The Collectibles

by James J. Kaufman

  Silence again, but this time a little shorter.

  “That would be nice, actually, Joe. I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to think about. Besides, I have a dog to look after, you know. You oughta understand that, Joe. By the way, how the hell is Buck?”

  “Buck’s great. Buck and I returned not long ago from a trip to the Adirondacks. You wouldn’t believe how those mountains have regrown – even since you and I were there. The deer are huge. So are the black bears. More beaver. More birds. It was great up there. You would have loved it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that. I bet you could’ve stayed there forever. Why’d you come down?” Harry asked.

  Joe paused before speaking. “For a lot of reasons. I thought about staying up there, but a guy, actually two guys, found out where I was and came up and asked me to help them out of a bad business situation. I said I would, and so I’m down here in Braydon. I agree, you do have a lot to think about, Harry. How’s your mother? Have you had a chance to tell your uncle about your trap shooting award? Have you spoken with the guys at the hunting club? They really need to hear from you, don’t they?”

  “Mom’s fine. I do need to call her though, now that you mention it,” Harry admitted. “I should call Uncle Ted, too. He does get excited when I call.”

  “Remember the time you and I were caught in that water spout on Lake Erie?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Harry said with a fuller voice. “I thought we would never get in.”

  “But we did, didn’t we? We did get in.”

  Harry lowered his head, and in a soft voice, said, “Yeah, come to think of it, we did.”

  Another long silence.

  “Joe, I’m telling you, I’m telling you, it doesn’t work, it never will. I’m pulling the trigger. I’m going to blow my brains out.”

  “Harry, take it easy. Settle down. I’m staying on the phone however long it takes us to agree on a plan.”

  “Forget it. It’s hopeless. What the hell kind a plan could work?”

  “I’m talking about a plan for right now, Harry – this morning. I’m talking about a plan for a next step now,” Joe said. “You’re desperate now, and you can’t think for yourself. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Here’s what I want you to do. Here’s the plan. You put the shotgun down, now. You unload it. Do that right now. Harry? Do you hear me? . . . Have you done it?”

  Harry pressed the tang on the shotgun, opened the breech, and removed the shell from the chamber. “Yes, dammit. I’ve done it.”

  “Do you have the shell in your hand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Put the shotgun in your gun cabinet now. Lock the cabinet. Tell me when you’ve done that and you’ve locked the cabinet.”

  “It’s in there, and the cabinet’s locked,” Harry said.

  “Now, call Dr. Goldstein. Tell him you need to see him, right now. Call me immediately after you’ve called Dr. Goldstein. Will you promise you will do that, Harry? Right now?”

  “Yeah,” Harry replied.

  “I’m counting on that, Harry. I’m going to wait by this phone for your call. I’m going to hang up now. I expect to hear from you in a matter of minutes, okay?”

  Silence for a moment. “Okay,” Harry replied and hung up.

  Harry punched Dr. Goldstein’s number, and after a brief discussion with his secretary, heard Dr. Goldstein come on the line. Harry told him that he needed help now, and reminded the doctor that he had instructed Harry to call him if he was in real trouble and that he could come over. The doctor told him he would see him right away. The next call was back to Joe.

  “I did it,” Harry said.

  “You did what?” Joe replied.

  “I called Dr. Goldstein, like you said. I’m going over there now. He’s going to meet me at his office.”

  “Great, Harry. Promise you’ll call me from Goldstein’s office when you get there. Will you promise me that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to wait here by the phone until I get your call, Harry.”

  “I figured that,” Harry said. “I’ll call you from his office.”

  Twenty-five minutes later, Harry, ignoring the “No Cell Phone” sign, called Joe. “I’m here, Joe. I’m at Dr. Goldstein’s office. He’s going to see me now.”

  “What’s his office look like, Harry?” Joe asked.

  “Cut it out. I’m really here. Do you want to speak with the doctor?”

