Authors: Stephen Douglass
“We could, but in so doing, you and Karen would risk a lot. By the time you finished paying the fines and the penalties, you would both be broke and relaxing in prison… I urge you, in the strongest possible language, to do nothing to lead the Feds to believe you have ever been aware of the existence or location of that money. I further urge you to do nothing to initiate precipitous action, particularly where Phillip is concerned.”
Mike rubbed his eyes with his hand. “Can you see any end?”
“Yes, but I don’t think you want to hear it.”
“It would appear that I have no alternative but to respect your advice, counselor,” Mike conceded, dejected beyond consolation.
CHAPTER 82
Toronto.
Margaret Dupuis, one of Mike’s two secretaries, opened his office door and poked her head inside. “Phillip’s out here. He’s really anxious to see you,” she announced.
“Send him in,” Mike said, then slumped in his chair.
Phillip entered and walked slowly toward Mike’s desk. His eyes were reddened and glazed, the result of hours of rehearsal and anxiety. This was his big chance. His performance would have to be a masterpiece. He had no alternative but to convince Mike he had changed his mind. “Hi,” he said, showing no signs of the haughtiness with which he had approached Mike during their previous confrontation.
“What can I do for you?” Mike asked.
“May I have a seat?” Phillip asked, resisting an urge to flop on the couch as he had done in the past.
Mike nodded and pointed.
Phillip lowered himself onto the couch, but sat erect. He gave Mike an expressionless stare. “I’ve changed my mind about the money. I’ve had some time to think it and I… I can’t do it,” he said, sobbing and covering his face with his hands.
“You can’t do what?”
“… I can’t go through with it. I can’t force you and mom to give me the money. No matter how much I want it, I just can’t bring myself to hurt mom.” He looked up at Mike and blinked. “I know I haven’t made it a secret that I don’t like you. I probably wouldn’t have been sorry to see you go to jail, but I love my mother. I love her too much to do this to her.”
Mike leaned forward. “Let me understand this. Are you telling me you’re giving up the idea of blackmailing us?”
Phillip removed his hands and stared at Mike, every ounce of concentration focused on appearing sincere. “I can’t. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I was responsible for sending mom to prison.”
“So you won’t object if I give the money to charity?”
Phillip shook his head. “No,” he whimpered.
“I’m very proud of you,” Mike said, showing a faint smile. “It took a lot of courage to come in here and do this. I’m sure your mother will be proud of you, also.”
Phillip’s frown slowly give way to a hint of a smile. “Thanks for understanding,” he said, then stood and extended his hand. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you.”
“Forget it. Get out of here before I fire you,” Mike said with a big wink.
Happy, relieved and triumphant, Phillip wheeled and marched from the office.
Mike hurried to his car and called Dan Turner. “Sorry to bother you again, Dan, but I had to tell you about a very significant development. Phillip just came into my office and told me he doesn’t want the money. He said he doesn’t want to hurt his mother.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I want to, but in all honesty, I don’t know what to believe any more. I just wanted you to know what he told me.”
“Thanks. I’ve noted your call.”
“Should we do anything?”
“No. Instinct tells me we should do nothing to rock the boat. You’ve held onto that money for a long time. You can hold onto it a little longer. If there’s a plan to get it, eventually it will emerge.”
CHAPTER 83
August 29.
The question of the viability of O.P.E.C. hung over intense negotiations among its members, since their meeting in Vienna on August 26. They finally reached an agreement authorizing its members to increase oil production to maintain normal world supplies. The result was to increase O.P.E.C. output by four million barrels a day, almost all of the production lost to the embargo of Iraq and occupied Kuwait. The decision to lift production quotas was supported by ten of the thirteen members. The dissenters were Iraq and Libya, which boycotted the meeting. Iran attended but was a major opponent of the agreement.
To the delight of the industrialized world and Louis Visconti, oil prices dropped sharply on the news to slightly below twenty-six dollars a barrel. To his further delight, he received a call from Phillip, informing him that he had succeeded in convincing his stepfather of his change of heart.
CHAPTER 84
New York. Friday, August 31. Noon.
Kerri was on a mission. She entered the luxurious offices of Mara, Griesdorf and Visconti and headed straight for the reception desk.
As with most girls in Visconti’s office, Alice Mancowitz, the receptionist, was very much aware of Kerri’s relationship with Visconti. “Hi Kerri,” she said with a big smile. “What brings you up here? As if I didn’t know.”
“To pick up the file. Miles wants it yesterday.”
“What file?” Alice asked, frantically sorting through the files on her desk.
“It should be right here. Louis told me he would leave it at the reception desk before he left for the airport this morning.”
Alice thumbed through the pile of envelopes and files on her desk. “Not here,” she said, red faced and shaking her head. “Can you wait for an hour? Sue just left for lunch.”
“I can’t. Miles is going to have a coronary if I don’t get it to him now. Louis promised he would give it to him two days ago… Maybe he left it on Sue’s desk.”
“I would get it for you, but I’m not supposed to leave this desk.”
“Then I’ll get it,” Kerri offered.
Alice displayed a squeamish smile. “You really shouldn’t, Kerri. I’m not supposed to…”
“Come on, Alice,” Kerri prodded. “Just close your eyes. I’ll be in and out of there in no time.”
“Do it fast.”
Kerri hurried to the filing cabinets behind Sue’s desk and began a frantic search. Her heart pounded wildly as anxious minutes ticked by. She looked through drawer after drawer of files, desperately trying to find Visconti’s account files.
