Buying Brazil (Buying Brazil Trilogy Book 1)

by Arthur Rawl

  He closed the drawer and reached for a pen, paused and then started writing.

  Alana,

  I am sorry for not understanding. Home is so very important but I have lived so long without one I had forgotten. Please accept this small token and please forgive me. I hope you are still willing to try to build a home and life with me. I love you and there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you building our home and our lives together no matter where it may be.

  Carl

  Folding the paper and sliding it into an envelope, “Robin, have Jóse Carlos bring a large brown envelope. I want him to deliver something.

  Several minutes later José Carlos hurried past Robin and out the door. “Did you send him to the airport for our tickets?”

  “No Robin. There was something I forgot to take care of. He’s just delivering a note for me.”

  “The envelope looked awfully thick for just a note …”

  “There was a peace offering with the note.”

  “What’s her name and does she have her passport ready for a quick getaway?”

  “Don’t be foolish please. Dammit, her name is Alana and I forgot dinner with her last night because of the need to talk to Rossi about Rio.”

  “Well it about time someone caught your attention. It’s been too damned long since Shelly walked out and you gave up. You’ve been a real pain in the ass but maybe there’s still hope for you. I should have noticed you turning human again. It’s this damned place. Nothing’s easy.”

  “Enough please. You were going to call New York.”

  Robin left muttering, “Sure, right away. I’m looking forward to doing more than just calling New York.”

  Several hours went by without hearing anything more from Sam or Rossi about either Skip or the possibility of getting him out of jail. Then Jóse Carlos burst through the door, “The plane left Santos Dumont and the helicopters left the jail. It was on the radio news. I don’t know what it means. It must be bad, very bad.”

  “Robin, get Rossi on the phone please.”

  “In a minute, I’m on with New York. Sam’s calling from the plane. Yes, I’ll tell Carl. Go over it again please. I have it now. Yes, I’ll call you when he leaves.”

  Robin was in the door, her face red and tight with worry, “Sam says you are to go to the Trade Mission at once. There’s a small helicopter waiting for you on the Mission’s roof heliport. You’ll be taken to the International Airport in Curatiba just under a hundred miles west of São Paulo city but still within the state. Sam and Skip will be landing there in about half an hour with Rossi’s partner. He said you better be there by then.”

  “José, take me down the hill to the Trade Mission. Wait for me there. If I’m right, I’ll be back in two or three hours at the most. Hurry … Robin, get the satellite phone.”

  Twenty-five minutes later the pilot signaled Carl to put on his headset, “We’ve been directed to land in the far north east corner near the bond warehouse complex. There’s a large maintenance hangar with the runway side door partially open. Mr. Watson’s plane just arrived two or three minutes ago and taxied inside. We are to land and taxi close to the door and a military escort will come for you. I’m to wait with the engine on.”

  “I told you to be here when I landed.”

  “Hello Sam, ah Skip how are you?” Walking past Sam I took Skip by the shoulders, “Are you alright? The doctor said you’d be fine,”

  “Thanks Carl, I don’t know what you did but after you left everything changed. It was like I was in a hotel. Whatever I needed … I messed up, I’m sorry.”

  “No you didn’t, I’m sure you were setup. That’s not important now as long as you’re ok. Do whatever your Dad says and get your butt out of here. He’s the best one to do what’s necessary.”

  “We don’t have time for this crap. You’re responsible for all of this. You were in charge so don’t try to point any fingers.”

  Skip jumped to his feet, “Dad, that’s not …”

  “You shut up. When I get back to New York I’m sending someone down here to replace you Matthews. Until then just let things quiet down. Stay away from BrasTel. Just keep a lid on everything if you can. When you’re back in the States we’ll talk about what’s next for you.”

  “Are you firing me Sam?”

  “I said we’ll talk about it in New York.”

  “No, we’ll talk about it now.”

  “Just get out of here. We have wheels up in under five minutes. Remember, keep a lid on things.”

  “You’ve made that impossible Sam. You haven’t seen the television coverage of your visit. Have your friends in the State Department explain the damage you’ve done by not letting the Brazilian lawyers work things out quietly in the customary way. I’ll try to do damage control but you may have already made the deal an untouchable political hot potato.”

  “You son of a bitch, who the hell do you think you’re talking to.”

  “… someone with a hell of lot to lose who just dug a whole deep enough to swallow us all. I’ll have Skip’s things packed and shipped north.” Waving to Skip I went through the hatchway, “Have a safe trip home and take care of yourself.”

  Red-faced Sam was in the hatchway yelling something that was drowned out by the noise of the helicopter idling just outside the hanger. A line from a Sherlock Holmes story I had read years ago went through my mind as the two khaki-clad armed escorts fell in behind me, “… the game is afoot”.

  Chapter 19

  Robin stood as I walked through the office door, “José Carlos called me when he heard the helicopter return. Did you see Skip?”

  “I saw both of them. Skip’s fine. Sam blames the whole thing on me and he’s going to replace me down here.”

