Villiers Touch

12. Mason Villiers

The limousine turned up Third Avenue from Forty-seventh Street and cruised slowly with the lights. Taxis darted past, jumping the traffic lights, and along the window-lit sidewalks male prostitutes cruised with brazen, casual arrogance. In the back seat of the limousine Villiers became irritated with the bedraggled whine of Tod Sanders’ complaining voice and said, “I’m sick of hearing about your mother. Shut up.”

Sanders didn’t say another word until he eased the big car in at the curb in front of Villiers’ hotel. Then, blank-faced, Sanders turned in his seat and said, “You want a girl? You want me to send for a girl?”

“No, to hell with it. You go on home and sit up with your sick mother.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Tod Sanders was perpetually nodding, nervously pretending agreement before he could possibly know what he was going to be agreeing with; he was like a student-there was one in every classroom-whose head bobbed up and down the whole hour long.

“I’ll need you here at nine in the morning with the ear.”

“Yes, sir.”

The doorman had the limousine door open; Villiers stepped out and went into the hotel lobby. He glanced at the row of elevators but went on to the cocktail lounge. Drunk businessmen were crowded loud at the bar. As he moved past them, he saw a slim attractive woman sitting alone; her glance touched him, direct and interested. He sized her up as an easy lay.

She had a warm, slow smile.

He sat down and spoke: “Staying here in the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“In town long?”

“I live here.” She was still smiling.

“Work here?”

“Well, I’m sort of between jobs, you know. I do a little dancing, and I model a little. I’m just sort of-around, you know?”

He nodded. “Expensive?”

“Some gentlemen don’t think I am.”

“Go on,” he said.

“Two hundred.”

He laughed quietly and gave her his room number and walked out to the lobby.

At nine-thirty in the morning he entered the offices of Hackman and Greene and went back through the corridor without waiting for the English receptionist to announce him. He found Sidney Isher in Hackman’s office; the broker himself was nowhere in sight. Isher said, “George must be stuck in the traffic. It’s murder out there in this Goddamned heat. You want a cup of coffee?”

“No.” Villiers settled on a chair in the cool blast of the air-conditioner.

The red-haired lawyer coughed; his eye tic winked steadily. “I swear the pavements are starting to melt out there.”

Villiers said, “Take a pill or something-you’re nervous.”

“I guess I am. We’ve got a problem.”

“I’m listening.”

“It goes by the name of Arthur Rademacher. He’s James Melbard’s brother-in-law-this’ll take a minute to explain. You see, Melbard Chemical has about one and a half million shares of capital stock. As you know, there’s only about a hundred thousand shares outstanding on the open market-the rest belong to the Melbard family and a few insiders, and the twenty-three percent that NCI and Elliot Judd own together. The idea, as I understood it from you, was to tender an offer to Melbard to get a controlling interest from the Melbard family, in an exchange-of-stocks deal with Nuart Galleries. This was supposed to-”

“I’m losing interest,” Villiers snapped. “Get to the point.”

“I’m trying to.” Isher kept crossing and uncrossing his legs. “You want to buy a controlling interest in Melbard, right? The only way to do it is to buy eight hundred thousand shares of Melbard stock, right? And the only place you can buy that many shares is from Melbard’s family, because nobody else owns that much. But what I’m trying to tell you is, there’s a hitch we didn’t foresee. It seems this old bastard Rademacher owns a quarter of a million shares in his wife’s name-she’s James Melbard’s sister-and he’s also got options on another quarter of a million shares which James Melbard owns at the moment. You get the picture now? James Melbard can’t sell his stock to you unless Rademacher releases him from the options. For all practical purposes, Rademacher controls half a million shares of Melbard stock, which is better than thirty percent of the whole lot. Without that block of stock, you can’t get control of Melbard Chemical-not unless you can buy NCI’s block, and I doubt you could.”

“I don’t see the problem,” Villiers said. “If Rademacher owns it, then buy it from Rademacher. What’s so difficult about that?”

“Difficult? Nothing. It’s dead simple. Rademacher won’t sell.” Isher assumed a pained smile and made a vague gesture. “Just like that.”

“How do you know? Have you tried making him an offer?”

“Of course I have. What the hell do you think I’m talking from-pure guesswork? As soon as I got your call telling me Mrs. Hastings had agreed on the deal, I put my people to work on the Melbard group. I got a report from one of them this morning. Rademacher flatly turned us down. His half-million shares are too big a block for us to buck.”

“Maybe-if he isn’t bluffing. Who says he’s actually got control of that many shares?”

“Believe me. I checked it out.”

