Due Diligence: A Thriller (18 page)

Murdoch shrugged.

Wilson tried to remember. Stan’s salary was around four hundred thousand; bonuses and options would double that. The severance was probably … a million, maybe.

If he never worked again, how much would he need? How much would be a lot for a guy like Stan? Not much, probably. He wasn’t extravagant. As far as Wilson knew, he and his wife lived a pretty quiet life. They had a place in Baton Rouge, a second house somewhere near Lafayette, he seemed to remember, where Stan went fishing. That was their only indulgence.

“I’ll triple it,” said Wilson. “I can’t put it in writing right now, you understand, but you have my word. You know me. If I say it, I’ll do it.”

Murdoch watched him.

“Is that enough? I figure, you know, we’ll need a consultant as well. Someone who knows the business.” Wilson was pretty sure he was on the right track now. “Huh, Stan? Maybe a few days a month. I figure someone like that would be worth another two, three hundred a year.”

Murdoch nodded. “You sure do want this deal, don’t you?”

“Times are changing, Stan.”

“We’ve done pretty good up till now.”

“Times are
changing.
We’ll get left behind. Come on, Stan. You were never a big-picture guy. Leave the strategy to me. You’re an operator. You’re a great operator. Let’s be clear. I don’t want to lose you.”

“But you’re prepared to?”

“I want you to do what’s right for you and Annie. If you want to kick back, put your feet up, that’s fine. Hell, how old are you Stan? Sixty-one? Sixty-two, right? You deserve it.”

“You’d be happy if I did that?”

“No, but if that’s what you want … Stan, the company’s bigger than any one person. You know that. It’s bigger than me, it’s bigger than you, it’s bigger than anyone.”

“Yeah, only some guys know how to use it better than others, don’t they?”

Wilson didn’t say anything to that. He gazed at Stan, trying to work out what he meant. Murdoch knew him better than anyone else at Louisiana Light, better than anyone in Baton Rouge. He knew him from the InterNorth days. Back then, Mike Wilson hadn’t been so circumspect in the way he handled his personal life. A lot of executives at InterNorth gambled hard, but none harder than him.

“Company jet,” said Stan. “Takes you wherever you want to go. Whenever you feel the need.”

There was silence.

Then Wilson laughed. “Yeah, the travel’s a killer, isn’t it?”

Murdoch stood up.

Wilson stood up as well. “We got a deal? If you want to leave. It’s up to you, I’m not asking you to. But if you do want to leave, you happy with that? What I said to you?”

“I’d say it’s very generous. I don’t know that I deserve such a generous offer.”

Wilson laughed. “You deserve every cent.” He put out his hand. “So we’ve got a deal?”

“If I want to leave?”

Wilson nodded.

Stan shook his hand. “Okay, Mike,” he said, and he turned to go.

“You going back to your production meeting?”

Stan looked back at him and nodded.

“How often do you have that?”

“Once a month.”

“We do this deal and you want to go, that means you’ve only got two, three more of those to sit through.”

Murdoch gazed at him for a moment. “I guess that’s right.”

Wilson smiled. “How does that make you feel, huh? Probably feels pretty good.”

Murdoch opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. “I’ll see you later, Mike,” he said, and left the office.

Wilson watched him go. Everyone was a winner, he thought. Even Stan.

Now he was going to get this mess with the
Herald
sorted out.

18

He was in fighting mood. The initial shock had gone and left him itching to hit back. Wilson glanced at the time. Almost ten. Eleven o’clock in New York.

He picked up the phone to Lyall Gelb. Gelb had been taking calls from analysts all morning.

“What are you telling them?” asked Wilson.

“What do you think? It’s baseless.”

“Okay. Get in here. We need to figure out what the fuck to do about this.”

As he spoke, Wilson was looking at Bloomberg on his computer screen. The stock price was 44.40, almost six dollars down from its close after the quarterly results were reported. He picked up the phone to Stella while he waited for Gelb. Calls had been coming in for him from all over. Bankers, lawyers, anyone who knew anything about the deal, and a bunch of people who didn’t. He told Stella to cancel his meetings for the morning. While he was speaking to her, a call came through from Amanda Bellinger in New York. Wilson took it. Bellinger had been trying to find out more about the source for the article.