  “Shit, I knew it would happen. Sam’s an ass. His kid makes a mess and someone else takes the fall. What about me?”

  “You’re moving a little too fast. Whether Sam knows it or not you and I are joined at the hip. I was warned weeks ago that Sam had ‘plans’ for me and I’ve spent the time looking out for both of us so cool off please.”

  “Who warned you?”

  “For now, let me say it was some old friends of Rossi’s … some very powerful old friends of his from the Golden Years when he was running the Courts.”

  “… and?”

  “… and I’ve had nothing to eat all day.” Pointing to the ceiling and then putting a finger to my lips, “I haven’t eaten all day. Let’s have José drive us somewhere for a late lunch or an early dinner.”

  Robin started to say something but stopped. “Ok, I’ll call José and tell him to meet us on Campinas in five minutes.”

  “Make it ten minutes and get Rossi on the phone for me please.”

  “Hello Pedro, yes I saw them. Your partner Jesus did an outstanding job so please thank him for me. Yes, Skip looks fine and Sam was breathing fire so things are as expected. Could you get word to Juan that I want to meet him at 9:30 tonight at the small restaurant where we last had dinner together. Please tell him I apologize for the short notice but I think it’s necessary.”

  “I’m sure he will understand. I think most Brazilians have seen the television reports from Rio and now Curitiba.”

  “Thank you, if there is a problem I’ll be out of the office so call my cellphone. Oh yes, I know I said we would get together later but please excuse me.”

  “I’m sure there will be no problem and please, I understand about tonight and agree it is best I am not with you.”

  “Thank you. Tchau.”

  Juan was already waiting when José Carlos finally made his way from Rua Augusta to the restaurant. The office had been painfully quiet after I returned from Curitiba with Sam in the air and Robin in the depth of despair. She listened to what I told and retold her over lunch but seemed to hear nothing. By the time we returned to the office she was lost in a dark granite silence. Hopefully after a good night’s sleep she would re-connect with her customary high spirits and di
g into the pile of details that would demand complete and flawless attention during the next several days. Without her backing me up our chances of success would be greatly diminished.

  “Hello Juan.”

  “Good evening. I understand you had a busy day today even joining São Paulo’s helicopter version of the jet set.”

  “Yes and no. I haven’t been able to get anything done on the deal because of the ‘Skip’ problem. That and of course his father’s visit.”

  “Yes, I watched the television coverage of the visit.”

  “Wasn’t it wonderful? I think they covered everything including the color of Skip’s underwear.”

  “Brazilians exist on the smallest details. I think their love of gossip and spinning new versions from old stories is more important than food … food but not drink.”

  “They were served a big meal today. I hope we are not the ones to get indigestion tomorrow.”

  “I assure you there will be indigestion by the end of tomorrow but I doubt if it will touch you or I. Interesting, I noticed in all the hours of television coverage there was no mention of you or your colleague Sra. Robin or your office here in São Paulo.”

  “Now that you mention it there wasn’t any. Robin would have been jumping around like a crazy person if she had seen herself on the TV no matter how small the mention of her was.”

  “We must assume the omission was not an accident. Someone or something must have been looking out for your safety. But we can talk of this later, I am hungry and some wine first would be very good.”

  Juan signaled the waiter who was patiently waiting to be called just far enough away fearing he might overhear something that would be dangerous for him to know. Fear and his valued job in this meeting place known for its discretion had overcome his love of gossip long ago.

  After serving a slightly chilled intense Argentine Malbec that was Juan’s customary, if not somewhat unusual, first wine the waiter started reciting the specials of the day until Juan’s raised hand stopped him. “Tonight they have something special. This time of year the Humbolt Current, the cold water coming north along the southern coast from Antarctica brings a special fish. It is like our north Atlantic cod but richer in flavor. It is very special and the waiter assures us it was swimming until late morning. The preparation will be very simple, a little olive oil and a little butter and the wood burning brick oven … wonderful.”

  “You’ve convinced me Juan.”

  “I am sure you will find it very good. Allow me to give the waiter some instructions about how I would prefer the fish done.”

  Juan’s instructions seemed endless particularly if you consider the need for confirmation of each detail. Finally, the waiter hurried off to the kitchen and Juan returned to his wine. “I think we should dispense with a business detail before our fish comes.” Pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket, “You should read this. It was delivered a short while ago to members of Laser Telecom’s Board of Directors individually at their homes or offices by Brazilian Consular staff members. Naturally, Mr. Watson’s copy is waiting for him to return to his office although I expect it will be read to him aboard his airplane. This is your copy. I am sure you will find it self-explanatory.”

  The short letter was on BrasTel letterhead and carried the corporate seal as a sign that this was an official action of the corporation.

  Gentlemen:

  You are hereby notified that all discussions

  between representatives of your Company and BrasTel

  regarding a potential merger transaction are

  fully and finally terminated. The shareholder

  and directors of BrasTel have great respect for

  your representatives in Brazil. However, recent

  actions by members of your Company’s controlling

  family in disregard of Brazilian law have completely

  undermined our ability to consider Lazer Telecom

  a trustworthy potential business partner nor one who

  would have the appropriate level of interest in the

  welfare of the Brazilian people.