“Have you talked to him personally?”

“I put in a call. He wouldn’t talk to me.”

Villiers squinted at him. “People who refuse to talk usually have something to hide.”

“What’s that got to do with it? He’s got the stock, he refuses to sell it. That’s all there is to it.”

Villiers smiled gently and murmured, “Sidney, you haven’t got the balls of a Chihuahua. I’ve told you how high you could go, bidding for the stock-all you need to do is make Rademacher an offer he can’t turn down.”

“You told me to go as high as twelve dollars a share. That’s six million dollars-just for Rademacher’s stock. At that price you’d have to put eight or nine million dollars in to gain control. You haven’t got that kind of money.”

“Of course I’ve got that kind of money. What did you think this was, a penny-ante deal?”

“Don’t pull my leg. Where do you come up with nine million dollars?”

“Let me worry about that.”

“I will. I will-but you’re trying to grow too fast. You’ll get caught, or you’ll fall apart. I’ve watched you for years-can’t you ever take advice? You’ve only got two speeds in your engine-full speed ahead and full speed reverse. You’ve got to slow down on the corners.”

“All right, Sidney, you’ve exercised your mouth. Now I’ll put in my fifty-one percent worth. You’ll make Rademacher an offer he can’t refuse. If he won’t come to the phone, then don’t mail the offer, have it delivered to him by personal messenger, and put a little note in the envelope with it. Give it the friendly touch, and throw in a hint that you’re willing to grease him with options to buy a few blue chips below market price.”

Isher hawked, cleared his throat, and growled, “You give me a pain, Mace.”

“Take something for it.”

“Okay, so it’s an offer he can’t refuse. Suppose he refuses it?”

“Then use pressure. Everybody’s got something in his past he’s a little ashamed of-everybody’s scared of something. Find Rademacher’s soft spot.”

“I’m no detective.”

“You can hire them.”

Isher’s eyelid was winking rapidly with tension. “I don’t like it. You’re getting too ambitious too fast. You can’t just-”

“Don’t lean, Sidney. I’ve been leaned on by heavier men than you. Just do your job. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Isher flushed. He slid forward until he was sitting on the edge of his chair. “Hold it right there,” he said, his voice under stern control. “You’re not talking to a six-thousand-a-year lackey. Okay, so I’ve seen you order bigshot executives around as if you were a hung-over topkick yelling at recruits, and they let you do it because you’ve got enough clout to destroy them. You’ve never been bothered by leaving your cleat marks on people’s backs, and I suppose up to a point that’s good-it works, it’s helped you claw your way up to seven figures. But listen to me, Mace, you can’t treat these people the way you treat your boiler-room marks, with that world-is-my-ashtray attitude of yours. And you can’t treat me that way either. I know what you probably think of me, but-”

“What makes you think I think of you at all?” Villiers inquired, breathing evenly.

“-but don’t forget I know you pretty well. I make allowances because, hell, a few years ago you could hardly spell Manhattan, and now you’re close to owning it. I’m not such a hypocrite I won’t admit I’m greedy. Okay, so your star’s rising, and I hitched my wagon to it. But this time you’re getting tense, I can feel it myself, and a tense man makes mistakes. Now, you can go ahead and sling insults at me, because I’m used to that, but when it comes to legal counsel, you’re going to pay attention to me. That’s what you pay me for, and I do a good job of it. Now, in this Melbard thing you’ve got ideas fixed in your head and you think you don’t give a damn what I think. But I’m telling you for the good of both of us. You’re taking a plunge in this thing without even knowing if there’s water in the pool. You’re too rigid, Mace-too stubborn. It’s your great weakness. The inflexible man is always easiest to defeat. Look, the world is not a candy store. You’ve run into a dead end on this one, and I’m telling you to back out and find another way around.”

Villiers had waited him out. Now he said, “A little more of that, Sidney, and you could be ending a promising career.”

“Mine-or yours? Do you think I’m talking for the pleasure of hearing my own voice?”

“You are cram up to here with principles you haven’t earned, Sidney-you’re a snobbish prig. I told you to keep a rein on that conscience of yours.”

“You just don’t listen, do you? I’m not talking about conscience. I’m talking about a stone wall you’re up against. You won’t budge Arthur Rademacher. Certainly not with bribes, and I doubt you’ll find anything in his past strong enough to use for blackmail. He’s a crusty old son of a bitch, but he’s a powerful man-he’s a pillar of society, sits on half a dozen corporate boards. God knows he doesn’t need your money. To budge him you’d have to start talking in seven-figure sums, which is ridiculous. You haven’t got it, and it wouldn’t be worth it even if you did.”

