Swimming with Sharks (23 page)

June 6, 2000—LMI

The glass door to Alex’s office flew open, and Mark stormed in. He had a concerned look on his face.

“Hello, Mark.” Alex looked up from her documents. “What’s up?”

He closed the door behind him.

“Did you take a look at the price of PBA Steel today?”

“Yes, this morning.” She looked at her usually calm employee in surprise. “It was at seventeen and a half.”

“Two minutes ago it was twenty-six and three-quarters.”

“Pardon me?” She turned toward her monitors and pulled up the ticker. In disbelief, she stared at the quote for PBA Steel—which had already risen by another dollar.

“That’s impossible!”

She quickly ran this information through her mind. Her client Blue Steel, the largest independent steel company on the East Coast, had just offered last week to take over the ailing but long-established Pittsburgh steel mill for 21.8336 dollars per share on her advice. And all of this was still unknown by the public. PBA Steel’s management was hesitant and wanted to ask its shareholders whether they would agree to the takeover by Blue Steel. Even for market professionals, nothing indicated that such a takeover offer was imminent because PBA was far from bankrupt and still valued as a solid and stable company.

On the other hand, Blue Steel was sitting on above-average profits generated by its new management and looking for investment opportunities to avoid taxes from eating into those earnings. For this reason, Alex had scoured the market and come across PBA Steel. All in all, it was intended to be an unspectacular and rather average deal. The telephone rang, and she picked it up with an uneasy feeling. It was Marty Freeman, the president of Blue Steel.

“Alex, have you looked at PBA lately?” he yelled into the telephone. “Was what you suggested to us some kind of joke? We offer twenty-one dollars per share, and now it’s racing toward thirty! How can it be that a stock priced below twenty dollars for years suddenly takes off like this?”

“I don’t know either, Marty,” Alex said, trying to calm him. “I’ve been following PBA for weeks, and I looked back over the years. There were minimal price fluctuations of a few cents here and there. My calculations were perfectly in order.”

“Let me tell you something,” Freeman said, lowering his voice a few decibels, “someone got wind of this deal! We’re not interested in a takeover if we have to pay fifty dollars per share. You know as well as I do that this scrap heap isn’t worth that much!”

Their conversation went back and forth like this for a while as the stock price kept rising. It was already clear that PBA Steel was overvalued, and the SEC would invariably initiate an investigation—at the very latest after Blue Steel’s public announcement of its takeover bid.

“That son of a bitch!” Alex cursed after Freeman hung up. “Now he’s going too far!”

“Do you think that Zack is behind this?” Mark raised his eyebrows, and Alex nodded grimly. After keeping the Maxxam deal secret from Zack and demonstrating to him that she was in the know about him, she had continued to cooperate on trivial things. Neither of them had uttered a word about the incident at Luna Luna, but their relationship had been cool and purely professional since then.

“Mark,” Alex said, thinking rapidly, “if it was Zack, we need to find out right now. I don’t care how you do it, but I want to know. Preferably before the close of the market.”

“And what if it really is him? Then what?” Mark asked.

“Then I’ll teach him a lesson that he won’t soon forget,” Alex answered. Mark left, and she followed him across the trading floor. At this time of the day, the traders had their hands full. Phones were ringing; there were hollers, wild gestures, and waves. Some traders had a phone to each ear and another in hand. Alex threw a glance at the LED ticker at the front of the large trading floor, constantly updating the quoted values of NYSE-listed stocks. Marty Freeman must have taken her for a fool! Her thoughts were racing. On her way out the sliding glass door, which led from the trading floor to the hallway, she nearly collided with Zack.

“Oh, hello, Alex,” he said, grinning in an overly friendly way. “How’s business?”

“Excellent.” She forced an equally phony smile. She knew he hated her since her magnificent success with Maxxam. But was he really so dumb as to use confidential information in such a blatantly obvious way? Or was he trying to trip her up? Insider trading was a serious violation. She swore to herself she’d only give him information one last time. But this one would be unforgettable.

“Can I buy you lunch?” Zack asked.

“Sorry, I’m busy. Maybe some other time.”

“Well”—he casually threw his Armani jacket over his shoulder and turned away to leave—“good luck.”

She watched him disappear in to the elevator. It was about time for her to stop this cat-and-mouse game. Levy
had
to notice that she had become suspicious. Depending on his reaction, she could determine whether he was a part of this, or if Zack was working for himself.

Alex went back to her office. After a moment, she dialed Max Rudensky’s number and waited impatiently for him to pick up. Max had been
a broker for many years in London and New York. After exchanging the usual courtesies, she cut straight to the point. She asked if he had heard anything about PBA Steel in the market. It wasn’t unusual for her to ask him for advice, and in the past he had pointed out one or another good deal to her. But since seeing him at Sergio’s party, she had realized that the deals he recommended were exclusively with companies in which the dubious SeViCo held shares. If she was really right about this, then Max would inform Zack about her call in no time. Or maybe even Sergio. This thought was far scarier. Up to now, she had still hoped that Sergio wasn’t involved in any of this.

Just as Alex expected, Rudensky pretended to be clueless, but she didn’t much care anyway. She was only interested in whether he would call Zack. While she waited for Mark to come back, she stared at her desk in a morbid mood. The PBA Steel deal had gone down the drain. An hour later, Mark returned and let himself sink into a chair, out of breath.

“Most of the stock purchases were made by a firm called Manhattan Portfolio Management,” he reported. “Rudensky has been buying like crazy. None of our traders knows where the other purchases are coming from.”