  “No, Harry, I trust you. Good luck. Give me a call when things settle down.”

  “You got it, man.”

  Harry had called him before, been down, but never like this time. This was really a close call. Joe was exhausted, and the day had hardly begun. He wanted to be out on his boat, to be far away from any thoughts about guns or death. He figured the sooner he solved Preston’s problems, the sooner he could do what he wanted to do, be where he wanted to be. He took a long, hot shower, dressed and took Buck for a walk. Then, after talking with Alice and reviewing the Wilson file, Joe decided it was time to call Preston’s New York City lawyer.

  “Mr. Brookfield, my name is Joe Hart, and I’m calling on behalf of Preston Wilson and his companies.”

  “Yes, Mr. Hart, I have a letter from both Mr. Wilson and Mr. Fitzgerald requesting a good deal of information from our firm. I have been expecting your call.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Brookfield.”

  “Call me Andrew, please.”

  “Fine, sir. I just have a few questions. First, did your firm undertake any operational studies of any of the dealerships?”

  “No. We were not requested to do that.”

  “Andrew, let me ask you this: Did anyone from your firm speak with any of the manufacturers of the automobiles sold at any of the dealerships?”

  “No. We were not requested to do that, either.”

  “Were there any valuations done of any of the dealerships?” Joe asked.

  “The only dealership that had a valuation done to my knowledge was Manhattan Mercedes. It was ordered by the general manager of that store, as I understand it, in connection with a capital loan that the Greater Bank of Manhattan requested. I have not read the valuation, but I did see it in the list of materials being sent to you. Other than that, I am not aware of any valuations. That is not to say that there are not other valuations.”

  “How about appraisals on the underlying real estate?” Joe asked.

  “There are a number of appraisals, but I’m not sure how current they are. Again, we did not request them to be done, but they were requested by banks, insurance companies, and title companies. I’ve seen to it that all the appraisals we have are included.”

  “Very well. Thank you for getting all this information to me in such short order.”

  “I’m happy to comply with the directions of our client, Mr. Hart. Fortunately, our firm has the required support personnel and assistants to gather all of this material and see to it that it is delivered to you within the required time frame. It is also fortunate that our retainer agreement with Wilson Holdings covers all of our costs and disbursements in addition to our time, which you can imagine is of considerable value.”

  What a pompous ass, Joe thought. How much money have you already taken from Preston and his companies so that you could tell him he was going down and there was nothing you could do to stop it?

  “Thank you, Andrew. Is there anything else you feel I should know?”

  “I can’t think of anything else to tell you, Mr. Hart, but there is one thing you could tell me.”

  “Yes, sir, what is that?” Joe inquired.

  “Why in the world are you going through all of this hopeless exercise? I doubt if Preston Wilson can get his hands on much more money. That is one of the reasons why, as you can imagine – lawyer to lawyer – our fi
rm is looking forward to discontinuing our professional relationship with Mr. Wilson and his companies. You have to know when to get off the train, is what I always say.” Mr. Brookfield gave a high-pitched laugh. “You and I both know that Wilson Holdings and Mr. Wilson are finished. They owe the bank millions, and there’s no defense to that. The banks have been patient. We’ve held them off as long as we could. Preston will be fortunate if he doesn’t go to jail. He should have known better, and so should his CFO, Mr. Fitzgerald. I don’t understand why you’re jumping in at a time like this, but it’s fine with me. I wish you the best of luck.”

  Joe figured Andrew Brookfield had forgotten the question he started with, and, in any event, did not deserve an answer.

  “Thanks for wishing me good luck,” Joe said. “And thank you again for all of the information.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Hart.”

  Chapter 16

  The information Joe received from his inquiries filled four rooms in his suite of offices. With the help of Alice and a couple of interns from the university’s business school, he sorted through all the documents and stacked them in piles throughout the office.