“Tell me,” said Wilson

“The guy who edits the financial page at the
Herald
is called Marv Koller.”

“Never heard of him.”

“I should hope not,” said Amanda. “Horrible man. Worst kind of lizard.”

“You’ve had something to do with him?” asked Wilson.

“Once or twice. Anyway, I’ve spoken to him this morning.”

“Who gave him the story?”

“He won’t reveal his source, naturally. Said he’d be happy to give you right of reply. Wants to interview you.”

“When?” demanded Wilson.

“Mike, don’t be ridiculous! That’s exactly what he wants. He’s got nothing and the fact that he wants to interview you proves it. The only thing he can hope for is that you come out and say something that gives the story legs. Otherwise, it’s going to wither on the vine. We just need to sit tight and let it wither.”

“You don’t think we should threaten to sue him?”

“Mike, for heaven’s sake! Oh my God! Mike, don’t even think about that.”

“We should sue the motherfucking lizard!”

“You’re not going to sue him,” said Bellinger.

“Won’t it look like we’ve got something to hide if we don’t hit back hard?”

“No, that’s exactly what’ll make you look like you
have
got something to hide. No one takes the
Herald
seriously. You take them seriously only if there’s something serious to be taken.”

“What if we send some kind of a letter demanding a retraction? Maybe we send it to some other paper as well so they publish it.”

“You won’t need to send it to anyone else, Mike. Marv Koller will publish it for you.”

“Good!”

“And then he won’t retract. And what are you going to do then?”

Wilson was silent.

“Mike, you’re angry. I understand. But trust me, the way to handle this is to deal with it like it’s beneath contempt. Here’s the line we take. We’re above this kind of garbage. We’re not going to dignify it by a response. Yesterday, we put out a great set of results. Judge us by our actions, not by innuendo. Mike, how does that sound?”

Wilson thought about it. It sounded kind of meek. His instinct was to hit back, not turn the other cheek. “You really think that’s the best thing?” he asked doubtfully.

“It’s the only thing, Mike.” Amanda said it with utter conviction. “It’s the only way to handle this kind of stuff.”

“I shouldn’t talk to him?”

“Mike!”

“Okay. Look, talk to Jackie Rubin in our press office. My secretary says she’s been bugging me for a press release.”

“No! No press release.”

“So talk to her, will you?”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for. Mike, leave everything to me. I’ll call Jackie up right now. You don’t do this through a press release, you do it quietly. I’ll talk to the key people on the Street myself. But quietly, Mike, understand? Subtly. Understated. I’ll tell them I’ve talked to Koller, he’s got nothing, the best he can do is ask to interview you. They’ll recognize it for what it is, a fishing expedition. No one takes the
Herald
seriously. If you overreact, that’s when they’ll start sniffing around.”

“Okay. Let’s go with that for a start. I’m gonna talk to Doug Earl down here on the legal side as well—” There was a knock on the door. “Mandy, hold on.”

Stella came in. “I have Mr. Gelb outside, Mr. Wilson.”

“Have him wait, Stella. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

“All right, Mr. Wilson.”

“Okay, Mandy,” said Wilson when Stella had left. “You handle it like you said. Now, we’ve got something else to think about.”

“Yes, I realize that,” said Amanda. “The source.”

“The
Herald
guy, he wouldn’t have just made this up, would he?”

“No,” said Amanda. “I don’t think even Marv Koller would make something up entirely out of nothing. Although if it was a slow day…”

“Then I’m going to assume there’s a source,” said Wilson. “Someone’s spreading lies about us, Mandy.”

“Clearly. The first thing to ask is who could have something to gain from it?” Amanda paused. “And you seem awfully worked up about this, Mike, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Are you serious?” demanded Wilson. “Have you seen what it’s done to the stock price?”

“With respect, Mike, if it is garbage—which I’m sure it is—then it’ll blow over soon enough. If not, your next set of results will disprove it, won’t they? So if there is any damage, it’s short term. And so, I’m thinking, if you’re so worried about a little short-term damage, there must be something happening in the short term.”

Wilson didn’t reply. Amanda Bellinger was smart.

“Mike? Is there something else I should know?”

“Listen, Mandy. I can’t tell you yet. When it’s time for you to know, you’ll know.”

“So there
is
something?”

