The CEO

by Peter Ralph

  “I can’t say the same for you,” she said, looking at his leg.

  “I’m fine; the stitches come out later this morning.”

  “Is it true, that someone tried to kill you?”

  “You know the media. They’ll say anything so long as it sells. It was an accident, that’s all.”

  “So, what are your concerns about the kids?”

  “First I think we should sort the property settlement out.”

  “No! You said you wanted to see me about the children and I agreed on the condition that the divorce and property settlement weren’t discussed. You’re not going to cheat me out of what’s rightfully mine, and my lawyer’s going to be with me for those discussions.”

  “I’m only trying to save legal fees. Those bloodsuckers will bleed you dry if you’re not careful, and we both know, it’s me who’ll really be paying them.”

  “No, I’m not discussing a settlement without my lawyer,” she said, putting her fingers into her ears. “Please leave.”

  “I’m trying to save the kids from grief, and thought you’d want to do the same.”

  “What’s the property settlement got to do with the kids?”

  “If your bloodsucker comes after me, which he will, some of your past just might come out.”

  “Don’t threaten me, I’m not the one in this family with a past, but even if I was, there’s nothing you could do about it.” She scoffed. “Haven’t you heard of ‘no fault’ divorce? Maybe you should talk to your lawyer.”

  “I haven’t briefed one and don’t expect that I’ll need to. I just don’t want to have to bring up the fling you had with your old boyfriend, Jamie Wallace, while I was slaving away in Sydney.”

  “You bastard, I went to the Wallaces dinner party, that’s all, and you know it.”

  “I wonder what Sue Wallace will think when she finds out that you’ve got the hots for her husband.”

  “You’re a filthy liar, but you don’t scare me. You can’t bring up any of your lies and slime in divorce proceedings. After twelve months separation, I’ll have all the grounds I need to have you out of my life permanently. I’m going to take you for every cent that I can.”

  Aspine ignored what she’d said. “And what about that young tennis coach you had it off with? What was his name? Maurice wasn’t it?”

  “He was only a young boy you scum. Get out of here and take your lies with you. I’m so glad that you can’t bring them up in the proceedings.”

  “And then there was the assistant professional at the golf club who gave you all those lessons. I’m sure he did more than improve your swing,” Aspine smirked.

  “Get out,” she screamed, tears of anger starting to run down her cheeks. “You can’t tell any of your disgusting lies to the court.”

  “Who said anything about the court? Can’t you see the articles in the dailies, ‘which estranged Malvern wife is having it off with a prominent Toorak plastic surgeon?’ Or ‘Malvern’s Mrs Robinson seduces boy tennis coach.’ Or can you imagine one of the evening current affairs programs airing ‘separated wife of CEO lusted after younger men.’ I wonder what your snobby girlfriends would think, not to mention Sue Wallace.”

  “Get out, get out! My lawyers will stop you from circulating that horrible filth.”

  Aspine didn’t move. “I won’t circulate it, but the people I pay will. You won’t be specifically named, everything will be by innuendo, and there’s nothing that your dopey lawyers will be able to do to stop it, without disclosing that you’re the unnamed party. Do you want that?”

  “Even you wouldn’t stoop that low.”

  “And just in case Sue Wallace and your other girlfriends can’t work out who the scarlet woman is, I’ll see they’re sent emails from anonymous Hotmail accounts naming you. And you know what they say, if you throw enough shit some will always stick,” Aspine said, through thinly drawn lips.

  “You, you wouldn’t do it,” Barbara stammered. “The kids would never forgive you.”

  “I don’t want to, and I don’t want other kids telling our kids that they’ve got a whore for a mum. I think Mark’s too young to cope, and can you imagine how embarrassed Jemma would be with her girlfriends? I’m prepared to pay you one and a half-million dollars and sign the house and car over to you completely unencumbered. It works out to nearly two and a half mil, and you know that I’m being very generous.”

