Brian thought about that. It seemed fair – if he failed to tell Nicole things she needed to know she should have the right to dump him as a client. Then he thought about a movie he’d recently watched. On the witness stand, the prosecution exposed the defendant – he’d been lying all along. His own attorney stood, pointed a finger at the witness stand and yelled, “You lied to me!”
What if I accidentally forgot something, and Nicole dumped me as a client right there in the courtroom? Mulling it over, he decided he would deal as openly as possible with her, and this would all work out. Brian was an optimist. He always saw the glass as half full. I can do this, he said to himself, turning to his computer screen and trying to concentrate on work for a change. He signed the retainer documents and stuck them in his portfolio.
Chapter Nineteen
Around two Carl sent Brian an instant message asking him to drop by his office. All day long Carl had been sitting at his desk with his office door closed, staring out at the trading floor. He looked like a defeated man. Brian knocked and entered.
“Sit down and shut the door.”
“What’s up, man? You doing OK? You really don’t look so hot.”
“The firm is putting me on leave. Apparently they got a call from the SEC. Since I’m facing Federal charges involving securities fraud, the SEC very strongly suggested I wasn’t the kind of person who ought to be running an investment bank’s sales division. So much for innocent until proven guilty.”
Brian was surprised. “They can’t fire you, can they? Like you say – you haven’t been convicted of anything!”
Carl had gone through all that with the firm’s legal department this morning. WT&C couldn’t afford any more negative press. The decision had been made to put Carl on paid leave until this matter was settled.
“At least you’re getting paid.”
“I make forty thousand a year base pay. My real income is my commission on sales. All I’m going to get is base – $3,400 a month. That’s my car payment. Thirty-four hundred a month.”
“I don’t know your personal business, but I know you’ve made a shitload of money over the past year or so. You may have to live on savings for awhile but you can beat this deal.”
Carl was sweating profusely. “Easy for you to say. I live pretty high. You know how it always seems to work out that whatever money you make, you need just a little more? That’s how it’s been with me. I bought crap I didn’t need. I have an apartment that costs me ten grand a month and I bought a condo in Belize about two months ago. Paid cash for it – four hundred grand – so I’m really in a bind. I’ll owe the IRS about six hundred thousand next April and my lawyer’s saying I’ll need at least two hundred grand over the next sixty days so he can prepare for my defense. I don’t have eight hundred thousand dollars. I was planning on paying the IRS out of the money I made the rest of this year.”
Brian sat in the chair, speechless.
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
Carl looked at him, leaning across the desk. A desperate man, Brian thought.
“You gotta help me, Brian. We have to stick together on this deal. I have no desire to hurt anybody and I don’t think you want to see me hurt either. I need some money.”
“Wait a sec. Are you trying to blackmail me?” Brian stood and walked to the door. “I don’t know what the hell just happened, but you better figure out somebody else to push around, buddy. As you well know, I have my own set of expensive problems right now. And hurt me? What do you mean, Carl? You think you can hurt me?”
He walked out of Carl’s office, slamming the door behind him. People in nearby cubicles looked up then quickly down again as he strode across the sales floor.
Brian suddenly felt dizzy and nauseated. He felt the mantle of terror creeping over him again. His world was changing in a nanosecond, right before his eyes. Forcing himself to concentrate, he pulled all his notes on the Bellicose deal. There was no need to make copies of any of the offering documents. All that information was on file with the SEC and available to anyone with a computer. He knew the FBI had all that stuff already.
Finally he’d had enough. He left the office and walked to Zen and sat at the bar. He was the only customer in the place – it was almost three pm and the rest of the world was going about its business, blissfully unaware that people like him had problems that were about to swallow him whole. He felt nausea sweeping him again.
The bartender greeted him. “Hey man, what’s up?”
“I need a quick drink. Give me the usual, straight up.”
While Jason prepared Brian’s martini, he commented, “Brian, if it’s none of my business just tell me so. I hear the news like everyone else about WT&C and Carl. Are you going to be OK over there?”
Brian thought for a minute. He wondered that very thing himself.
“Sure,” he responded with a smile and bravado he didn’t really feel. “Sure I am. I’m bulletproof and invisible.” As he said the words, he hoped and prayed they would be true.
Chapter Twenty
As he made the short trek from Zen to Carter and Wells’ building on McKinney, Brian thought how unusual his life had become. He hadn’t had a drink before five pm in years – except on weekends and vacation, which didn’t count. And this week he’d had a martini, maybe two, twice during the workday.
He arrived at the law firm right on time. Ryan escorted him to Nicole’s office. She stood in front of her desk, leaning back on it slightly. An incredibly sexy pose and an incredibly sexy outfit.
She was dressed in a St. John suit and looked as though she had just stepped out of a Nordstrom window.
“You look absolutely terrific.” Brian felt the words come out as though he couldn’t help himself. He was like a kid in school, instantly infatuated.