Finally, under K, in the sixth drawer, she found the file for the King trust account. She opened it and found copies of quarterly and annual reports dating all the way back to 1980. She looked around to ensure no one was looking, then removed the files for the three years, starting in 1987. She found an empty legal sized envelope and placed her borrowed files in it. She closed the drawer and carried the envelope back to the reception desk. “I found it,” she announced, waving the envelope at Alice. “I’ll bring it back as soon as Miles is finished with it. Just don’t tell Sue I took it.”
Alice grinned. “I’m not that stupid.”
Kerri returned to the Iacardi office, headed straight for the copying machines and worked feverishly to make a copy of each of the three annual reports. She ran to her desk to drop off the copies, then rushed back to Visconti’s office. She returned the original reports to Sue’s cabinet, then hurried to the reception area. “Thanks, Alice,” she said as she headed for the glass doors. “I owe you one.”
Seconds after she stepped into the elevator, Sue emerged from the adjacent one.
Kerri returned to her desk and began to study her numerous unauthorized copies of Visconti’s reports. She started with the report for the year ended, December 31, 1987. It showed an enormous decrease in the value of the trust from the previous year end. The decrease verified Visconti’s admitted losses from the crash of October,1987.
The reports for the following two years, however, failed to substantiate his claim that he had recovered the losses with astute investments. Of even more interest to her was the absence of any cash in the trust. She distinctly recalled the 1988 year end report which Visconti had given to Miles Dennis in February, 1989, showing a cash reserve of two hundred and fifty million dollars and a net asset value of six hundred and sixty-two million. Her unauthorized copy of the same report showed no cash reserve and a net asset value of only four hundred and twelve million. In addition to the obvious anomaly, she had difficulty understanding why Phillip had said the trust was worth only three hundred million. Finally, none of the 1989 quarterly reports contained any reference to short positions in crude oil. Something was terribly wrong.
She waited for Miles to return from lunch, then gathered her stolen copies, and rushed into his office. “Miles, you’ve got to see this,” she said, handing him her copy of the King trust’s 1988 report.
Dennis glanced at the title sheet, then at Kerri. “Where did you get this?” he asked, horrified.
“I borrowed it. Don’t worry. No one knows I have it.”
“Damn, Kerri! You could go to jail for this!”
“I don’t care. Just look at the bottom line.”
Dennis lowered his eyes to the report, then turned to the last page. “What am I supposed to see?” he asked, puzzled as he stared at the bottom line.
“Do you still have the copy of the same report Louis gave you in February of eighty-nine?”
“It’s in my desk.”
“Get it out and compare the two bottom lines. You’ll see it immediately.”
Dennis opened the lower right drawer of his desk and removed his copy of the 1988 report. He placed it on the desk beside Kerri’s copy, then turned to the last page. “Wow!” he said, shaking his head in amazement. “This is weird.”
“Weird!” Kerri exclaimed. “It’s fraud!
“Maybe not,” Miles argued. “Maybe it was just a typographical error.”
“No way,” Kerri challenged, undeterred by Dennis’s comments. “The cash reserve doesn’t appear in either of the subsequent reports, and there’s absolutely no reference to crude shorts.”
“It certainly looks odd, but there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it. Besides, if Louis knew we had these copies, he’d sue our asses.”
“Well I’m going to do something about it. I’m going to take those copies to my father. He’ll know if it’s a typographical error or not.”
“Forget it, Kerri,” Miles pleaded. “If your father smells a rat, he’ll raise hell with Louis. Then all hell breaks loose. Louis will immediately want to know where your father got the copies.”
“That won’t happen,” Kerri countered. “I can’t imagine my father doing anything to hurt someone who’s trying to help him.”
“So what do you think he’ll do?”
“I’m going to tell him to ask Louis for an audited report on the current status of the trust. If the audit reveals no discrepancy, no harm done. If there is a discrepancy, then my father will know Louis has been cooking the books.”
“You know Louis is probably going to question your father’s motive for the request. He’s got to wonder why, after ten years, he suddenly wants audited reports.”
“So what if he does? There’s no way my father has to disclose his motive, and no way he can link it to me.”
Miles looked away momentarily, then nodded slowly. “I know this thing’s going to bug you until you get it resolved, and you’re going to be no good to me here until you do… Go to him. Show him your copies, and don’t forget to tell him you’re his daughter.”
“What am I going to tell Louis?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll tell him I sent you to Toronto for some good and valid reason.”
Kerri hugged Dennis and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the most wonderful, understanding boss I ever had.”
“Big deal! I’m the only boss you ever had… Get out of here before I change my mind.”
Kerri hurried to her desk and dialed the number for Reserve Oil in Toronto. She asked to speak to Mike King and told her Janet Pyper was calling. Mike called her from his car five minutes later. “Hi. Sorry to bother you, but I needed to tell you that I’ve discovered something important about your trust. I think you should see it.”
Mike was angered and now more worried than ever. A complete stranger had called to tell him something about the trust, a document that he had kept secret for ten years. “How could you possibly know anything about that trust? This is incredible! How the hell can I believe anything you’re telling me?”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. Please give me a chance to prove to you that everything I’m telling you is the truth.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I want to meet you. I’m prepared to fly to Toronto to do that.”
“So what if we meet? What’s that going to prove?”
“Please, just give me a chance.”
“When?”
“As soon as I can get a flight. I’ll call you and let you know.”
“… I’ll be waiting for your call.”
Kerri called Mike thirty minutes later and Mike returned the call from his car phone. “Did you get a flight?” he asked.
“Yes. Why do you always have to call me back?”
“I’d rather not say. When are you coming?”
“I’ll be on American Airlines, flight two twenty-seven. It’s scheduled to arrive at Terminal One at Pearson at five-thirty, this afternoon.”