The Story of Charlie Mullins

by Jim Wygand

  “The fact that he is fucking missing, Tom, that’s the basis!” Sharon shouted.

  “Sharon, cool it, you are nothing but a concerned citizen sticking your nose into a matter that doesn’t concern you. Charlie Mullins is not related to you, he’s not married to you, as far as I know he doesn’t owe you any money, and his employers don’t seem to be concerned that he has disappeared. So why in the hell should you be filing a missing person report? Go on home, Sharon. Mind your own damned business and don’t come back here!”

  Sharon stormed out of the police station and went straight to the local newspaper office. She sat down at the desk of May Brown, a local society reporter who covered what little of note ever happened in Shoreville. “May, do you know that Charlie Mullins has disappeared?”

  “Well, I had heard some things, but it’s not exactly news when a bachelor leaves town. I mean what’s the angle here? Charlie Mullins quit his job? That’s not exactly the kind of thing that I would bother to report.”

  “May, he put up his house for sale with an authorization to some real estate company. He has not been seen for over a month. He has not showed up for work and nobody is saying a word. Isn’t that weird?”

  “Kinda, Sharon, but maybe he served notice to his boss and has taken a job in Seattle. Did you ever think about that?”

  “C’mon May, you know Charlie. That’s not his style. I know for a fact that he has been seeing some hussy in Philly. Maybe he is in trouble. Maybe he’s been shot by some boyfriend of hers or her pimp!”

  “Well, if he was shot, why would he be selling his house, Sharon? C’mon, give me a break! What’s news about a bachelor dating a hussy? Jesus!”

  “Will you check it out or not?” Sharon challenged.

  “OK, I’ll tell you what, I’ll drive over to Wilmington and talk to his boss. If everything seems normal, I’ll forget about it and you won’t come back here with some half-baked theory, OK?”

  “Well, I guess that is as good as I am going to get from you.” Sharon said with no small amount of frustration and anger.

  “All right, Sharon. I’ll check it out and if there is a story, I’ll write something. But I think you’re delusional. The guy can do whatever he wants with his life.”

  “OK, just get on it, will ya’?”

  “Tomorrow, I promise,” May said.

  Sharon left the newspaper office with a small amount of satisfaction. At least somebody would check on Charlie.

  * * * * *

  May Brown showed up to the Shaw Corporation offices at precisely 9-o-clock the next morning. She called Fred Perkins’ office and asked Laura if she could meet with Fred for about 15 minutes. She could hear Laura asking Fred if he would talk to May. When she came back to the phone, Laura said, “He said he can see you for a few minutes but with the promise that you will not quote him in anything you write.”

  “Yeah, sure,” May replied, “that’s OK.”

  May took the elevator to Fred’s office, identified herself to Laura, and introduced herself to Fred Perkins. “Mr. Perkins, I understand you are Charlie Mullins boss, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was informed that Charlie has simply disappeared. After the sale of the Shaw Corporation he just never showed up for work. Is that correct?”

  “Well, in part, yes. However, I have been informed by my superiors that Charlie is simply working on some confidential matters related to the IPO. You know there are a lot of filings that have to be done and new strategies worked out for the companies we acquired. I don’t think disappeared is really the right word. I understand that Charlie is simply on assignment on a matter of utmost confidentiality and importance to the company. I expect his return when the assignment is finished.”

  “Are you aware that his house was put up for sale?”

  “No, and there is no reason I should be. That strikes me as a personal matter. Why should I be involved in Charlie Mullins’ personal business?”

  “Understood Mr. Perkins, do you know if Mr. Mullins is alive and well?”

  Perkins laughed for perhaps the first time in his life, “Ms. Brown, how many dead people do you know who put their house up for sale?”

  “Point taken, well I guess that settles things from my side. No story here. While I am here can you tell me something about the sale of the company? A lot of people in Shoreville would like to know their jobs are secure. At least I won’t have driven over here for nothing.”

