The CEO

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The CEO Page 31

by Peter Ralph


  “It didn’t come from my office; I can assure you of that.”

  “Well talk to the ACCC, find out what happened, and let them know that I don’t want any more leaks,” Aspine said, well satisfied that he’d muddied the waters. Now all he had to do was wait for the inevitable call.

  Fifteen minutes later Aspine’s mobile rang and he hurriedly attached the recorder to it. “Hello,” he yawned.

  “What have you done?” Vic Garland shouted.

  “Who is this? What time is it?”

  “It’s Vic Garland. What are you up to with the ACCC?”

  “What are you talking about? Talk sense.” Aspine groaned, yawning loudly.

  “Have you read today’s Australian?”

  “Jesus, Vic, I’m still in bed. You woke me. I don’t know what you’re on about.”

  “Well get out and buy it. The ACCC’s going to launch an investigation into price fixing in the building industry, and Mercury’s the only company smelling like roses. If you’re behind this, I swear I’ll bury you,” Garland snarled.

  “Vic, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll shower and go out and buy it.”

  “Don’t worry about showering. Just get out and buy the bloody thing. If you’ve double crossed me you’ll live to regret it.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Phone me back on my prepaid after you’ve read the article. What happened to yours?”

  “Sorry, I left it at the office,” Aspine lied.

  “Jezz, how incompetent are you?”

  Aspine replayed the conversation, smirked in satisfaction, and then deleted everything after, ‘If you’ve double crossed me you’ll live to regret it’. You old bastard, Aspine thought, you screwed me, and if anyone’s going to have regrets, it’ll be you.

  Aspine phoned Charles Ong and instructed him to sell Mapago’s total shareholding in Cyber-Games, for a profit of nearly eight hundred thousand dollars. With the Philmont monies, there’d be more than six million dollars in the Hong Kong bank account, after the shares in Cyber-Games were settled. “Transfer everything in the Hong Kong account into the Swiss account, and then close the Hong Kong account. I won’t be using it again.”

  “You’ll have more than nine million dollars in the Switzerland. Would you like me to invest it for you in a secure deposit?”

  “No thanks, I don’t have any plans for it,” Aspine lied, “but when I do I’ll come back to you. Are the moles in your firm still looking to see who’s behind Mapago?”

  “Yes, and it’s getting worse.”

  “How?”

  “The auditors supposedly want to look at the file.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Yes, with a new client it’s almost unheard of.”

  “Can you hold them off for a few more days?”

  “Yes.”

  “You sound like you’re no longer concerned about Blayloch & Fitch?”

  “I’m not. What can they do, other than remove me from their list of favoured clients? I’m not worried about them.”

  Max Vogel was angry. “The ACCC’s bloody annoyed with you, Douglas.”

  “Why?”

  “They say it’s obvious who leaked, and that you’re just playing games blaming them. They said that if it happens again they’ll rescind your indemnity.”

  “It wasn’t me.”

  “Yes, Douglas,” Vogel said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “They want to see you tomorrow morning.”

  “I can’t, I have other appointments that I can’t cancel.”

  “They didn’t ask, they demanded. This is very serious. If I were you, I’d treat it that way, and I wouldn’t stuff them around.”

  “Alright, but I want you with me.”

  “That’s not a problem.”

  “Can it be at your offices?”

  “I don’t see why not. I’ll organize it for nine in the morning.”

  Aspine wasn’t worried that he’d breached Blayloch & Fitch’s trust; after all, in terms of ethics and morals, there was little difference between them and him. He was, however, concerned about how vengeful they might be after their clients sustained large losses on Mercury. With this in mind, he phoned Duncan Milgate, who was terse, and to the point. “Yes, Douglas, what is it?”

  “That’s hardly a friendly greeting.”

  “We don’t like it when our confidence is abused.”

  “Maybe I can do something to restore your confidence.”

  “I very much doubt that.”

  “I thought you were smarter than that, Duncan. I’m disappointed in you.”

  “Don’t talk in riddles,” Milgate snapped.

  “That’s the way we usually talk isn’t it?”

  The phone went quiet for twenty seconds before Milgate asked. “How’s Mercury travelling?”

  “The penny’s finally dropped.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes I did. You just didn’t hear the answer.”

  “We should sell Mercury?”

  The phone went quiet again before Aspine finally said. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “Good-bye. Oh, and Douglas, thank you. I know you did it out of self-interest, but in terms of your future, it was a very wise decision. Do we have much time?”

  “No. Good-bye, Duncan.”

  Aspine breathed a sigh of relief. Another loose end had just been tidied up.

  Blayloch & Fitch started selling almost immediately, and by the end of the day Mercury’s share price had fallen from $5.00 to $4.70.

  The two men seated at the board table in Sly & Vogel’s meeting room were fresh-faced, and appeared too young to hold positions of seniority with the ACCC. “Mr Aspine, I’m Simon Youle and this is Graham Stoddard,” said the taller of the two, extending his hand. He nodded to the recorder sitting on the table. “We intend to record this interview.”

  “That’s fine. I have a recording of my own.”

  “Yes, we’ve heard it.”

