, where are we with regard to the buy-backs and resignations?”
“See these file piles? That’s pretty much where we are. I can’t ask any of the other attorneys for help, ’cause all this stuff is confidential, as is the agreement from the Five, so it falls to me as GC. I’d guess I’m closer to the finish than the start. I have a list of shareholders and a letter to each that they immediately surrender CapVest or All Cities stock on demand in exchange for the purchase price stipulated in the agreement,” Andrew stated.
It had been a long day when Tommy and his helpful pal left the building at six thirty, bidding Hank’s stand-in a good night. They got into their rental parked in a visitor’s slot. Before Tommy started the ignition, he looked at Wainwright. “I don’t believe any of this yet, you know?”
“Got a better solution than you to be CEO?”
He looked back to the dashboard, shook his head, and turned the key. The engine sputtered to life and he backed out of the stall to head toward the Wollcott.
“By the end of next week, the world will know the Five are gone, one way or ’tuther, and that you have been installed by the board as CEO. They will also know CapVest has reacquired control of All Cities and its seven thousand employees, plus hands-on control of all properties. Not a bad week’s work, Tommy.”
“Let’s let all this stuff cook for a spell. I’m up for a thick steak and a good glass of cabernet, how about you?”
“What kind of friend would I be to argue with the CEO on his first day on the job?”
When Wainwright and his new CEO made their Saturday morning appearance at the office, the rainstorm persisted in pouring her bounty on the drenched north. Wainwright and Tommy shared one umbrella as they ran to the front doors of the building. To his credit, and the Musketeers’ gratitude, Andrew Thompson was at his desk at 9:00 a.m.
“Good morning, Andrew. I’m happy to see you functioning so early on this soggy Saturday. Any change in plans from your earlier forecast?”
“We’re on it. Next Friday is the day, for sure. We’ll have all the legal work done. If I hit a snag, I’ll yell out loud and clear.”
Tommy raised a clenched fist over his head. “Outstanding, my man. Thank you, Andrew.”
The pair took the stairs to the twentieth floor from Andrew’s legal department on nineteen. They intended to set up shop and work in the small conference room. As they passed Hockney’s spartan space, Wainwright noticed it seemed deserted. What few personal things Hockney kept in the
office were missing. “After we left him yesterday, Hockney must have cleaned out his stuff and split.”
Tommy asked, “And tell me, Garth, what possible reasons did Ed have to stay?”
The weekend was full of things large and little that needed thinking through. People would be promoted, some fired, and many would eventually be reassigned within the two large complex organizations. Wainwright thought of Arnold’s exceptional abilities at chess. He and Tommy were playing a real world game now, with people instead of pawns, knights, and bishops. But not everyone wins at chess—or in life either, for that matter.
Sunday evening, Tommy and Wainwright drove without conversation to the hotel after another of the never-ending days of drudgery. Both men were exhausted from concentrating on the reorganization of these two companies. They left the with the valet and dragged themselves into the lobby of the Hyatt. They had pointed their worn-out bodies toward the elevator lobby when Tommy heard a familiar voice behind them.
“Hey, sailor, want to buy a lady a drink?”
They both turned to the voice from the lobby bar. Tommy immediately got a big, happy smile on his face. The cares and worries of the day slipped away as he stepped to embrace Shirley. She stood in the open space holding a martini glass high in hand as in a toast.
Behind her was Lacey, smiling and staring straight at Wainwright. He went to her and put his arms around this woman who had so suddenly changed his life. “Hi, babe, I’m so very glad you’re here,” he said. He kissed her there in the bar, not caring if some might see. He held Lacey for a long time before he relented and stepped back by her side as they both turned to face Tommy and Shirley.
“We brought some new clothes for you guys.”
Shirley said, “Figured you could use a change. We put the bags in your rooms. Do you want to shower and change and get some dinner?”
Mystery and Suspense:The Tipping Point: A mystery thriller full of intrigue about greed, fraud and murder... (International Mystery: Book 1) Page 25