  Fred perked up. “You can quote me on this one if you wish, no one has any reason to fear layoffs in this company. We are on a growth trajectory. The new owners have made it clear that this is a portfolio investment for them. They won’t get involved in the day-to-day management of Shaw. They have made some new appointments to the Board of Directors and that’s it. Everything else is as it was before.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Perkins. I’ll send you the draft of my article. The readers in Shoreville will be happy to hear that news.”

  Fred Perkins beamed with self-satisfaction.

  May Brown took her leave and drove back to Shoreville. At least she had a story for her effort.

  She was hardly back to her office when Sharon Gallagher called. “Well, May, what did you find out?”

  “I found out that Charlie Mullins is on a confidential assignment for the new owners of Shaw. He is alive and well and working.”

  “That’s a load of crap, May!” Sharon screamed into the telephone. “They’re hiding something. What the hell kind of reporter are you? Can’t you tell they are hiding something from you?”

  “That’s enough Sharon, I’m not going to listen to your ranting. The story is that Charlie is working on a confidential matter for his employer. That’s not news and it ain’t a story so cool it!” May slammed the telephone receiver into its cradle.

  Sharon just sat and fumed. She was stymied again and mad as a hornet.

  * * * * *

  Warren Carpenter called Phillip Shaw. “Phillip, there is nothing at all out there on Charlie Mullins. It’s like he just disappeared into thin air. My investigators have come up with nothing. I told them to sit tight until I could talk to you to see what to do next. I still have the surveillance on the bank kid but he just comes and goes normally. The phone tap has revealed nothing except a fairly active love life. No Charlie!”

  “Warren, I think I know how to handle this. I talked to my father yesterday and he suggested something. I won’t discuss it with you now but have your investigators sit tight until we talk again. I think I know how to find this guy. Meanwhile, keep the surveillance on his friend just to be safe and stay on his phone until we can talk again.”

  “I’m your attorney Phillip, please don’t do anything that could cause you trouble.”

  “Not to worry, Warren. I will just talk to someone who I am sure can find this guy Mullins. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  * * * * *

  Phillip Shaw parked in the South Philly garage, across the street from a trattoria as he had been instructed to do. He was told to go into the trattoria and order a glass of Chianti and wait for someone to contact him.

  He did as instructed and was sipping his Chianti when a waiter named Johnny approached him, “Mr. Shaw, there is car waiting outside for you. The Chianti is on the house.”

  Phillip got up and walked outside to see a black Mercedes with deeply tinted windows. A driver was holding open a rear door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Shaw, please get in.” The driver’s gentle demeanor was totally incongruous with his beefy appearance and what appeared to be a bulge on the left side of his suit jacket.

  Phillip Shaw entered the Mercedes. The driver gently closed the door and they left the site of the trattoria. The gate to Carlo Rizzo’s home opened before they had to stop and they drove straight through. A number of men in suits were busy photographing the Mercedes. “Who are those people?” he asked with anxiety in his voice.

  “Probably just tourists,” the driver responded. “Tourists don’t wear suits!” t
hought Phillip Shaw.

  “Not to worry, Mr. Shaw, they can’t photograph the interior of this car.”

  Phillip Shaw relaxed a bit. The last thing he needed was to be seen entering the home of Carlo Rizzo, reputed head of the Philly mafia.

  The driver pulled the Mercedes around to the back door of the residence and Phillip Shaw was quickly escorted into the house. He was ushered through the kitchen and into a study off the living room where Carlo Rizzo was seated behind a large and very expensive-looking desk.

  Carlo rose to meet Phillip, “Mr. Shaw, I apologize for your having to enter through the rear of my home, but I thought it would not do to have you seen. After all, both of us are well-known to the public for quite different reasons and I would not want to prejudice your bid for the Senate by having it known you visited me.”

  “Don Carlo, I am honored that you receive me in your home.” He reached for Carlo’s extended hand and touched it to his forehead. “Thank you. I know you are a busy man.”