“Why, thank you, sir,” she laughed. “You don’t look so bad yourself. And now that we’ve boosted each other’s egos, let’s get down to business. Do you have the retainer document?”
Brian handed the executed agreement to her. She laid it on her desk, grabbed a yellow pad and gestured for Brian to sit where they had talked last time.
As she sat, she said, “OK, I have some good news and some not so good news. The good news is that I spoke to Agent Callender and got your deposition moved. I need more time to get you prepared for this. I don’t know if you realize what a deposition’s all about, but you’re pretty much on your own. I can be in the room but I can’t discuss each answer with you. But with my help and the time we have to prepare, you’ll be ready to go.”
She told him they now had two weeks before the deposition. “Put the date on your calendar. It’s one of the biggest events in your life so far.”
Brian was nervous. “Got it. So what’s the bad news?”
“We don’t often see the FBI involved in cases like this so early. What I mean is, the SEC usually comes in first and noses around, gathers information and that sort of thing. The SEC is an enforcement agency on its own. It can issue subpoenas, perform depositions, and recommend charges be filed against individuals and corporations. And it’s definitely involved in this case – right up to its eyeballs. But so is the FBI and that’s highly unusual. So I asked Callender exactly why they were so interested. I hope his answer surprises you.”
Bellicose Holdings’ CFO had reported Rochefort’s disappearance as a potential kidnapping. The man was a citizen and resident of Canada and the FBI was brought into the picture since a crime could have been committed across international borders.
She leaned in toward him and her tone turned serious. “As you know, Francois Rochefort has a less than stellar past. He has a prison record. So how, you ask, did he become the beneficiary of over $25 million? What on earth prompted an investment bank, even one as crazy as the one you work for, to do a public offering for his little shell company, which had no business, no prospects, no hopes or dreams or anything at all?
“Well, here’s how. Hold on to your seat and if I’m telling you some
thing you already know, then honey, you and I may be finished before we’ve even gotten started!”
Brian sat up in his chair, amazed at what she was saying. He knew everything she had told him so far about Rochefort. It made sense the FBI was involved. But what the hell was she talking about now?
“Here’s the rest of the story. Rochefort is a shill. He’s never had an independent thought in his life. His actions are directed by a puppeteer, a man who pulls his strings. Everything he does, every shady deal, even the crime for which he went to prison…everything was directed by someone else.”
“Johnny Speed,” Brian blurted out. Since Brian knew John Spedino fit into the picture somehow, he figured this had to be the way.
Nicole frowned as she heard Brian utter the correct answer. “You got it. The godfather runs Francois Rochefort. He always has. So the FBI tells me they’re interested in all this because for once they’re going to make a case that is going to nail John Spedino and put him in prison.
“So here’s the big question that makes you either my client or my former client. Level with me right now. Did you know there was a connection between John Spedino and your firm before I told you?”
Brian answered truthfully. He only knew about Spedino because of the conversation with Carl Cybola.
Thank goodness I told her about that yesterday.
“So that’s all you know? That’s OK, then. I’m really glad you mentioned Spedino’s name to me before the Feds did. If it had been the other way around it would have made me nervous as hell, and I would have suggested we completely change our course. I’ve represented lots of people accused of crimes in my time, and I’ve done a damned good job getting them little or no jail time. But with you my tactic is that you’re an innocent bystander. If that’s not true you’d better tell me now.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“So how…” Brian began.
Nicole interrupted him. “If you’re wondering how Rochefort got to WT&C and ended up with millions of your clients’ money, that’s the big question. As you well know, every deal your firm does has to have due diligence. What the hell happened this time?”
She was referring to the stringent investigation required by the Securities and Exchange Commission on every new public offering. An independent law firm not otherwise affiliated with the investment banker would be hired to look into backgrounds, verify facts in the offering documents, and give a thumbs-up to the public offering being what it appeared to be. It was not a guarantee that things were as they should be but after due diligence, there should have been no surprises. Tens of thousands of dollars were spent on due diligence for each new stock offering. Those funds were paid out of the offering itself, so they reduced the amount the newly public company would receive from its offering.
The investment-banking firm hired the lawyers, who shouldn’t previously have been the primary lawyer either for the broker or for the company. The idea was the firm doing due diligence was independent. At least that was the theory. Brian knew that sometimes the company itself recommended the law firm. Since the company ultimately paid the substantial bill, it was sometimes in its interest to steer a big piece of business to a firm that could be helpful to the newly public company in the future. Maybe a side deal would be cut where the company would receive a discounted service fee down the road, or perhaps a promise from the lawyers to somehow help the company push its products or services. These side deals were never committed to paper because both parties had to certify to the SEC that the due diligence law firm was truly arms length, with no business or other ties to the company.
