Helpless

Chapter 65

Marvin Pressman used the power of intention to create the perfect parking space. As he cruised the one-way streets and maddening intersections of downtown Boston in his pre-owned Subaru Impreza, he softly recited his foolproof space-making mantra. “There’ll be a space in front of the building…. There’ll be a space in front of the building.” Sure enough, as Marvin neared the twelve-story office tower where Cortland & Associates was headquartered, the taillights of a gray sedan flashed, and soon after, the car vacated a metered space five steps from his destination.

Marvin fished two hours’ worth of quarters from an ashtray that had never been blemished by a single ash. He exited the car, fed the meter, and paused to study his reflection in the building’s tall ground-level window.

You’re getting there…. Five more pounds…

Hugging his briefcase close to his side, Marvin spun through the revolving glass door and emerged into an air-conditioned marble foyer that spoke of success. He signed in at the security desk, stuck his peel-away name badge to his suit’s breast pocket, and took the elevator to the tenth floor.

Gold-plated letters spelling out CORTLAND & ASSOCIATES filled one black marble wall of the tenth-floor lobby. The double glass doors to Cortland’s offices were locked, and they opened only after Marvin pushed a button on the intercom.

Marvin approached the reception desk. “I have a meeting with Simon Cortland,” he announced to the receptionist.

“Yes, Mr. Pressman. Please have a seat. Mr. Cortland will be with you shortly.”

Marvin sat on one of the stylish black leather chairs in the waiting area. He felt uncomfortably low to the ground.

Simon Cortland soon appeared. He was tall, accentuating Marvin’s low position. Marvin wondered if that was the furniture’s intended purpose. Cortland was dressed splendidly in a dark blue suit, pink shirt, and rich burgundy tie. He looked young, handsome, and rich. Marvin disliked him for those offenses alone.

“Marvin Pressman?”

“Yes,” Marvin said. “Simon Cortland, I presume.”

“Correct. Pleasure to meet you,” Cortland said.

Cortland’s handshake was firm. The man’s cuff links were gold, and his shoes Italian. Marvin felt woefully underdressed, despite having worn the best suit in his arsenal.

“I’m glad our schedules worked out for this meeting,” Marvin said.

Cortland nodded and said, “Me too. We’re incredibly busy, and I’m with clients more than I’m in the office. You caught a lucky break. A client meeting was canceled. My colleague, Aaron Donovan, is waiting for us in the conference room. Please, follow me.”

Marvin took in what he could of the office layout as he trailed Cortland to the conference room.

The floor layout was the typical division of the haves and have-nots. The closed door offices had views of the city skyline. The gray-walled cubicles in the interior space offered views of the neighboring cube.

Cortland held open the conference room door. Marvin entered first. A man, whom Marvin assumed to be Aaron Donovan, rose from his high-back leather chair to greet him. They exchanged business cards after shaking hands. Donovan was essentially a Cortland clone, dressed in equal splendor. The man hid his confidence with all the subtlety of a floodlight. Marvin took a seat at the expansive conference table, across from the two.

“All I’ve shared with Aaron is that you have a high-net-worth client in need of our services,” Cortland began, “but I don’t have the specifics.”

Marvin took out a yellow legal pad from his briefcase and set a ballpoint pen atop a blank page. “My client is a resident of Shilo, New Hampshire,” Marvin began. “He’s been charged with a felony. I’m his attorney of record. However, we’re also friends. He’s looking to rebuild his life and salvage his reputation once this unfortunate incident is behind him.”

“And how is it you came to Cortland & Associates?” Donovan asked. “The majority of our public relations work is done for corporations.”

“Well, reputations spread—both the good and the bad. Isn’t that your business?”

Cortland cleared his throat and made a slight hand gesture, indicating to Donovan that he take the lead.

“Our business services encompass a broad spectrum of capabilities,” Donovan said. “Strategic planning, crisis communication, media relations, and even investor training.”

“Reputation management is a core competency as well, is it not?” Marvin asked. “At least it says so on your Web site.”

Cortland nodded. “Yes. We have a business unit dedicated to reputation management. With the explosion of the social Web in recent years, we believe this will become an increasingly important component of our business.”

“Which is exactly why I came to you,” Marvin said. “My client is quite well off, as I’ve told you. So funding his reemergence, if you will, won’t be a problem. My interest lies with the approach. How is it you go about salvaging corporate reputations under attack?”

Cortland passed Donovan a look that encouraged the man to answer and signaled to Marvin that he was the technical brains behind the operation.

“It’s really all about measurement and trust,” Donovan began.

Marvin shrugged his shoulders to show he wasn’t following. “Feel free to consider me an ignorant lawyer who knows nothing about your business processes, because, in fact, that is what I am.”

Cortland smiled at Marvin. “Your friend is lucky to have you take such an interest in his life outside the trial,” he said.

“He’s been a good friend to me over the years. I consider us both lucky.”

Donovan continued with his explanation. “We have tremendous technology talent on staff,” he said.