  “Have a seat Mr. Shaw.” Carlo pointed to a comfortable chair in front of his desk and Phillip sat down. “What brings you to me, Mr. Shaw? Surely you have not come to ask my business advice, not a man of your caliber and experience.”

  “No, Don Carlo, it is about another matter. My father suggested I talk to you.”

  “Ah yes, your father, I have been privileged to help him in the past. He has accomplished a great deal and deserves his retirement. He was always a hard working man and has a good head for business. We never socialized much for reasons I am sure you know, but I have always held your father in great esteem. Please give him my regards.”

  “Thank you, Don Carlo. I will. He will be glad to know you remember him fondly.”

  “Now, Mr. Shaw, what’s on your mind?”

  “I have to find somebody, Don Carlo, somebody who apparently does not want to be found. My father indicated that you might be able to help in such matters.”

  “It’s possible, Mr. Shaw. I have contacts that few others have and we are usually able to find missing persons, especially those who might not want to be found. Why do you want to find this person, if I might ask?”

  “I have reason to believe he has embezzled sixteen million dollars of my money.”

  “Embezzlement is a crime, Mr. Shaw, why don’t you just go to the police?”

  “Well, in the first place I don’t have sufficient proof to file a complaint. Second…”

  “You mean you are not sure that he is the one who did it, or you are not sure if the money was stolen?” interrupted Carlo.

  “Well, it’s a bit of both Don Carlo. I know that sixteen million dollars of contract indemnities were paid by the companies we acquired prior to the IPO and they were paid to offshore companies that have a rather suspicious ownership pattern. We think the money was, ah, skimmed, as it were, from the deals.”

  “You mean no one knew about the indemnities, Mr. Shaw?”

  “Oh no, they were duly paid and recorded in the acquisition documentation. The contracts were legal and the payment of the indemnities was duly noted.”

  “So there was no embezzlement then? At least not in any legal sense as I understand it. You, I mean the Shaw Corporation, paid the indemnity fees when you acquired the companies. You reported all the costs of acquisition properly, and the investors knew what they were buying. Is that right?”

  “That’s correct, Don Carlo.”

  “Then why do you want to find this person?”

  “Well, I suspect that he was the one who received the money from the indemnities. You see, the day after the IPO this man just never showed up again at work. No one can find him at his home and now his telephone has been disconnected.”

  “In other words, an employee has walked off the job without so much as a by your leave, is that it? Is this the first time an employee has simply walked off his job at the Shaw Corporation?”

  “No, it’s happened before but the conditions in this case…”

  “The conditions in this case indicate that the employee might have made a lot of money while working for you, is that it?”

  “Well, it’s actually my money. You see my company paid those fees.”

  “But weren’t those fees paid for breaking legal contracts? And didn’t you recover those in the sale price?”

  Phillip Shaw was getting exasperated but he dared not show impatience with Don Carlo Rizzo. “Well yes, but it just looks to me like the contracts were set up to ensure the payments when we acquired the companies.”

  “And you have proof of that?”

  “Well, no. But I have been in business for long enough to know that this whole thing smells funny.”

  “Well, so who is this person you want to find?”

  “He’s a former financial executive with the company. He worked on the IPO. His name is Charlie Mullins and he lives, or lived, in Shoreville, New Jersey.”

  “Irish, huh? What you described as embezzlement sounds like the kind of thing that only a Sicilian could cook up.” Carlo let a wry smile cross his face.

  Phillip continued, “I want to find this guy and get my sixteen million dollars back.”

  “What if you are wrong, Mr. Shaw? Suppose this fellow never took the money in the first place? Maybe he just got tired of working for a living and went off to the backwoods of Montana.”

  “With all due respect, Don Carlo, I’ve been in business a long time. I can tell when a deal smells bad and this one really stinks. Mullins was the guy who did all the due diligence on the deals. He reviewed all the numbers. He was in a position to benefit if he was so inclined. And his disappearance indicates to me that he was, in fact, so inclined. He’s got sixteen million dollars of my money and I would like to get it back. Can you help me, Don Carlo?” Phillip added the plea at the end of his statement because he realized he was becoming a little forceful and one did not do that with Don Carlo Rizzo.

