by Joseph Badal
“Calm down, Mr. Rose,” Rentz said.
“Just a minute, Mr. Rentz,” Rose said. “I have a question to ask Mr. Cunningham.” Without waiting for approval from Rentz, Rose pointed at Cunningham and said, “Do you have anything in writing—a memorandum, a letter, an email—from Mr. Folsom directing you to do anything untoward, including taking down Edward Winter?”
Cunningham’s tough demeanor had dissolved. “Mr. Folsom always gave me direction by telephone or in face-to-face meetings.”
“How convenient!” Rose said, leaning back in his chair.
Rentz looked at Folsom. “So you have had nothing to do with the day-to-day bank operations and you never told anyone to take down Winter Enterprises.”
“I resent you asking that question,” Rose interjected.
Rentz ignored Rose and said to Folsom, “Answer the question.”
“Of course not.”
“What was your relationship with Donald Matson?”
“Mr. Matson and I had a professional relationship. We worked effectively in saving failing banks, and he managed several loan pool transactions I purchased from the FDIC.”
“Uh huh,” Rentz said. “Did you ever give Mr. Matson gifts?”
Folsom half-rose from his chair. “That’s insulting; that would have been illegal.”
“You’re right about that, Mr. Folsom. So, please explain these.”
Rentz opened a file in front of him and extracted several sheets of paper. He passed copies to Folsom and Rose.
“Those are copies of note cards found in two valises holding $2.055 million in cash. Those valises were removed from your home, Mr. Folsom, by the Philadelphia Police Department. We’ve verified the signatures on two of the cards as being Donald Matson’s. Would you explain why Mr. Matson would have entrusted that amount of cash to you? And maybe you can tell us where he got that much money.”
“Oh come on, Rentz,” Rose said, after cursing in his mind his cop friend in the PPD’s Evidence Room for not getting back to him before this meeting. “This is ridiculous. I could give you a half-dozen explanations.”
Rentz looked at Rose as though he were staring at a cow paddy. “I’m sure you could, Mr. Rose, but I’m interested in the truth.” He looked back at Folsom and said, “Do you know what the annotations on the third card represent?”
“Not a clue,” Folsom said, showing an innocent, toothy smile.
“Dates,” Rentz continued, “identical to the dates of every transaction you closed with the FDIC and which Donald Matson managed. In case you haven’t had the time to add up the numbers next to those dates that cover a twenty-two year period, the total comes to $2.5 million. That’s a lot of money. I wonder how Matson accumulated that kind of nest egg.”
“I’m sure I don’t have any idea,” Folsom said, looking bored.
Rentz looked back at Rose. The lawyer looked as though he was about to grab his client and bolt out of the room. Rentz realized he needed to bring the meeting to a climax before Rose did just that.
“Mr. Folsom, are you surprised that Mr. Couples with the OCC is here?”
“What’s one more government bureaucrat?” Folsom said.
“Well, let me tell you. Ms. Moskowitz called Mr. Couples and asked him to give her the names of the heads of the examination teams that examined each bank you and your company have purchased from the FDIC. We were very surprised to learn that the same crew chief was in charge of every bank examination. In other words, Abigail Makris headed up the crew that performed the examinations on banks that were shortly thereafter declared under-capitalized and were taken over by the FDIC. In each of those bank takeovers, the former owners filed formal complaints with the OCC, claiming the examinations had been improper and had come to inaccurate conclusions. Needless to say, the complaints were essentially ignored and the examinations formed the basis for the government’s takeover of those banks.”
“I hope you have a point here, Mr. Rentz,” Rose said.
Rentz couldn’t help himself. He allowed a small smile to cross his face. “What do you think Ms. Makris told Mr. Couples when he confronted her with the amazing coincidences he had discovered?”
Folsom’s face suddenly went pale.
“No idea, Mr. Folsom? Ms. Makris was relieved to finally disclose what she had done and how she had violated her principles and her oath to the agency. All for money, Mr. Folsom. $300,000. Cheap at ten times the price, wouldn’t you say?”
“We’re out of here,” Rose growled, shoving his chair back against the wall and standing up.
Rentz watched the lawyer move toward the door. Folsom followed Rose. Rentz waited until Rose’s hand was on the door knob and then said, “Don’t you want to hear what comes next?”
“We’ve already heard enough,” Rose said.
“It’s your client’s money.”
Folsom whipped around and glared at Rentz.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Mr. Folsom. The FDIC is going to rescind your purchase of Broad Street National Bank. It’s going to manage the bank until Mr. Couples can complete an investigation into what role his examination crew chief played. If we find that the examination crew chief forced the demise of Broad Street National Bank, then we will make restitution to the former owners.”
Rentz shook his head. “I can’t even imagine what we’ll do with the other banks you bought from the FDIC, but in any case, we’re going to hold in escrow the investment you made in Broad Street National Bank and use it to pay claims that will surely arise once all of this gets out.”
“You can’t do that,” Folsom shouted. “I put $500 million in this bank.”
