Due Diligence: A Thriller (37 page)

Wilson shuddered. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Okay. So, who is it?”

Wilson picked up the piece of paper with the details Mandy Bellinger had given him.

“Hold on, Mike. Hold on. I gotta write this down.”

Wilson heard Prinzi take a few steps. He imagined a dwarflike, barrel-chested man waddling across a room.

“Ahhh. Okay. Shoot.”

Wilson stared hard at the piece of paper in his hand.

“Michael, what is it? You wanna do this or not? What’s his name?”

Mike Wilson hesitated for one last moment. “Robert Holding.”

38

Rob opened his eyes. Emmy was watching him.

“What?” he murmured.

“Nothing.”

“You hear something?”

She shook her head. Rob listened. The noise of New York early on a Saturday morning. Emmy was still gazing at him, propped up on her elbow. Rob smiled blearily, sheepishly.

Emmy turned over, with her back to him, and nestled close. Rob kissed the back of her neck. He ran his hand over her arm. Then over the curve of her hip. Then lower.

“Mmmm…” murmured Emmy. She reached back and let her hand wander. “Ooh!” she said in a tone of mock surprise, then giggled as she got on top.

Afterward they lay side by side, hands entwined. Rob gazed at the ceiling, not thinking about anything in particular.

“How are you feeling?” said Emmy.

Rob smiled.

Emmy smiled for a second as well. Then she was serious. “Well?”

For a moment, Rob didn’t know what she meant. Making love with Emmy had driven it out of his head completely.

“I mean about what you did yesterday.”

“Oh,” said Rob. “Yeah. Fine. I’m all right, I guess.”

“You don’t regret it?”

Rob thought. Did he regret talking to the journalist? No. Not yet, anyway. He might feel differently by the end of the day, when the shit had really hit the fan.

He looked at the clock. Six-forty. He had to be in the war room again today. Saturdays and Sundays didn’t seem to mean anything anymore. But Sammy had gone easy on them this time. Told them to be in at nine.

“Shall I go get the
Herald
?” said Rob suddenly.

“Yeah. Go on. Go get it. I’ll make breakfast.”

“What will you make?”

Emmy frowned. “I may have a couple of eggs in the fridge…”

“No corn chips?”

“Funny.”

“Let’s go out,” said Rob. “The
Herald
and a champagne breakfast. What do you think?”

“Rob, the
Herald
doesn’t go with a champagne breakfast.”

“You’re right. The
Herald
and … pancakes.”

“Better,” said Emmy.

At the first newsstand they came to, Rob bought a copy of the
Herald
. He stopped to open it.

“Come on,” said Emmy, grabbing his hand. “It’s freezing!”

The wind was biting. They half-ran to a diner a couple of blocks away. Rob turned to the financial page of the paper. Emmy blew on her hands to warm them.

“Well?” she said.

“It’s not here.”

“Don’t look in the middle of the paper. It’s a big story!”

The waitress came. Emmy ordered coffee and pancakes for the two of them. Rob leafed through the paper.

“Well?”

“I can’t find it.”

Emmy sighed. “Hand it over.”

She went through the paper, page after advertisement-filled page. “Where’s the news in this thing?” she murmured. By the time the pancakes arrived, she had reached the same conclusion as Rob.

Rob frowned. “Why didn’t they print it?”

“Maybe this is an early edition.”

“I spoke to her at lunchtime, Emmy. How early can it get?”

“You want maple syrup?”

Rob didn’t want anything at that moment except to see the story in the paper.

Emmy waited a second, then poured maple syrup over her own pancakes. “They’re probably holding it back a day or two. You said yourself they’d been investigating for months. It’s a big story, right? They’re gonna make sure they get it right.” Emmy chewed on a piece of pancake. “You know what?” she said, waving her fork. “I bet they’re holding it back for tomorrow. It’s a great Sunday story.”

Rob grunted. “Maybe.”

“Eat!” said Emmy, waving her fork at him again.

He reached out for the maple syrup and drizzled the pancakes until they were soaking. He took a piece. Then he slurped a sip of coffee and ate more. Emmy was leafing through the paper.