Alex nodded. She had expected Rudensky’s involvement in this buying spree, but who was Manhattan Portfolio Management? She had heard this name before, but where?

“What are we going to do now?” Mark wanted to know. At that moment, Alex remembered. Manhattan Portfolio Management. Jack Lang. Sergio’s birthday party! Zack had talked about offshore companies with him!

“We need to find out who’s behind this MPM,” she said with determination. “Zack knows this firm pretty well. I’m sure of it. But how can we find out?”

“We could try the commercial register,” Mark suggested.

“That’s a good idea.” Alex sat upright and smiled grimly. “I’ll let you take care of it, Mark. In the meantime I’ll prepare a nice little trap.”

She had a great idea to teach Zack a painful lesson.

When the market closed, PBA Steel had reached an all-time high at thirty-two dollars per share. Whoever had tried to push up the price acted exceptionally imprudently because PBA Steel was obviously the topic of the day. Alex dialed Zack’s extension, and he answered immediately.

“Did you see PBA?” she asked innocently. “Unbelievable what happened there, right?”

“Yes, indeed,” he answered, as slippery as an eel, “and all of this on the day after you told me that something could be in it for us with PBA.”

“I have to admit I suspected that you were behind this rise in the stock price,” Alex said and laughed. Zack joined in her laughter after a few seconds, but it sounded forced.

“In that case, we suspected each other.”

“Nonsense,” she countered, “what interest should we have in the stock price skyrocketing like this? The deal is dead, and the people at Blue Steel are pretty pissed off.”

She waited for Zack’s reaction.

“Vince won’t be pleased if this deal falls through.”

“Well, tough luck,” Alex replied. “My calculations were based on twenty-one dollars per share. But it’s not all that bad. Because I have something else in the works.”

“Really? What is it?” Zack couldn’t hide his curiosity.

“Hey, not so fast! I’m still working on it. It could be as big as the Maxxam deal, if not bigger.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“I’ll tell you about it soon enough. I’m still in the initial talks. But this could turn out to be a sensation.”

“Come on, don’t torture me like that!”

Alex grinned. She could vividly imagine Zack sliding back and forth in his chair with dollar signs in his eyes.

“Okay,” she said, “my prospective client is looking for opportunities to increase their share capital. They’ve made many large investments recently and are strained for cash as a result, but they still want to acquire a well-known company. I had the idea of creating a limited partnership and launching a fund that invests in promising start-ups. It’s risky, but the returns could be gigantic. I also thought about high-yield bonds. Oh, I’m already revealing way too much.”

“Sounds very interesting. You’re a smart girl. How about having dinner with me tonight?”

Bastard,
Alex thought. Everything that she’d just told Zack was a product of her imagination. There was no new client. She had laid the bait, and now she just had to wait for Zack to take it. Alex sensed a tingling excitement rising in her. She was a skillful strategist, with a hunter’s instinct. Certainly she wouldn’t let anyone force her into the role of the hunted. It was five thirty when Mark returned in an excited mood.

“Did you find anything?” Alex asked.

“Of course.” He grinned mysteriously. “I have a friend who works in public administration. She looked up everything that I needed to know.”

He rummaged in his briefcase and pulled out a copy of the articles of incorporation. Alex didn’t want to know how he’d managed to get it, but the fact that he did proved how capable he was.

“The managing director of Manhattan Portfolio Management is a certain Jackson Patrick Lang, residing on Leroy Street in the West Village,” he said. “And now hold on to your seat, Alex.”

She looked at Mark expectantly.

“Manhattan Portfolio Management—abbreviated MPM—belongs to Venture Capital SeaStarFriends Limited Partnership.”

“That’s impossible,” Alex said, shaking her head. “Some US citizen must be registered.”

“No, not according to applicable law. I talked to a lawyer who specializes in corporate law, and he confirmed it.” Mark excitedly leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Do you understand what this means? We found a connection to LMI! Funds launched in-house were invested in an offshore company incorporated in the British Virgin Islands called SeaStarFriends! Do you remember?”

Alex stared at him, speechless.

“Of course I do,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

“Now we only have to find out who’s behind SeaStarFriends,” Mark said, “and then we know whether Zack acts on his own account or on the orders of Vince Levy.”

He turned around as if expecting Zack to appear behind him.

“It’s quite obvious already,” he whispered. “LMI wouldn’t launch a fund with capital of five hundred million dollars to invest in a third-party venture-capital company. They want the money to stay in-house, after all.”

“Of course.”

Thousands of questions flooded Alex’s brain. It was impossible to find detailed information about a company incorporated in an offshore location because there were no mandatory disclosures or accounting rules so long as the company only did business with other companies outside that location.

“Well, there’s someone who’s a real expert when it comes to offshore companies,” Mark said, hesitating. Alex sighed.

“I know him too,” she answered, “but I doubt that he’ll help you once he finds out that I’m involved.”

“Oliver is my friend,” Mark said. “He can only say no.”

She didn’t feel comfortable asking Oliver Skerritt for a favor, but in the end her curiosity prevailed. She wanted to know who was making illegal money through her deals. The telephone rang.

“Answer it, Mark,” she said quickly. “If it’s Zack, tell him I just left.”

It was Zack. Alex smiled bitterly. The fish was still carefully but greedily circling the bait. She scribbled some notes on a piece of paper that Zack wouldn’t be able to miss when snooping around her office. Without a doubt, he had called just to see whether she was still there. He would wait a little longer and then come over to search her desk.

Have fun, Mr. St. John,
Alex thought, stepping into the elevator with Mark.
I hope you burn your fingers on this one!