“Oh, but I can. You know what else I can do? What I’ve already done? I’ve put a hold on $150 million in cash and securities you have deposited in various other banks, to be used to reimburse the Broad Street National Bank clients you have damaged.”
“I’ll sue your ass for breach of contract and—”
“Please do, Mr. Folsom,” Rentz said cheerfully. “I can’t wait to meet you in court.”
Folsom pushed Rose out of the way and barged out of the room.
Rentz waited until Rose had left as well and then turned to Cunningham, who had his elbows on the table, his head in his hands.
“I don’t know whether you did anything illegal, Mr. Cunningham, but I am convinced you acted unethically. Here’s the deal I’m going to offer you. I think you can shine a lot of light on Folsom’s operations. You cooperate with us and I’ll protect you as much as possible. I want you to continue to work here at the bank to remediate the problems you created for bank borrowers. I’m going to ask Sol Levin to come back to the bank and resume his role as president. You will report to him if he accepts. What’s your answer?”
“Thank you, sir, yes. I’ll do everything I can.”
“Good.”
“Ms. Moskowitz, I want you to work out of our Philadelphia office and collaborate with Mr. Couples until his investigation is completed. I’m going back to D.C. to make the director aware of what’s been going on.” That ought to be fun, he thought.
“What about Folsom?” Moskowitz asked. “You’re not going to just let him walk away?”
“As soon as you and Bruce here are finished with your investigation, I’m going to turn over everything to the U.S. Attorney in Philadelphia. I don’t think Folsom will be walking much of anywhere, except maybe in a prison exercise yard.”
Rentz got up to leave.
Cunningham stood with him. “Can I make a suggestion, Mr. Rentz?”
“That’s part of your job, Mr. Cunningham.”
“I’d like to call each of the customers whose loans Folsom ordered not to be renewed and let them know we’ve rescinded that decision.”
“Excellent idea,” Rentz said.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
The telephone r
ang on Edward’s desk. The screen on the console displayed that the call was from Broad Street National Bank’s main telephone number. Edward looked across his desk at Nick and Paul, his stomach tensing. . They were preparing an agenda for the Saturday morning meeting with their restaurant managers.
“It’s the bank. They’re probably calling about executing the documents turning the business over to Folsom.”
Edward paused, then punched the speaker button with more force than necessary. “Winter,” he barked.
“Mr. Winter, it’s Sanford Cunningham. I—”
“Where do you want me to sign the papers, Mr. Cunningham? I’d like to get it over with.”
“Actually, that’s not why I’m calling. We’ve had a big turn of events here at the bank. Mr. Folsom is no longer associated with Broad Street National Bank and I have been authorized by the FDIC to inform you that the bank will be renewing your loan according to the terms of your original note. And the hold on your deposit accounts will be removed.”
“This isn’t a joke?” Edward asked, suspicious about the sudden change.
“No, sir. Uh, I want to apologize to you for the way you have been treated. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I promise I will do all I can to make amends.”
Edward’s eyes were saucers when he looked at Nick and Paul. “I think you’ve gone a long way toward making amends, Mr. Cunningham. What happened to Folsom?”
“He’s in big trouble. The Feds are going after him for bribing government officials, among other things.”
A sudden picture of his father flashed in Edward’s brain. It’s payback time, he thought.
“I’ll have a letter in the mail Monday morning confirming the loan renewal,” Cunningham said. “Please call me if you have any questions or need anything.”
“Thank you,” Edward said.
After the call, Edward spread his arms in disbelief. “What the hell just happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Paul answered, “but I sure am going to find out. And if that bank thinks they’re going to get off by just renewing your loan, they’re nuts. They’re going to pay a big price for what they put you through.”
“Let’s put off thoughts of legal action for a while,” Edward suggested. “Until we figure out what’s going on at the bank.”
Nick laughed. “Does this mean I don’t get to work for Folsom?”
Edward and Paul laughed with Nick. “Are you complaining?” Paul asked between chuckles.
“Well, I was going to be president of Winter Enterprises,” Nick said, still laughing.
“You’re still going to be president,” Edward said. “You’ve earned it. I’ll continue to be chairman of the board, but you’re going to run the company’s day-to-day operations. I think the plan to expand to New York is still a good one. I’ll assist you in getting things started there.”
“Jeez, Eddie, this is sure a day of surprises,” Nick said, smiling.
“I assume you’re accepting the promotion?” Edward said.
“Yes, yes, yes. Thank you. I’m thrilled.”
“Let’s finish up here. Nick, you’re going to run the meeting tomorrow. I’m going to sleep in, pick up Betsy from the hospital, and spend the day with her and our son. Paul, have you drawn up Nick’s employment agreement?”
“I’ll have it done next week,” Paul said. “But we should celebrate tonight.”
Edward noticed Nick’s smile fall from his face. “What’s wrong?”
“I promised Annie and the kids we’d go out to dinner tonight.”
“Then that’s what you’re going to do. Paul and I will join Katherine, Carrie, and Wendy at the hotel. Paul, does that sound okay to you?”
“You bet!”