  “No, I won’t accept it. Only a month ago you were boasting about making more than five million dollars this year, and now you expect me to take less than half of that, for the twenty years that we’ve been together. No, I won’t do it. I won’t!” Barbara said, tears streaming down her face.

  “Yes you will, because if I walk out of this house without your agreement, we’ll

  be at war, and people get badly hurt in wars. You’ll be lucky to have any friends in a year’s time, and the kids will disown you. I’ll instruct lawyers to prolong the proceedings for years, and in the meantime you won’t get a cent. Do you want that? I don’t think so, so let’s agree and move on with our lives.”

  “I want monthly maintenance as well!”

  “Trevor’s grown up, Jemma’s about to turn eighteen, and with one and a half million in cash you should be able to look after Mark for the next four years.”

  “You’re eve-even cheat-cheating your own kids. I-I hate you. I fel-felt sorry for you when you we-were hit by that car. Now I wis-wish you’d died.”

  “Do we have an agreement?”

  “Yes, now get out. I never want to set eyes on you again.”

  Aspine smiled cruelly. “Just make sure your bloodsuckers don’t send me any more threatening letters. Max Vogel will confirm what we’ve agreed today. Good-bye. Have a nice life.”

  “Bastard!”

  As Aspine drove away he knew that he could move onto his next phase of wealth creation without having to worry about Barbara.

  “Douglas, Mr Kendall’s waiting for you,” Kelly said, as he walked past her office.

  “Phil, good to see you,” Aspine said, grasping his hand like he was a long lost brother. “Come into my office.”

  “Good morning, Doug. I’ll go over these documents with you, and get your signature, then I can let you have this,” Kendall said, placing a cheque made payable to Mercury Properties Ltd, for eleven million three hundred and seventy five thousand dollars, on the desk.

  Aspine laughed.

  “What’s funny?”

  “That cheque’s more than a hundred times larger than what you wouldn’t lend me eighteen months ago. Ironic isn’t it?”

  “I thought we’d finished with that.”

  “And so we have. I’m sorry,” Aspine said, without sincerity. “Bear with me Phil, I have to make a call that’s nearly as important for you as it is for me.”

  “Duncan, it’s Douglas Aspine. What are our shares trading at?”

  “There’s been strong demand and the last trade went through at $5.20.”

  “That’s great. Sell three million shares for me at market.”

  “Why are you selling so many?”

  “I have to repay the bank loan of eleven million dollars, and I’ll have another four million in tax to pay.”

  “The tax won’t be anything like four million and, besides, you’ll have a year before you have to pay it. You only need to sell a little over two million shares to repay the bank. You can sell more when your tax falls due.”

  “Duncan, I’ve told you about my other problems, and you know that I have no money, so just do what I’ve asked you to,” Aspine snapped.

  “If you insist, Douglas. Don’t forget to lodge the appropriate notices with the Stock Exchange.”

  “I know.”

  “Problems?” Kendall asked.

  “No Phil, just a stockbroker who likes hearing his own voice.”

  Aspine had made nearly seven million dollars from the options, but after paying tax, and the divorce settlement of two and a half million to Barbara he’d be
lucky to end up with two million. Fuck! He’d been far too generous with her. As he pondered the unfairness of paying tax and Barbara, he thought about the other three million he’d salted away in Hong Kong and Switzerland and decided that he needed to increase it.

  - 31 -

  “CHARLES, IT’S DOUGLAS Aspine. I want you to buy a million shares in Cyber-Games Ltd. They’re trading at $1.02 and you can go to $1.15 if necessary to fill my order.”

  “I assume this is another Blayloch & Fitch recommendation?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you think it’d be prudent to wait for another recommendation a little further down the road?”

  “I thought about that. What if they find out that it was me who traded Clean Energy? I won’t be on their preferred client list any longer, and won’t be getting any more tips. No, I want to buy what I can, while I can.”