“Mandy, how long have you worked with me? You’ll handle the PR, I promise you, but I can’t tell you what it is yet.”

“Okay, Mike. That’s fine. Let me ask you, how important is this thing you can’t tell me about?”

“Very,” said Wilson.

“And it’s something that…” Amanda paused. “Say your stock price goes down further over the next couple of weeks, that’s going to make a difference?”

“Yes,” said Wilson.

“A big difference?”

“Yes.”

“A make-or-break difference?”

“Mandy, don’t ask me anything else. I can’t answer it.”

There was silence from Amanda. She’d probably already figured out there was some kind of a deal on the stove, thought Wilson.

“Okay,” said Amanda. “We need to get this source. Like I said, I start with the motive. Who stands to gain from starting a rumor like this?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.”

“And?”

Wilson thought. It wasn’t Stan.

“Anyone?” said Amanda.

BritEnergy itself could benefit by starting a rumor, thought Wilson. Drop the stock price, get a better deal. But that would be a dangerous game to play. Could make Louisiana Light look so bad that BritEnergy’s own board wouldn’t approve the deal. Besides, everyone was a winner already. That was the whole point.

“No,” said Wilson. “Right now, I can’t think of anyone, Mandy. But we’re going to try to figure it out.”

“All right. Let me know if you do. In the meantime I’ll see if I can find anything out at my end. Discreetly. I did notice one thing. There was something a little odd in the
Herald
today. I had one of my people check a few back copies. Apparently, there aren’t usually any bylines on the financial page, just Koller’s imprimatur. Today they had someone else credited with additional reporting.”

“You think that’s important?”

“Can’t hurt to find out. Listen, Mike. This is important, right? If you had to, you’d spend a little money on this?”

“How much?”

“I don’t know. Five figures. Maybe a hundred thousand. Would that be out of the question?”

“No, not if it could shut this down. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just a thought.” Amanda paused. “Let me see what happens. I’ll let you know if it comes to anything.”

Wilson called off. Amanda Bellinger put the phone down.

She stared out the window of her office, thinking about Mike Wilson. New York traffic moved below her. Absently, she began to finger her brooch.

He was forceful when he was angry, she thought. Impetuous. Like a bull butting at a tree, needing an outlet for his rage. Violent, virile, hotheaded.

Her mind wandered.

She raised an eyebrow, half in surprise, half in pleasure. Amanda, she thought, you’re getting quite wet.

*   *   *

In his office, Wilson waited until Gelb sat down. “Where’s the stock?” he asked.

“Steady. Forty-four-point-nine last time I looked.”

“That’s back up a little.”

Gelb shrugged.

Wilson watched him. He didn’t like the way Gelb looked. Drawn, dark bags under his eyes. As if he hadn’t been sleeping much. Wilson didn’t like the discouraged tone he heard in his voice.

“How do you think it happened?” said Wilson.

“I don’t know.”

“I talked to Stan. It wasn’t him.”

“Can you be sure?”

“I’m telling you it wasn’t.”

“Maybe it was someone else from the board.”

“No.” Wilson shook his head emphatically. “That wouldn’t happen. Why would they? They’re all going to get something out of it.”

“What about Imogen DuPont?”

Wilson laughed.

“What, you don’t think she’d leak just because she’s a lawyer? She was a politician, Mike. Don’t forget that.”

“Hell, Imogen DuPont wouldn’t know enough to tell whether a revenue’s been booked up front, down back, or upside down. All she cares about is following the rules.”

“The article was vague. Just the kind of thing you might say if you don’t know anything about the details.”

“Please,” said Wilson. “Forget Imogen DuPont. Let’s try and get to the bottom of this.”

Lyall grimaced.

Wilson looked at him sharply. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Last few days, I’ve been getting stomach pains.” Gelb rubbed at his belly.

“You got an ulcer?”

“I don’t know.” Lyall winced again.

“You should see a doctor. By the way, how’s Becky?”

Lyall nodded. “She’s fine. Doing good.”

“They do that keyhole surgery for appendectomies nowadays?”

“Yeah.”

“I remember when Joey had an appendectomy,” said Wilson. “This is going back … twenty years. More. Hell, he was in the hospital for a week. Then another month before he went back to school. Huh? And now it’s what? A few days?”