“Look at this,” she said, shaking her head. “Some lady’s refusing to give her niece five hundred bucks because she’s marrying someone she doesn’t like. And she promised it to her from the day she was born.”

“Who does she want her to marry?”

Emmy frowned. “Some cripple. But with a heart of gold.”

“Yeah,” said Rob. “Isn’t that always the way?”

“She won’t give her the money.”

“How much did you say it was?”

“Five hundred bucks.”

Rob laughed. “Get a life!”

Emmy nodded and kept reading the column.

Later, they walked back to the apartment.

“You going to be working all day?” asked Emmy.

Rob shrugged. Since the story hadn’t been published, work in the war room would continue. “I really thought the story was going to be there.”

“It will be. Look, if you’re so worried, call up the journalist.”

Rob thought about it. It was less than twenty-four hours since he had given the information. Emmy was right. They probably had some checking of their own to do before they published something like that.

“Well?” said Emmy.

“No. It’ll be there.”

“Okay. So, is it all day today?”

“Sammy says we’re in good shape. A few hours’ work this morning on our section of the due diligence report, maybe early afternoon, we’ll be done.”

“Isn’t Greg moving into your apartment today?”

“No, that’s tomorrow.”

“And you’re going to stay … where, exactly?” said Emmy.

“Well, there’s this young lady I know.”

“Isn’t that rather presumptuous, Mr. Holding?”

“She likes presumptuous.”

Emmy laughed. “Does she just?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

Emmy slapped him on the arm.

“Thanks.”

“You deserved it!”

Their eyes met. Suddenly there was more to that slap than a mock rebuke over Rob’s presumptuousness. There was more to everything now. It was out in the open, the question that had been buried between them for months. Rob had promised to deal with it and Emmy’s gaze told him that she had decided to give him a little more time and see if he did. But he didn’t know how long she would wait. At some point, he knew, it would burst out again. If he was lucky, she would wait until this deal was over, until he had some time to think. If he wasn’t lucky, it would be tonight.

But not this morning. She huddled close to him as they walked into the cold breeze.

“Will Greg need any help to get his stuff to your place?” asked Emmy.

“Don’t know.” Rob thought about it. “That’s a good question. I’ll find out.”

39

Sammy was right. They were in good shape. Until Phil Menendez walked into the war room at eleven o’clock and told them that with the extra two billion of debt, the banks were asking for all kinds of covenants and triggers and they were going to have to rework the loan schedule and model a whole new bunch of scenarios. Soon they were deep in the work. At first Rob felt a little false, thinking how all this effort was going to be wasted once the
Herald
published his story. But then the numbers took over and he was absorbed in the work as well. They ordered in sushi and worked through lunch. At about three o’clock, Rob got a phone call. It was Greg.

“You set for tomorrow?” asked Rob, realizing that he had forgotten all about him.

“Actually,” said Greg, “I was wondering if I could get over to your place today.”

“Umm … sure,” said Rob.

“Were you planning to be there?”

“No, not at all. Only, I haven’t cleaned it and I won’t have a chance—”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Greg. “That doesn’t matter. You don’t mind, right? You’d tell me if you minded?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re not using it?”

“No, I’ll be at Emmy’s.”

“Turns out Louise is coming back tomorrow morning. I thought it was tomorrow night. I mean, I could stay tonight and get out early tomorrow, but right now I just want to get out. I just want to get it done.”

“Sure. Greg, listen, the place is yours. I wanted to ask you, you need help with your stuff?”

“No, it’ll take a couple of trips, that’s all.”

“All right, well, why don’t you go pick a key up from Emmy. You know where her apartment is?” He gave Greg the address and told him he’d call to let Emmy know he was coming. “The place is yours. There’s sheets and towels and … it’s yours, just use it.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

“Wait till you see the state of it before you thank me.”

Greg laughed, a little sadly.

“Hey, you going to be all right?” said Rob.

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“It’s just one of those things, right?” said Greg. “You’ve got to go through it. It’s life. No downs, no ups.”

“That’s right.”

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

“At least your appetite for clichés hasn’t suffered.”

Greg laughed again, in the same way.

“You know we’re here for you, Greg.”

“Sure. I know that, Rob.”