  “Mr. Shaw, would you indulge an old man with some brief comments before I answer your question?”

  “Of course, Don Carlo.”

  “When I came to this country I was just a dumb, poor ‘wop’ kid. Other kids made fun of my accent and my lack of knowledge of English. I learned. I studied. A Sicilian priest took me under his wing and helped me learn to speak English properly. I pursued the American Dream and took a job when I finished high school. It was in construction. The engineer in charge of the project was stealing from me by shorting my wages. It was nothing like what you say Mr. Mullins did. He simply signed for one thing and paid another. I solved that problem and it’s of no interest to either of us now how I did it. But the one thing I learned from that experience is that people, especially those in power, have a sense of entitlement that somehow does not seem to be justified. You say the sixteen million dollars is yours. However, the papers show that the money was paid out for the cancellation of duly constituted contracts with the companies that you bought. You believe that this fellow Mullins received that money and you say that you are entitled to it.” Don Carlo had a menacing look on his face that caused Phillip Shaw to feel real fear. “You want me to find this Mullins person so you can take from him what might not even be yours to take. You come to me because you don’t have enough proof to file a complaint with the police. You have accused him because you feel that he has violated your sense of entitlement. You are a rich man, Mr. Shaw, you made a few billion more than you even expected to on the sale of your family’s company, and you begrudge a lousy sixteen million dollars to a man that you are not even sure took the money in the first place. Do you think you are being reasonable Mr. Shaw?”

  Phillip Shaw was ashen. He was both angry and frightened.

  “Let me continue, Mr. Shaw. You have come to me because you think I am just some dumb guinea who will punch the money out of this fellow Mullins. You obviously do not have a legal right to the money or you wouldn’t be talking to me at all. The fellow Mullins has stepped out of line in your mind. He has violated your sense of entitlement because he
is Mullins and you are Shaw. Who the hell does he think he is, right? Moreover, it is entirely possible that he simply hustled you and that leaves you mad as hell, doesn’t it? Imagine some dumb mick from Shoreville putting one over on Phillip Shaw. Who does he think he is? Am I right, Mr. Shaw, is that what this is all about?”

  “No, Don Carlo, it’s not that at all it’s just….”

  Don Carlo’s voice grew cold and Phillip Shaw was scared out of his wits. He had not expected a lecture from this man. He saw the cold in Carlo’s eyes and it sent a chill through his body.

  “Relax, Mr. Shaw, I’ll find this Mullins for you. You look like you could use a drink, would you like a glass of wine?”

  “Thank you, Don Carlo, yes that would be nice.” Shaw wanted only to be out of Carlo’s steely gaze.

  “Frankie, get a couple of glasses of wine for me and Mr. Shaw, please.”

  Carlo’s beefy bodyguard disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a fine red Tuscan wine and two glasses. Phillip Shaw’s hand was shaking as Frankie filled his glass with a wry smile on his face. Carlo took his glass and said, “Salute, Mr. Shaw we will find Mr. Mullins for you.”

  Phillip Shaw relaxed a bit and said, “I thank you Don Carlo, thank you. I will pay whatever you require.”

  “Oh no, Mr. Shaw, I would not think of charging you a cent to find Mr. Mullins. It so happens that he is in this house right now so there is no work involved.”

  Phillip Shaw turned white. “What?” his voice cracked. His hand started to shake uncontrollably and Frankie walked over and took the wine glass from him before he shook its contents all over the floor. “He’s here? What do you mean he’s here, Don Carlo? I don’t understand!”

  “Mr. Shaw, please calm down. Charlie Mullins is my son-in-law. He married my adopted daughter just a few days ago. He is staying here in the house and I think when you hear the rest of what I have to say, you will not share the information with anyone. Am I right?”