  “They’ll be very upset, and no doubt intensify their efforts to find out who’s abusing their information.”

  “I know. I want you to instruct a local broker and swear him to secrecy. Then get him to place orders through three smaller Australian brokers none of which are based in Melbourne. I want to make it as difficult as I can for Blayloch & Fitch to find out who’s behind the buying.”

  “I understand, Douglas. Phone me tomorrow, and I’ll let you know if your order’s been filled.”

  Max Vogel was subdued as he related the coroner’s findings to Aspine. “You’re going to have to improve the control of vehicles on your building sites and quarries, and you should do it immediately.”

  “Yes, of course. What about criminal action?”

  “The coroner found that Bert Stuart partially contributed to his own demise by removing his hearing-aid. He made no recommendations regarding criminal action against the company’s executives.”

  “Hallelujah! Hell, Max, why are you so downbeat? That’s great news.”

  “Stuart’s son, John, took it very hard and abused the coroner. He called you a murderer. It was one of the most violent outbursts that I’ve ever witnessed in any judicial forum. I’d be careful if I were you.”

  John was nearly bald and wore large glasses. Was he the one who tried to kill me? “Don’t worry; I’ll be on guard. God, that’s good news and an enormous relief. I thought that you might be fighting to keep me out of jail.”

  “I still might. There’s still some possibility of criminal action, and there’ll certainly be a civil suit.”

  “Cheer up, Max. I’m not worried about civil action, and the coroner’s buried any chance of criminal charges.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  The voice on the end of Aspine’s mobile was refined. “Mr Aspine, it’s Hamish Gidley-Baird from Sainsbury & Co. We didn’t meet, but you applied for the Genilab position with us, through one of my partners.”

  “Hell, Hamish, I’m surprised you don’t know, but I already have a job,” Aspine sarcastically responded.

  “We know. We know all about you, Mr Aspine. You’ve done a fine job at Mercury, and we have a client who could use your services.”

  “A public company?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m on a very lucrative package.”

  “We’re prepared to significantly exceed your current remuneration.”

  “I don’t think so, but thanks anyhow.”

  “I’ll give you my private line and mobile numbers. Phone me if you’d like to meet.”

  “I’m flattered, Hamish, but I’ve got a job to finish.”

  “You really should see what we’re prepared to offer. Don’t be shy about phoning if you have a change of mind.”

  “I won’t.”

  Tom Donegan rarely displayed emotion but he could barely contain his excitement. “Douglas, I have some information about Barry Seymour that I’m sure will interest you. When can we meet?”

  “Why don’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “I’ve got a few documents that I think you’d like to see.”

  “Fuck, Tom, just tell me what you’ve got.”

  “Jeez, calm down. He borrowed heavily to take control of Channel Sixteen nearly thirty years ago, but it was losing money − heavily.”

  “So he wasn’t receiving any dividends, but he still had to pay the interest on his loans.”

  “That’s right, so he embarked on a slash and burn campaign, and sacked half the workforce.”

  “What a bloody hypocrite!”

  “I wouldn’t say that, because he’s not the one who’s gone after you. Anyhow, when he eventually needed more staff, he hired some of those that he’d got rid of on a contract basis, at half the rates that they’d previously been paid. The unions went ape shit for a while, but then they went quiet.”

  “He must have paid them off.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not all. Channel Sixteen hired helicopters for its news team, and one crashed, killing the pilot and four researchers.”

  “How does that help me?”

  “They denied any liability in respect of the deaths of researchers, because they were all supposedly independent contractors. Obviously their insurers instructed them not to admit liability, and there was an almighty shit fight that ended up in the Supreme Court, where the judge found against Channel Sixteen. Not only that, he was scathing in his judgment and condemned the company, and its management, for its bloody-minded and uncaring attitude to the families of the deceased. I’ve got a copy of the judgment if you’re interested.”

  “Oh, I’m interested, very interested.” Aspine laughed. “That’s fantastic.”