  Joe placed a call to Alex Herman, an icon in the automotive business who had been a general manager, as well as Chief Financial Officer and Chief Operating Officer, for several mega-dealerships. Alex was an anomaly in that he not only had well-honed business skills and an astute perception of the business, but he also had one foot in the old school of dealers and the other in the new school. He grasped the value of the computerization, software, and service components of the dealerships, each operating as independent profit centers. He also knew that aside from modern advertising, finance, and buying, the business was still a people business.

  “How the hell are you?” Joe asked when he heard Alex’s voice on the phone.

  “Great, Joe, you old son of a bitch. How the hell are you? Any fishing lately?”

  “Not really. I’m tied up at the moment trying to help a client out of an automotive mess. To tell you the truth, Alex, it feels good . . . I needed to get immersed in this kind of thing.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry about Ashley,” Alex said in a low voice. “How can I help?”

  “If you’ve got time, what I would like you to do is visit six stores. As usual, they’re spread around the country. Alice will fax you the list and all the details. They’re owned by Wilson Holdings, Inc., a holding company owned by a gentleman in New York City named Preston Wilson. I have all the authorizations and consents, which include anyone acting for me, so in this one you won’t have to be involved with anybody else.”

  “Understood. I’m working for you and reporting to you. I like it that way.”

  “What I’d like you to do is visit each store, look it over, get a feel for the site, the real estate, the way the sales and service departments are run, how the General Manager and Sales Manager are doing, your impression of the financial people, and how it all feels. Five out of six of these stores are in financial trouble. What I would like you to focus on is the operations aspect, just like you did for me in Syracuse and that store in New Jersey. That’s what I’m looking for.

  “Also, check with GMAC, Ford Credit, Subaru Acceptance, or whoever else is still providing floor plans these days, off the record, to see if they would be interested in picking up Subaru and BMW in the Houston store, and also check with Ford to see if they’ll buy back the Ford Franchise. I would appreciate your doing the same thing discreetly with the new banks or lenders who are filling the gap on floor plans to see if they would pick up Honda, Porsche, Audi and Bentley flooring at the San Francisco Autoplaza. Bank North America is carrying Autoplaza’s floor plan now.”

  “I take it these stores are upside down with Bank North America.”

  “Yeah, they are, but that’s what makes these plans interesting. In any event, please get me your report ASAP. Sorry to do this to you, but I need the information and your read on it is important. Especially your thoughts on what can be done to make operations better.”

  “You got it, Joe. I’m outta here. I’ll talk with you. I still want to know when we’re going fishing.”

  “Right after this workout is done, we’re fishing,” Joe vowed.

  “That’s a promise I’ll hold you to. I’ll talk to you soon. So long.”

  With that call completed, and Joe having talked personally to each of the manufacturers’ representatives, it was now time to reach out to the banks themselves. He wanted to start with Bank North America, the largest creditor. He obtained the name of the president, and, after explaining himself several times to various people, finally reached him on the telephone.

  “Good morning, sir. I’m Joe Hart, and I’m calling on behalf of Preston Wilson and Wilson Holdings. I appreciate your taking my call.”

  “Well, I finally get to talk to the man who’s causing such a ruckus around here,” Tom Gallagher said in a good-natured voice. “You certainly are persistent; I’ll say that for you. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, first, sir, I appreciate the responsiveness of your bank in supplying all the information we have requested. I also appreciate your taking the time to talk with me personally. Wilson Holdings is in serious financial trouble. It owes substantial sums to your bank and other banks as well. Your bank should be paid in full. I have written a comprehensive turnaround plan for your review. What I would like to do, with your permission, is have a meeting with you personally to discuss the plan and how we can work together to make this happen.”

  “I like the part about Bank North America being paid back,” Mr. Gallagher said. “How do you see this unfolding, Mr. Hart?”

  “Permission to speak frankly and off the record, Mr. Gallagher?”

  “Yes, and you may call me Tom. Go ahead.”