“Both of us. Me and Emmy.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, make yourself at home when you get there. If you can find any liquor, it’s yours. Drink yourself into a stupor if that’ll help. I’ll call you later to make sure everything’s okay.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll call you later.”

At about six o’clock, Phil Menendez came back. He was on his way somewhere, head freshly shaved, reeking of fragrance and dressed in a tux. Blue velvet jacket with big lapels and a big velvet bow tie. Very tasteful. He looked like a shiny, blue, bullet-headed beetle.

Sammy had a set of outputs of the loan scenarios ready for him. Menendez grabbed them and sat down. Rob watched as Menendez ran his eyes over the pages, wondering what it was like to be inside that belligerent head, what the world looked like from in there. What it was going to look like tomorrow after the
Herald
came out.

Menendez was happy with the outputs, even Rob could see that. He was struggling not to let it show.

“They’re not complete,” said Sammy. “We have a couple more scenarios to run.”

Menendez threw the sheets back at Sammy. “We’ll see what John Golansky says when he sees them,” he said, as if that were the only threat he could think of. “He wants the complete set five
P.M.
tomorrow.” Menendez got up.

“Hey, Phil, where are you going?” asked Rob on some kind of wild, disinhibited whim.

Menendez looked at him incredulously. “What the fuck difference does it make to you?” He shook his head. “Little fuck,” he muttered as he left the room.

“Like I fucking care,” muttered Rob as the door closed.

“He’s going to a dinner function with his fiancée, if you want to know,” said Sammy. “At least, I believe that’s what he’s doing.”

Cynthia and Rob glanced at each other incredulously.

“Dressed like that?” said Rob.

“He has a fiancée?” said Cynthia.

*   *   *

Emmy was having a glass of wine when Rob got home. It was after eleven.

“I’ve taken to drinking alone,” she explained.

“That’s nice,” said Rob.

“But you’re going to join me.”

“I don’t know, Emmy. I’m kind of tired…”

Emmy was already pouring him a glass.

“But on the other hand, how can I say no?”

“Cheers,” said Emmy.

They clinked. Emmy sat down on the sofa and beckoned to Rob. He wondered just how many glasses she’d already had.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“Yeah, okay. Cut a loan schedule,” he said, as if he did it every day of the week.

“How interesting,” said Emmy, as if she cared. “Greg came for the key.”

Greg! Rob had forgotten all about him.

“He didn’t look too good. I decided to go with him. Helped him move his stuff in.”

“Thanks, Em. I really appreciate it. Did he have much stuff?”

Emmy shook her head. “Couple of suitcases. A few boxes. He said he was leaving the bigger stuff until he had a place of his own. We had coffee afterward at that little place you like on Tenth.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. That’s okay. I think he just welcomed the company. He didn’t need to say anything. If he’d just wanted me to sit there, that would’ve been fine.” Emmy sighed. “He’s a really nice guy. He deserves someone way better than that Snookums bitch.”

“I’m not going to lose you to him, am I?” said Rob.

“Well, you never know. Me and the bottle, we get lonely sometimes.”

Rob looked at her. She shrugged.

He glanced at his watch. “I said I was going to call him.”

“Yeah?” said Emmy. “You should.”

“It’s not too late?”

Emmy shook her head.

Rob wasn’t sure. Hugging her wineglass, Emmy didn’t look like a woman whose judgment was at its peak.

“Honey, if you said you would, you should. This isn’t the time to let him down. Call his cell phone. If he’s asleep, he’ll have turned it off.”

Rob nodded. He rang Greg’s cell. Greg answered.

“You’re still awake?” said Rob.

“Apparently.”

“Sorry I’m calling so late. I got held up.”

“No problem.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to check. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, there’s just—”

“What’s that you’re listening to?” Rob laughed. “You having a party over there?”

“No, it’s this radio you’ve got in here. I’ve been fiddling with the alarm.”

“You work out how to use it?”

“Yeah. Look, there’s this blind here in the bedroom. I’ve been trying to get it down…”

“There’s kind of a trick to that. I should’ve told you.” Rob explained how to do it. The mechanism for the cord was broken and the only way to get the blind down was to manually release it.