MBA - Moron$ Ba$ and A$$

by Jeff Blackwell

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Fortunate Son

  “Hello, Dad.”

  “Mick? A phone call? Didn’t you just call us a couple of months ago? Is it my birthday and someone forgot to tell me? Happy Birthday Daddy, got you on my mi-ind.”

  “Real funny, Dad. And The Little River Band song is about an anniversary, not a birthday.”

  “Yeah. I’m a laugh riot. So, what’s up, son?”

  “Dad, I need your advice and counsel on something pretty major. It’s not easy for me to tell you this, so I’ll just launch right in. Please listen till I’m finished and then you’ll have my undivided attention.”

  “Righto ranger.”

  “As you know, our financial results at Woodland have been pretty outstanding over the last few years.”

  “Yeah you have been ripping the cover off the old profit ball, knocking it out of the park, driving it straight down the middle…”

  “Dad, remember what I said about listening?”

  “Oops, sorry.”

  And apparently he was. Except for a few gasps and some clicking of his dentures, Dad remained quiet and attentive while I laid out the fraud story and my shameful suspicions about Earl. When I finished, there were a few seconds of silence. I could almost hear the gears engaging in his mind while he sorted through what I had told him.

  “Ok. Here’s what I think.”

  “Lay it on me, Dad. I know I let you down by doubting my best friend and…”

  “Ah, ah, ah. Now it’s your turn to give me some undivided attention.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ok, that’s more like it. You are right about Earl. You had a bit of a brain fart there. You should not have thought, for one second, that there was a single dishonest bone in that oversized body. Think about what you ate that caused that brain gas to build up.”

  “Whaaa??”

  “Shhh. I’m saying what made you start to suspect him? Jack. Right?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Beyond what’s on the surface, I really don’t know Jack. Ah, ah, no wise cracks. That’s too much of a softball. But think about it. I do know that Jack is a serious snake charmer. Jack is the one that put the blame for this squarely on Earl. Jack is the one that has access to your accounts, if I’m not mistaken. You told me that Jack liked the bling but didn’t have the blow to hang with it.”

  Geesh, my Dad, the gangsta.

  “Also, and this is the most important thing in my book, Jack cheats at golf.”

  “What?”

  “Recall that day we played? I went up that hill on eighteen to find my ball.”

  “The one you drowned on your next shot.”

  “Undivided attention? Anyway, as I was looking down at the fairway, I saw Jack drive over to where his ball landed. He looked for it for a few minutes until he realized it must have gone into the water. I saw him glance around and not spot anybody watching him, including me. He then proceeded to drop another ball out of his pocket and kick, a.k.a. foot wedge, it from behind the rocks into a nice fluffy lie. From there, he made that great shot. ”

  “So why didn’t you nail him for it?”

  “Look, I probably should have but you seemed to really like the guy. He was also your new hire and CFO. And it would have just been his word against some old man’s. However, in retrospect, I wish I had made a fuss. As I have said a time or two, a person that cheats in golf…”

  “… also cheats in life.”

  “So you do listen to your old pop on occasion. I’m not saying I’m one hundred percent sure that Jack ripped you off, but if it quacks like a duck, it ain’t no rooster.

  Earlisms can sometimes be contagious. “So why would Jack tell me someone was ripping us off? And what about the forensic accountant’s report? And why blame Earl?”

  “If you would watch less Golf Channel and a little more CSI or Law and Order, you could relate better to the criminal mind, like I do.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “Seriously. Think about it. First of all, he deflected attention away from himself by being the whistle blower. He gave you a stew that was a mixture of verifiable facts and harder to verify utter accounting crap. The accountant reported that you had been the victim of a fraud. However, it sounds like he reported it to Jack. It is nearly impossible to keep that information secret, so Jack told you and will share it with The Circle. Here is how Jack wants it to play out. Neither you nor any of the other Circle members will see the details in the report. Jack tosses them an unsuspecting perpetrator who is not present to defend himself. He might even have planted some minor evidence against Earl. When confronted, Earl denies it all. Since there is only circumstantial evidence, Jack recommends no criminal prosecution due to the lack of a smoking gun. You eventually fire Earl, write off the loss, and Jack pockets the money. Easy pickings. He will continue to find ways to rip you off until he leaves one day smiling all the way to the bank in his shiny Corvette thinking how he fleeced the rubes.”

  “Damn. I never knew this devious side of you, Dad.”

  “Truth be told, I think this was once the plot of a Murder She Wrote episode except it involved someone getting their head chopped off instead of financial fraud.”

  It was time for my mental gears to grind. Jack took back the report he gave me before I could read it. Barnum Security was hired by Jack. Jack did spend more time working in the office than anybody else. He was in there on his computer before we got there in the mornings and after we left at night doing God knows what. He was slick and seemed too good to be true. He cheated at golf. AND HE WAS ANOTHER FUCKING MBA.

  “Dad, I think you are on to something. So what do I do?”

  “Well, I might know just the person to help you. Let’s see how you can jump old Jack Flash.”