  “There’s more. He was involved in a very messy divorce and not only disowned his wife, but their only daughter. The girl became seriously addicted to drugs in her early teens, and she’s been in and out of drug rehabilitation clinics ever since. According to the ex-wife, he hasn’t seen the girl in fifteen years, but he does pay for her treatment.”

  “Pays for her to remain hidden, and not embarrass him don’t you mean?”

  “Yeah, I thought the same.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I might want to get some pics of the girl and the clinic that she’s in.”

  “The media won’t gang up on their own, not at ownership level anyhow. You’re not going to get the mainstream media to run with this. It’s yesterday’s news,” Donegan croaked.

  “You don’t understand the power of the internet, Tom. When the time is right, I’ll anonymously get into half a dozen chat rooms with the story and pics of the girl, and I’ll make it today’s news. Did you find out anything more about that bitch, Jeczik?”

  “Nothing, she’s squeaky clean. As I told you, she visits her alcoholic father at the Fairhills Nursing Home every week, but he can barely put two words together.”

  “Maybe I should visit him. I could leave him with a bottle of Jack Daniels as a gift.”

  “Be careful, you’ve seen how dangerous she can be.”

  “I was joking. Can you to get me the name of another Fairhills patient, preferably nearly comatose?”

  “I’m not with you.”

  “I might like to visit my new found friend, at the same time the bitch is visiting her drunken old man.”

  “She won’t be easily intimidated.”

  “We’ll see. Keep digging on her. Everyone’s got hidden skeletons. You just haven’t found hers yet. Talk to her old boyfriends. They’re always a rich source of spleen.”

  “Mr Bracken’s been holding for nearly five minutes,” Kelly said, “he sounds stressed.”

  “What’s up, Wes?”

  “Douglas, do you remember asking me to prepare the press releases on your land acquisition in Melton?”

  “I’m not bloody senile. Of course I do. Get to the point.”

  “I’ve just had a phone call from a close contact in Canberra. You’re going to have problems. It seems that the land you’ve acquired is the habitat of a rare and endangered species of rat. The Minister
for the Environment is going to hand down a decision in the next four weeks ensuring their survival.”

  “They’re going to stop my development for a fucking rat?”

  “It’s a behind the scenes deal that the Federal Government’s doing with the Greens to stick it up the State Government. It’s what you and I would call a rat, but to the Greens it’s the smallest native marsupial.”

  “I know who the fucking rat is,” Aspine snarled, thinking about Vic Garland. “Who else knows about it?”

  “It’s very hush-hush. The Federal Government’s keeping a lid on it, pending a major announcement on development by the Victorian premier. The Feds will make their announcement later on the same day, and it’ll be designed to make the premier and State Government look stupid.”

  Aspine had no doubt that Vic Garland knew what the Feds had planned when he’d sold him the Melton land at a seemingly bargain basement price. Old bastard! He also knew that Mercury’s share price would plummet when the Minister made his announcement.

  “Wes, listen to me very carefully. You never told me anything about endangered rats or the land at Melton. It never happened. Do you understand − this call never occurred.”

  “What call?” Wes laughed.

  Aspine still had 500,000 shares in Mercury worth more than two and a half million. After the Minister’s announcement he wouldn’t get half of that, and he’d be lucky to have a job. Because he was a director he couldn’t sell without making an announcement to the market, and if he sold it’d be treated as a lack of confidence in Mercury. He felt trapped and waves of anger swept over him when he thought of how he’d been sucker punched by Vic Garland. Any aspirations of numerous non-executive director positions in other public companies had just been killed. He felt a pounding in his temples and the onset of another savage migraine coming on.

  Kerry Bartlett knocked nervously at Aspine’s door. His eyes were red and he looked exhausted. “Come in, Kerry,” Aspine snarled, his mind still on Vic Garland. “I wanted to talk to you about your bonus,” he said, softening his tone, as he wrestled with the thumping in his head.