“Aaron being among the best,” Cortland interjected. “Carnegie Mellon undergrad. CalTech for a PhD in computer science.”

“Believe me,” Aaron said, “I’m not even the best on staff.”

“Impressive,” Marvin said. “It surprises me that you tech types went into PR. I’d have thought you’d be building some whiz-bang dot-com business or something.”

“Well, this business is whiz-bang, Mr. Pressman,” Donovan said. “Our mission is to protect the brand. To do that, we’ve developed highly sophisticated real-time search engines that scour every corner of the Internet for mention of our clients. From there, we have tools that can weigh the importance of the messages based on a proprietary social scale we’ve developed.”

“Social scale?”

“We first understand who communicated the message, then quantify and rank their influence using a set of custom algorithms.”

“Impressive,” Marvin said. “You can tell if a reputation attack is something that can be ignored or something to be addressed based on this rating?”

Donovan nodded. “Precisely.”

“How does all this measuring and monitoring translate into results for your clients?”

“Do you recall the Baby Natural crisis?” Cortland asked.

Marvin nodded. “Sure. A disgruntled employee started spreading rumors online that the food was contaminated. He made up fictitious stories about babies getting sick. Created a bunch of online personas that weren’t real to make it look like the issue was serious and widespread.”

“Well said,” Donovan commended. “And, of course, all lies. Thanks to our technology, we knew the scam was happening before anybody at Baby Natural did. But the public isn’t always willing to believe a company, even if the claims against it are false.”

“So I don’t get it. How did you help? The damage was done. Word got out, and I’m sure sales were lost.”

“Actually, the opposite happened. Sales jumped from the publicity that the story generated. The only reason you heard about the incident is because we wanted you to hear about it. We tracked down the scammer before too many people had a chance to read his posts. Then we controlled all communication about the incident to the general public. Baby Natural came across as the victim. They had the full support of the FDA. The post-incident PR campaign projected a company that was transparent to the consumers and highly responsive.”

“And got a whole lot of publicity,” Marvin concurred. “Well done.”

“This is the future, Marvin,” Cortland broke in. “And we believe reputation management cuts across all businesses and all borders. And you’re also correct in assuming that in some cases, we treat individuals of certain wealth and prominence as business entities unto themselves.”

“And also men like Frank Delacroix, for instance,” Marvin said in response. “Or is it Frank Dee?”

Cortland and Donavan returned Marvin’s friendly smile with stony expressions.

“Let’s do this,” Cortland said as he rose from his chair. “I have a conference call in a few minutes. I suggest we set up an in-person meeting between Aaron and your client. I’m sure after your client learns of all our capabilities, he’ll be quite pleased with our services.”

“Would Mr. Delacroix be willing to give you a reference?” Marvin asked Cortland. “You said yourself that the public often is reticent to trust the word of a company.”

This time Cortland smiled, though Marvin could see that his congeniality was forced. “If we had a client by that name,” Cortland said in a humorless voice, “I’m certain that he would.” Cortland headed for the conference room door but stopped after Marvin called his name.

“I did a little homework before our meeting,” Marvin said. “After all, my reputation reflects every recommendation that I make.”

“Oh?”

“Do you know Roland Boyd? He’s an investor and venture capitalist type. Lives up my way. In the sticks, as you city folk like to call it.”

Cortland took two steps toward Marvin and stopped. His expression turned grim. “What’s your point, Mr. Pressman?”

“Well, he appears to have taken advantage of your failure. I mean, you’re the reputation guardians. Just thought you guys were good at it, is all.”

“We are good,” Cortland said.

“But your client, PrimaMed, suffered a terrible PR setback from the recent arrest of James Mann on child pornography, did they not?”

“You’ve obviously read the stories,” Cortland said.

“Yeah, I read them. A lot of the stories I read were posted before the guy got arrested. There was talk on a bunch of pretty influential blogs and message boards about Mann’s pending doom. Some anonymous poster claimed he had inside information that Mann was going down. Can you imagine that?”

“Well, rumors are what make the Web go round.”

“And rumors also affect company stock price. Early news of his arrest sent the PrimaMed stock into a bit of a tailspin.”

“I don’t know the specifics,” Cortland said.

“I bet someone made some money off that,” Marvin continued.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, if someone shorted a bunch of shares of PrimaMed stock, they’d be pretty darn lucky. The stock dropped to twenty on those reports alone, went down to eleven after Mann’s arrest.”

“Well, someone was lucky, if that’s the case.”

“Or someone—maybe your pal Roland Boyd, even—knew to short the stock because he knew James Mann was going to be attacked.”

“If that were the case,” Cortland said, “perhaps this Mr. Boyd had some association with the employee charged. You seem quite the investigative sort. Have you explored that connection?”

“To be honest, Simon, I have a hard time looking anywhere but at you.”

“Are you suggesting that we attacked the reputation of a client who entrusted us to guard it?”

“Just asking the question.”

“That would be insider trading, and it would put us out of business.”

“Well,” Marvin said with a conciliatory nod of his head, “I guess when you put it that way, it does sound pretty outlandish.”