  “No, I have another one that I’m sure you’ll find interesting.”

  Max Vogel was perplexed and annoyed. “What recording?”

  “It’s a phone call I received after we spoke on Saturday morning.”

  “Don’t you think I should have heard it before now?” Vogel growled.

  “Don’t worry, Max, it’s just more of the same.”

  Youle flicked on the recording device. “Could you state your name and position?”

  “Douglas Aspine, CEO, Mercury Properties.”

  “How long have you been in that position?”

  “Nearly two years.”

  “When were you first approached about fixing the price of the apartments, and by whom?”

  “Vic Garland, about a year ago. You’ll be able to trace the phone call to my office, and that’ll tell you the date.”

  “What about other phone calls from Mr Garland?”

  “He purchased prepaid mobiles for himself and his contacts in Apartco and Urban. I don’t whether you can trace them or not, but he phoned me on my mobile and told me he was using his prepaid.”

  “Did you ever phone him?”

  “Yes, but only to negotiate the purchase of a large tract of land in Melton.”

  “Did you phone him on his prepaid phone?”

  “I can’t remember, but I can tell you the number,” Aspine said, pulling out his pocket diary. “0400 244 309.”

  “Do you have a prepaid mobile?”

  “No, I have nothing to hide.”

  “Did you ever contact Apartco or Urban?”

  “No, and I have no idea who Garland’s contacts in those companies are.”

  “Did he threaten to break Mercury if you reduced prices?”

  “You’ve heard the recording.”

  “Answer the question please, Mr Aspine,” Youle said, tapping his long slim fingers on the table.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And how did he propose to do this?”

&nb
sp; Aspine sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Unless I toed the line, Vicland, Apartco, and Urban would engage in a marketing and price war, designed to put Mercury out of business.”

  “Do you have any other evidence, such as letters, memos, and minutes of meetings?”

  “No, only the recordings.”

  “Was anyone else ever present while you were talking to Mr Garland?”

  “No, would you like to listen to the second recording?”

  “Before we play it, I’d like you to turn your recorder off,” Vogel said.

  “It’s alright, Max,” Aspine said.

  “Please turn it off,” Vogel said, staring daggers at Aspine.

  Youle reached out, and flicked off his recorder. “Let’s hear it.”

  Max Vogel looked nervous as the recording echoed around the room. When it was finished, Aspine asked, “So what do you think?”

  “Mr Garland seems to think that you leaked to The Australian. Did you?” Youle grinned.

  “No, I didn’t. Why would I?”

  “It’s obvious; you wanted to paint yourself in the best possible light. We’re not fools, and you’ll be doing yourself a favour if you don’t forget it. Let’s go back on the record,” Youle said, turning his recorder back on before Aspine could respond.

  The Federal Minister for Environment & Heritage, the Right Honorable Brian Gleeson, called a press conference in Canberra, to announce that he was blocking development of a large tract of land in Melton, Victoria, to save a rare and threatened species of marsupial related to the kangaroo. His announcement was greeted with howls of outrage from the Victorian premier, who said that the minister and the marsupial were both rats.

  Mercury’s shares were trading at $4.40 when the announcement was made, but within fifteen minutes they were $3.90 and in free-fall, as the institutions and punters rushed to sell.

  Kelly sounded stressed. “What’s happening? The phone’s going crazy. I have Sir Edwin, Harry Denton, Max V...”

  Aspine cut her off. “I’ll talk to Sir Edwin. Tell the others I’ll phone them back.”

  “Have you heard, Douglas?”

  “Yes, I’ve just got off the phone from one of the institutions.”

  “God, the shares are trading at $3.10 and tanking. What happened? Who did the due diligence before we committed to buying that bloody land?” Sir Edwin demanded, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

  “Max Vogel’s firm; they would’ve checked everything known at the time. You can’t expect them, or me, to know about pending confidential government decisions.”

  “Vic Garland knew, that’s why he sold you the land for what you thought was a bargain price. Has this got anything to do with that ACCC investigation?”

  “How could it? I only found about the bloody rats in the last hour. I doubt Garland knew, he just got lucky.”

  “You don’t believe that. Vic Garland’s a hard man, who’s spent most of his life stitching others up.”

  “Ed, I don’t remember you complaining when the Melton land acquisition was raised at the board meeting.”

  “I relied on you. I’m not being paid seven million a year to manage the company. You are!”

  “It sounds like you’re running for cover. I’m going to need your support on this.”

  “Can we use any of the land?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll find out.”

  “Ninety-five million,” Sir Edwin groaned, “ninety-five million dollars. The institutions, if there are any left as shareholders, are going to go crazy. You realize I’ll have to convene a board meeting for tomorrow morning.”

  “I thought you would. I’ll know more about the government decision by then.”

  “Hmmph, shutting the gate after the horse has bolted, are we?”

  “Let me know what time the meeting will be, Ed.”

  “Don’t forget that you have to keep the market fully informed, so you’ll need to lodge a statement with the Stock Exchange.”

  “I know. Do you think there’s anyone who doesn’t already know?” Aspine grunted.

  “Helen Philmont’s been phoning every five minutes. She sounds very angry.” Kelly said.

