Fast and Loose

21

Charles Fox listened to the recording from the tiny bug he had placed in Macher’s office and smiled. The man sounded as if he were coming unglued, and that was exactly what Fox wished to happen. He knew that a board meeting had been called for later that morning, and he would record that, as well.

Macher rose as the board members filed into his office and took their seats at the conference table. He sat down opposite them. “Good morning, gentlemen. What is the purpose of this meeting?”

“The purpose,” the chairman said drily, “is to discuss the failure of the takeover bid for the Carlsson Clinic.”

“Are you implying that this is my failure?” Macher asked.

“Erik, you are the CEO — the buck stops with you.”

“May I remind you that Christian St. Clair initiated the takeover bid, presumably with the agreement of this board? And that Christian made a bid that could only be described as ‘lowball,’ thus starting a bidding war?”

“While both of those things are nominally true,” the chairman said, “they are irrelevant. We are discussing your actions.”

“I took no actions,” Erik said.

“Exactly. And there are times when no action is an affirmative action.”

“Because of the lowball nature of Christian’s bid, my only option was to offer a price higher than I deemed the clinic to be worth,” Macher said through gritted teeth. “I am not in the business of paying more than a thing is worth. Had we offered the one hundred and fifty percent to begin with, we would now control the Carlsson Clinic. You may complain to the ghost of Christian St. Clair about that.”

“Also,” the chairman said, “it has come to the attention of the board that you are now a suspect in the smuggling of a large quantity of cocaine aboard the company yacht.”

Macher shot a glance at Tommy Berenson, whose gaze was now directed at a point at the approximate height of the room’s crown molding. “I want you all to listen to me very carefully,” Macher said, and he gave them an account of the incident aboard the yacht. “I hope that is perfectly clear, because I am not going to explain it to you again.”

“So,” said the chairman, “as I understand it, we will not know for some time whether these charges are true.”

“There are no charges extant,” Macher said.

“I must tell you frankly, Erik, that if these charges are substantiated, we will be required to demand your resignation with immediate effect.”

“What charges?”

“Surely you have heard everything I have said,” the chairman said.

“Of course, but apparently you have heard nothing I have said. Let me put it this way — there are two possible outcomes to this investigation. First, that the substance found is not cocaine, in which case no charges will be filed. Second, that the substance is cocaine, in which case the culprit will be seen to be Christian St. Clair, who will not appear to speak in his defense.”

“So you say.”

“So I say. Is there anything else to discuss?”

“Not at this moment.”

“Good. This meeting is adjourned. Tommy, you remain.”

The men filed out, and Berenson remained. A thin film of perspiration had appeared on his upper lip.

“Erik, I have not violated your confidence,” Berenson said.

“Then how did news of the incident aboard the yacht come to the board’s attention?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know it would be brought up.”

“Tommy, if you are lying to me you will pay dearly.”

“I swear to you, I had no knowledge of this, and I have spoken to no one about our conversation.”

“Very well, I will take your word for it. You may go.”

Berenson went, and quickly.

In his office, Charles Fox listened with considerable amusement. When the recording had finished, he took out a cell phone and called Ed Rawls.

“Hey, Charley, what’s going on around there?”

“In a word, Ed, pandemonium.”

“I’m happy to hear it. Is this the result of our collaboration on the Coast Guard event?”

“It is, certainly. Macher, if he wasn’t paranoid before, is now climbing the walls, and it would not surprise me if that has the effect of a more serious attempt on the Carlssons or Barrington, or all of them.”

“Well, we knew that would have to happen before we achieve a resolution of this sorry affair, didn’t we?”

“I suppose we did.”

“And we will achieve a satisfactory resolution,” Rawls said.

“I hope so.”

“I think the time has come for you to meet Stone Barrington.”

“I’d like that very much,” Fox replied.

“Call him at this number in half an hour,” Rawls said, dictating it.