  “Well, sir, as I stated, Wilson Holdings is in serious financial condition. What I have tried to do in my plan is make a complicated matter as simple as possible. The reason for the plan in the first place is so that you and Bank North America will have in one place the information you will need to help you make the required decisions. The plan is a review and assessment of the current situation, how deep the hole is, what caused the difficulties, what we see as the immediate problem, what we need to fix it, and a detailed outline of execution steps to resolve the situation.”

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s enough, sir,” Joe replied in a respectful tone. “You asked how I see this unfolding. Based on my experience, we will have a meeting around a long table in a large conference room. The bank will have several representatives present. Your people will remind us that we asked for this meeting and instruct us to go ahead and say what we have to say. You will already have been advised by your counsel of the gravity of the situation, and to say very little, leaving the matters in their hands. When they speak, they will sternly advise us that we are in default, that litigation is imminent, and that what assets remain are being dissipated as we speak and, therefore, there can be no forbearance; that the only thing that can help the bank is if we are aware of any additional collateral that can be pledged to the bank immediately.”

  “Well, that sounds about right,” Tom said. “What do you have for us, Mr. Hart?”

  “I have a plan that can work if we can keep the lawyers in check and focus on a business solution. I am a lawyer, but my entire approach to this case is on a practical business basis. I’m asking for an off-the-record, ‘for settlement purposes,’ honest discussion about how we can construct this matter in such a way that Wilson Holdings and Preston Wilson do not have to seek bankruptcy protection, your bank does not have to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on legal fees, and you can get your money back. I understand that you require the input from your counsel, and that you have a responsibility not only to your bank, but also to the regulators. I suggest that we eat the elephant a bite at a time. I would like to have the first meeting
in whatever way you choose to do it, but sooner rather than later, I would like to sit down with you without the loan officers who are trying to defend their files and conduct and without the lawyers who would love to see this matter litigated. By then you will have read my plan and you – and your people to whom you assign these volumes – will see from the extensive exhibits that we have provided you with a true detailed picture of what we owe, what we have, and what we can do to clean up this mess.”

  “Well, Joe, this has been a very interesting conversation,” Tom said. “Frankly, I like the sound of it, although I’m sure my lawyers will not.” He paused a beat. “Let’s have the meeting. I look forward to meeting you. I’ll get my people together. How does next Monday morning at ten in our big conference room with the long table sound to you?”

  “Thank you, Tom. We’ll be there.”

  Chapter 17: Tommy

  Joe woke to his phone ringing.

  “Joe, it’s Tommy.”

  Joe had met Tommy Greco in Vegas after he’d finished speaking at a J. D. Power Mega Dealers’ Roundtable meeting and decided to relax at Caesar’s Palace. Tommy had just come from a heavyweight-title boxing match and was shooting craps next to Joe. The short, stocky man was loud and funny, charming Joe and the entire table. They played together for six hours, Tommy signing as many markers. Tommy then talked Joe into going downtown to a favorite bar. The subject eventually turned to Tommy’s being into Caesar’s for over $350,000, and Joe learned that Tommy had a problem not only with the dice but with the ponies, too. Joe was tempted to say goodbye to Tommy and his gambling problems, but he told Tommy he was curious how he’d gotten into gambling in the first place.

  “It’s the way it was,” Tommy said as he described his growing up in Niagara Falls, “on our side.”

  Joe lit a Graycliff Expresso cigar and listened, fascinated not only by the story but by the way his new friend talked. Far from his image of Niagara Falls, he learned about a small, heavily Italian community where early life for Tommy meant baseball, wrestling, church school, trying to avoid an abusive and alcoholic father, and a mother who, to make ends meet, “turned occasional tricks for the tourists that wanted more than the Falls.” Tommy told Joe how the weights in Niagara High’s gym became his friends, providing protection against being short and the fists of his father. “Besides, the girls love the muscles.” When he dropped out of high school, he got a job working at a neighborhood bar.