  “I’ll phone her, but I’m not available to anyone else for the rest of the day. Just take messages.”

  “Helen Philmont, please.”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “Douglas Aspine, returning her call.”

  “You bastard!”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “And so you bloody well should. You took our money, knowing you were going to get sacked.”

  “I knew, and know nothing of the kind.”

  “You’re joking. There’s no way Mercury can keep you and maintain any credibility, but you knew that didn’t you?” she snapped. “We can’t make you CEO of Philmont Pharmaceuticals.”

  “You already have and, if you maintain your nerve, I’ll reward you with a billion dollars in the next two years.”

  “You’re a pariah. The top end of town is already making jokes about you. ‘Would you sell a block of land to this man? I’d love to.’ If we employ you, we’ll look stupid.”

  “As I said, you already have.”

  “We’re withdrawing our offer, and want our five million back.”

  Aspine laughed. “You’re not getting your money back, and if you withdraw your offer I’ll sue you. Don’t forget, thanks to you, I’ve got plenty of money for legal fees, and if you lose, which you will, you really will look stupid.”

  The line went quiet. “Helen, you’re pissed off because the other members of your family are going to criticize you for employing me. I can add a billion to your coffers. What happened with the Melton land could’ve happened to anyone.”

  “No, it couldn’t. Vic Garland outsmarted you, and he’s letting everyone know about it. We don’t want to alienate him by employing you; he’s a very influential and powerful man.”

  Aspine felt a surge of anger. “He won’t be for much longer, I can promise you that. Helen, I intend to take up my position as we agreed. Forget Garland and think about the billion. If you support me with your family, you won’t regret it.”

  “I mightn’t have a choice,” she muttered, “but I don’t like it.”

  Aspine was amazed when Vic Garland answered his prepaid – why hadn’t the fool got rid of it? “Hello,” the gruff voice said.

  “You sold me a pup, Vic, or should that be a rat-infested piece of dirt?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes you do, and you’re boasting about it around the city. You’re going to pay big time for your treachery.”

  “So that’s why you conned the ACCC into launching their sham investigation.”

  Aspine thought Garland’s words were strange. Perhaps he’s recording he call. “I didn’t know about the fucking rats until an hour ago. I don’t know what you’re on about.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I haven’t even started on you yet, Vic. You’re going to live to regret the day you fucked with me.” Aspine snarled, before cutting Garland off.

  “Sir Edwin said to let you know that the board meeting is at nine o’clock in the morning,” Kelly said.

  - 37 -

  THE MOOD IN the boardroom was sombre. “I’ve called this board meeting because ...”

  “Ed, we all know why we’re here,” Harry interrupted “Let’s get on with it. What can we salvage, if anything?”

  “I’ve been informed that the ruling covers a little over one hundred acres, but there’s also going to be noise and disturbance restrictions over the remaining land,” Aspine responded.

  “We’re going to drop forty to fifty million plus costs. Vic Garland saw you coming,” Harry sneered. “And you thought Vicland was overstretched.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the ACCC investigation?” Sir Edwin asked.

  “Nothing,” Aspine lied. “The ACCC approached me about price fixing, long before I knew about
Melton?”

  “Is that right?” an incredulous Stan Pettit asked. “I checked to see who was selling prior to the Minister’s announcement, and your friends, Blayloch & Fitch, were heavy sellers.”

  “You knew and tipped them off,” Harry said, glaring at Aspine.

  “How could I have known?”

  “Do you still have your shares?”

  “I don’t know,” Aspine mumbled.

  “You don’t know. What kind of answer is that?” Harry growled, his steely blue eyes staring right through Aspine.

  “I transferred them to my wife as part of a pending divorce settlement. I told her not to sell, but I don’t know whether she listened to me.”

  “She didn’t,” Stan said. “I followed through the notice you lodged with the Stock Exchange, and she sold almost immediately.”

  “So you get out of this losing nothing,” Harry shouted. “What a fix-up. You and your mates get out, and everyone else is left holding the can. You know you can go to jail for insider trading.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Harry laughed. “So you think losing fifty million dollars, tipping your mates off and slipping out yourself, is not doing anything wrong? Ed, we have a duty to our shareholders to call in ASIC and the Stock Exchange to investigate our former CEO’s actions.”

  “I agree.”

  “Hear, hear,” William Claymore piped up.

  “It has to happen,” Stan Pettit said.

  “What do you mean, former CEO?” Aspine snarled, angry that Ed had turned on him.

  “You’ve got no choice but to resign,” Harry growled. “It’s the only decent thing you can do.”

  “I’m not resigning over one deal that’s gone awry. Jesus, Harry, you’d have resigned twenty times, if not making a mistake was the sole criteria for retaining your position.”

  “I never lost fifty million dollars in one transaction and, even if I had of, I wouldn’t have sold my shares, and left everyone else in the lurch. We want your resignation.”

  “You forget, I have a contract that still has over a year to run, and by my calculations it’s worth ten million.”

  “That’s including bonuses, and I think it’s safe to say you’ve seen your last bonus,” Harry scoffed. “Now you can resign, and save what little honour you have, or we can sack you, but either way you’re going today.

 

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