Nicole continued. “One of my first steps is to find out who did the due diligence on this deal, what it turned up about Francois Rochefort, and if it was bad news, who at your employer agreed to let the deal continue anyway. This is a big deal, Brian. As long as you’re not a criminal, like you told everyone in the bar last week, then it’s news to you like it is to me. Now it’s your turn to talk. What do you know about all this?”
Brian looked her with an ashen face. “I knew bits and pieces. You have to realize my role in this entire Bellicose scenario. I got information from the firm, passed that information on to my client base, and happened to sell more Bellicose stock than any other broker. I read some of the S-1 offering document but not all of it.”
“Help me understand how this works, Brian. You have a client base who will buy stock from you even though, as you admit you, the selling broker, only knew ‘bits and pieces’ about the deal? How much money are these people investing, on average?”
“Some invest over a hundred grand, many invest around fifty grand, a few invest a little bit. You have to realize something. These people are rich bastards. Really rich. I have heart surgeons, the guy who invented the latest laser surgery techniques, chairmen of oil companies, three women who run their own public technology companies, and at least two dozen Hollywood stars. They don’t want to know a lot. They want someone with a track record telling them this is a deal they should invest in.”
“And they usually make money, don’t they? Even though you know only ‘bits and pieces’ about a company that has no track record, no plans for using the money, a president with no experience running a company, and nothing else you normally would see with a company going public, you felt comfortable pushing a million dollars of stock off on these rich bastards, as you call them? Explain to me what made you so confident that this particular stock would make money? What made you feel sure you could pitch your existing client base on Bellicose? Explain that to me because I just don’t get it. This stock is a piece of shit. You know it, I know it and I presume even your clients knew it.”
Suddenly her entire demeanor had changed. Up to this point, Brian had seen a smiling face, a calm assurance, and total control of her actions. Now Nicole was angry.
“I…I guess my clients know they’re going to be OK overall if they stick with me on deals. Sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. WT&C has made money for its clients more often than not.” Brian stumbled for words.
“What are you not telling me, Brian?” she asked pointedly. “Something’s missing here. What makes these people so loyal, to buy stocks in shitty little companies that no one else would take public in a million years? And how do these stock prices manage to stay above the offering price so the original investors can make money, like you said, ‘more often than not’?”
Brian told her he was a sales guy – he didn’t know what went on behind the scenes to keep stocks propped up. He had wondered the same thing sometimes and Carl Cybola had told him to shut up and enjoy the ride.
“I’m not an officer of WT&C. I’m a stockbroker. I’m selling deals. I don’t know why you or the FBI would expect me to know so much.”
“Because you’re a smart guy. Too smart to just do deals and take the money without wondering why things are how they are and thinking about the consequences attached to your actions. You either know, or think you know, a lot more than you’re telling me. So let’s hear it. I want it all.”
Man, you’re beautiful when you’re mad, Brian thought, involuntarily smiling at her. That didn’t help a thing.
She got up, slammed her note pad on the table and said, “Listen, hotshot. I don’t know what you’ve done in this deal but you are about an inch away from needing another lawyer. No secrets. By the time the FBI deposes you I have to know every single thing you know. And you’re spending four hundred and fifty bucks an hour sitting here grinning at me like a goofy schoolboy. Get it together and start talking.”
She sat down, folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
A quiet buzz from the phone on an end table next to Nicole interrupted them.
Saved by the bell, Brian thought for a second.
She picked up the phone, listened and then said, “Nothing more tonight, Ryan. Have a good evening.” She put the phone down.
“You were saying?”
“OK, OK. Here’s how it works.”
; He told her once brokers had been at WT&C awhile and had proven themselves both to be loyal to the firm and successful at what they did, they were invited to join the Millionaire’s Club. Nobody ever talked about it and Brian had never even heard it mentioned until one day after the market had closed.
“Carl asked me to stop by his office and when I did, he shut the door and said, ‘You’re a player. From what I see I think you’re in this to make big bucks for yourself and to be a major success. Am I right?”
Brian had responded affirmatively, and Carl had talked obliquely about how many different ways there were to make money without breaking the law.
Brian recalled that Carl had said, “Think how many people go through life making thousands of dollars, or even hundreds of thousands, but never realizing their potential. That’s a shame. Guys like you have to take advantage of every means available to you if you want to realize what you can really do and see what kind of sales guy you really can be.”
Nicole sat immobile, continuing to listen to him, her eyes never leaving his. She’s studying me to see if I’m lying.
“Then Carl told me he wanted to make me an offer – to take me to the next level. ‘I’m going to tell you something not a dozen people have ever heard, Brian’, he told me.”
Brian told how Carl had offered to let him join the Millionaire’s Club, explaining that it was nothing more than a stock trading concept Carl and some others in the firm had developed that was a foolproof way to make profits. He first swore Brian to secrecy, telling him he was going to make him a millionaire within thirty days.
Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet Page 8