  For the Board of Directors,

  Carlos Luis Ipiranga, Chairman

  “This should stir up a hornet’s nest. I’m sure if Skip wasn’t on board Sam’s plane he would turn the thing around and come back for a bombing run.”

  “Your Mr. Watson doesn’t understand Brazil. Here almost all big companies are controlled by a family even if there are some public owners so, it is natural, for Brazilians to look first at the family’s reputation and behavior and then at the company.”

  “He is certainly not my family and you’re right, he does not understand Brazil. What’s worse is he does not want to understand it.”

  “That is also one the reasons why our directors have chosen to end negotiations with him and his company. I would say they do not see you and your colleague the same way. Whatever you may choose to do next is up to you but please remember you can count on ‘all’ your friends at BrasTel. Considering that letter takes Laser out of the play and you have a choice to make, certain of these friends would hope you would be willing to continue to help BrasTel shape and close a mutually beneficial deal. Naturally that assumes your first choice is to end your association with the Watsons.”

  “I believe Sam has already made that decision for me. He blamed me for Skip’s problem and any troubles that might arise here. When I met him just before he left he made it clear he was going to replace me on the deal. Also, I’m expected to come back to New York so he can formally fire me.”

  “We assumed you would have a contract settlement to structure with him and that is why the Board laid the problem directly upon his shoulders. Ah, here comes our dinner.”

  “The Board listens to Sam. He’ll be sure I leave empty handed.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not. The interested stakeholders have many friends in many countries. They would not like to see … shall we say an injustice done. This is not simply altruistic on their part. They have as the Americans say, a rainy day fund in place with a bank in Vienna. Now they see a rainy day has arrived and want to be sure that only Sr. Watson is distracted by getting very wet.”

  “Do you have a suggestion for me from your stakeholders?”

  “I think they might want you to go to New York and settle your affairs with Laser Telecom with haste. They would probably expect you to be carrying Sra. Robin’s resignation. After that you will return to Brazil as an independent Merchant Banker who could offer your services to … whoever makes sense to you.”

  “What about Robin while I’m gone?”

  “As I recall, she has a tourist visa, a good hotel to remain as a guest and I suggest she uses the time to relax and tour.”

  “She will not be that easy.”

  “You can tell her the hotel is paid for as long as she wishes to stay. Also, tell her your driver has decided to change employers. From today he works for one of our mutual friends and will be available full time for Sra. Robin. Lastly,” sliding a small envelope across the table to me, “this key is for a safe deposit box at the Maksoud that is in Sra. Robin’s name. The box contains US$100,000 in currency. Half is in US currency and the other half is in Brazilian Reals. She should consider this money a gift … pocket money for her holiday no matter how short or long she chooses to make it.”

  “I think all of that will go a long way to comfort her.”

  “Being quite frank my friend, I hope you have a very short trip to New York and at least some of your time there is spent on the telephone with your banker friend in Vienna starting the process of completing whatever you think our stakeholders would expect of you.”

  “Laser’s bid for BrasTel was killed by Sam and he just about fired me. In a few days one way or another my dealings with Laser will also be over without any trailing strings except those lawyers will create. In a few weeks, I should be free both morally and legally to do whatever I want.”

  “Ah … finally our dinner.”
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  José Carlos was in front of the apartment promptly at 8:30. Looking down at the morning activity on Haddock Lobo I knew I would miss the view, the Brazilians and their unique way of doing everything. On the surface life was simple, direct and open but I learned, at times the hard way, below the surface there were countless layers of complication and controversy all of which presented their own risk profile to the uninformed outsider. I had scratched my way through several layers however the real action was still far inside and like peeling an onion, the more layers you stripped away the greater the probability of tears.

  “Good morning. Go by the Maksoud and pick up Robin. I called her a little while ago and she’ll be waiting. I want to go to the small café by the park where I met Sr. Miniero several weeks ago. Their menu said they serve breakfast.”

  “It will be a very slow trip at this time.”

  I leaned forward and spoke very softly in José’s ear, “Is it safe to talk in the car?”

  José held up a small box with a short antenna sticking out of the top, “A gift from my brother. He said it would detect any listening equipment in the car. He said a radio mounted outside would not work because of the road noise but his little machine would find it anyway. I check the car every morning before I leave for work and there has been nothing and yes, I did check this morning.”

  “Thank your brother for me please. You’re right he is a very smart man.”

  “The family is very proud of him.”

  Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the Maksoud’s drive. Robin, head bent forward was pacing back and forth in the broad portico as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She didn’t see us until José stepped out of the car and called to her. She jumped into the front seat next to José with the energy of someone trying to escape the devil.

  “I checked the email. There were six for you from Sam. I didn’t read them but I’m sure they’re all bad or worse.”

  “Predictable …”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You have an English passport.”