“You’re wrong. It might.”

“For Melbard Chemical? Who are you kidding? The whole organization isn’t worth fifteen million at the outside.”

“It is to me.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Villiers gave him a long scrutiny. Sidney Isher sat coiled like a taut-wound watch spring. His eyelid fluttered. Villiers said, “I’ve got to have control of Melbard before NCI starts thinking about bidding against me. Understand? Your mandate is clear and simple-go thou and keep piling the chips on the table in front of Arthur Rademacher until he comes across. I don’t care what it takes.”

“Sometimes chutzpah isn’t enough, Mace. And-”

The door opened, and George Hackman came in beaming. Isher broke off and directed a resentful stare at him. Hackman’s red face streamed with sweat, but he grinned with triumphant self-satisfaction. “The top of the fucking morning to you both,” he said, and slapped down a briefcase violently on the corner of the desk nearest Villiers. “Help yourself. Merry Christmas.”

Villiers waited for him to sit down before he said, “What is it?”

“Colonel Butler’s signature on all five copies. I caught him at the airport. He had a few words to say, but he signed.”

Villiers opened the briefcase and had a look through the contracts. George Hackman was laughing. “Son of a bitch nearly dropped his pants. He thought it was going to be weeks before we’d have the papers ready. It never occurred to the stupid bastard we had the papers all typed up and ready for his signature before he even heard about the deal.”

“Satisfactory,” Villiers muttered, making a neat stack of the contracts and dropping it on the desk. “But it shortens your deadline, Sidney. I’m buying Colonel Butler out with Melbard stock, and I don’t own any Melbard stock. Until you get it for me.”

“I told you you were moving too fast.”

“Nuts. Just do it-quit whining.”

Hackman was punching up the Quotron, reading its market announcements. He looked at his watch and grunted. “Good enough. The Dow Jones is up three points over yesterday’s close-market index up eight cents.”

Villiers said, “Never mind that. I want the two of you to look around for a man to put in nominal charge of Heggins Aircraft-somebody with an air of respectability who can be controlled. We’ll have to juice up their accounting, they haven’t been depreciating things fast enough. We’ll put out a slick report with plenty of expensive artwork. The first thing for the new administration to do is shave the operating costs-I want all superfluous personnel fired, particularly at the management level. The company’s topheavy with Butler’s retired Air Force cronies and sixty-year-old executives. I’ll spend the weekend going over the books, and by next week I’ll have a set of goals mapped out for the next quarter. One thing I know already-Heggins has a fleet of repossessed obsolescent cargo planes in mothballs in the desert down in Arizona. I want those planes fixed and sold-there are plenty of markets in the Middle East and South America. I want Heggins’ balance sheet to be in the black by the end of the year, with or without government contracts.”

Sidney Isher said, frowning, “You sound as if you want to keep Heggins operating. I thought you planned to strip it.”

Villiers shook his head. “The company’s no good to me dead. One thing our new management will have to do right away. Heggins has been paying rent to one of its own subsidiaries for the use of runways and test-flight ranges in Nevada. One of Butler’s cute ideas-the rent boosted Heggins’ operating expenses and cut its earnings, so Butler could defend his applications for higher government research fees. He never applied the subsidiary’s dividends against Heggins’ operating costs-he allotted them all to stockholders, and he’s the principal stockholder outside of Heggins itself. I don’t want the money going into Butler’s pockets. Heggins will have to buy back the runways and close down the subsidiary. That way we’ll increase the assets on the books and cut the operating expenses. It should show a big rise in paper profits by the end of the year, and that’s what we’ve got to have-the appearance of strength in the company.”

Sidney Isher said, “Mind telling us why?”

“My reasons are complex, and there’s no need to go into them all. I might just mention one item. Certain parties have been selling Heggins stock short in big bundles. If we can improve Heggins’ image in the market, the price will go up and the short-sellers will be caught in a tight bind, which is exactly where I want them to be.”

“Who are they?”

“Does it matter? They’re people I mean to squeeze, Sidney. That’s all you need to know.”

The lawyer did not bother to conceal his resentment. Villiers stood up, ready to leave; he said to Hackman, “Any word from the Wyatt kid?”

“Not yet.”

“He may need to be leaned on.”

“Just let me know,” Hackman said.

Villiers glanced at Sidney Isher, who did not meet his eyes, and left the office. He felt very good-taut, alive, expectant, the way he used to feel at fifteen when he was lining up a particularly complex and tricky shot on the green felt of a pool table. He gave the English girl his handsome smile on his way out.