The three of them worked for another hour. Edward told Paul he’d meet him at the Marriott at 9; he wanted to visit Betsy and the baby at the hospital before going to the hotel. Then he walked out of the building with Nick; their cars were parked next to one another’s in the lot.
“Say hello to Annie,” Edward said. “Oh, and tell her your new position includes a fifty percent pay raise and stock options for another five percent of the company. And, one other thing, Nick. Take that Hawaiian vacation before you take over as president of the company.”
Edward got into his car before Nick responded. He felt as relieved and relaxed as he had in a long time. He dialed the number for Betsy’s hospital room and gave his wife the good news.
“I told you everything was going to be all right, didn’t I?”
“You sure did, Honey. But, candidly, I thought you were nuts.”
“You’d better start listening to me, Eddie. Mothers always know best.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
Folsom was so bitterly angry, he felt nauseous. Everything he had worked for was going down the drain. This morning, he was just a few million dollars short of being a billionaire; now that dream was shot.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” he screamed, his words bouncing off the walls of his vault. “I should have killed that OCC bitch, Abigail Makris, too. She took my money and now she’s got a guilty conscience. What a fuckin’ hypocrite!”
Folsom placed a canvas gym bag on a table and unzipped it. He yanked one of the drawers out of the cabinet and poured the gem stones from the drawer into the bag. Then he did the same with the drawers holding the gold coins. He ignored the drawers with the silver coins; there were some valuable pieces in those drawers, but the total value of the silver was maybe $150,000 and not enough to justify carrying the additional weight. The fire sale value of the jewels and the gold coins was probably $3 million.
He moved to the opposite wall and pulled on the left side of the gun rack, swinging the rack away from the wall and exposing a built-in safe. Thank God the cops hadn’t found it during their search. Dialing in the safe’s combination, he cranked the handle and opened it. There were five things there he would need: An unregistered .45 caliber pistol, with two extra magazines; a U.S. passport in his own name and a Panamanian passport issued to a George Domenico that had cost him $10,000 paid to a politician in Panama; ID and credit cards in Domenico’s name; $200,000 in cash; and $50 million in Swiss government bearer bonds.
Folsom stuck the pistol and the false ID in pockets of his casual zippered jacket. The rest of the items from the safe went into the canvas bag. With the bag packed to the brim, he zipped it, closed the safe, and secured the gun rack. After closing the vault door, he walked downstairs to his bedroom and picked up the black leather suitcase he’d packed earlier with a couple changes of clothes before loading the bags in his trunk and driving away.
After clearing the front gate, he called his pilot and told him to have the Gulfstream V ready to go at 1 a.m. Then he drove twenty minutes to the Northwest Marriott Hotel. He carried both bags into the hotel at 7:30 p.m. and used the Domenico credit card and ID to check in. He asked for a room on the tenth floor and was assigned to 1027.
* * *
Edward finally left the hospital at 8:45 p.m. when the maternity nurse chased him out. He called Carrie’s cell to let her know he was on his way.
“It’s getting awfully late,” Carrie told him. “Mom looks like she’s about to crash.”
“Don’t let her go to bed. I’ve got some news I want to tell her.”
“I hope it’s good news. She’s so stressed out she’s only been getting four or five hours sleep a night. Or less.”
Edward chuckled. “I think you’ll all like it.”
“What is it, Eddie? What’s going on?”
“You’ll find out in a few minutes. Be patient.”
“You’re a bastard, you know it?”
“I love you, too.”
Edward hung up and felt a chill go down his spine. He couldn’t wait to see his mother’s face when he told her the good news. He probably should have called her but the news was
so important he wanted to share his happiness with her. Especially considering the Winter family’s history with Gerald Folsom. He felt like a parent on Christmas Eve, setting up for his family’s joy.
At 9, he parked outside the hotel, went inside, and took the elevator to the tenth floor. Carrie let him into the suite where his mother and Wendy were seated on the living room couch in muted light.
“Do you mind if I turn up the lights?” Edward asked. “I want to see your faces when I give you my news.”
“This better be good,” Katherine said, smiling. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Edward turned up the lights and looked at Katherine. “I got a call from the bank. They’re renewing our loan. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Katherine propelled herself off the couch and ran to Edward. She hugged him and cried out, “Thank you, Lord. Oh thank you, thank you, thank you.” She then went to Carrie and hugged her too.
“Did Gerald finally do the right thing?” Wendy asked, looking incredulous.
“No, Wendy,” Edward said. “The FDIC apparently forced the bank to make this move. I don’t know anything else, but I do know Folsom’s going down for breaking the law and bribing government officials. They took Broad Street National Bank back from him and he could go to prison for a very long time.”
Wendy laughed, and then her laughter became almost hysterical before dissolving into tears. “Perfect,” she said. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
A knock on the door quieted the group.
“That’s probably Paul,” Edward said.
Katherine went to the door and opened it. She threw herself against Paul and shouted, “Isn’t the news wonderful?”
“Not as wonderful as my reception,” he said.
Edward’s and Carrie’s eyes met and they smiled at one another.