Frederick Ramsay_Botswana Mystery 01 Page 13

  He picked up her assegai and laid it on the leopard-patterned scarf. He folded the edges of the scarf over the spear tip and walked to the slider, opened it and stepped out onto the balcony. He hid the scarf and its contents along with the glove under the bottom step and returned to the room. He’d show them all who was a “boy,” who didn’t have the smarts, who didn’t have the guts. They never thought he’d make it. He would show them. All of them would pay: Leo, Parizzi, and Brenda, especially her. And then they’d see who the top dog at Earth Global was.

  They’d all be at dinner now. He didn’t want to see them. He flopped down and cracked the last beer. He’d need to call for more.

  He’d fix them.

  CHAPTER 29

  Leo took in the company seated about the dining area. He didn’t see the Griswolds or Travis. Perhaps they’d eaten earlier or would be coming in later. He’d heard about a rustic restaurant east of the lodge, The Old House. Perhaps they’d gone there for a change. He sipped his soup and considered how he should approach Travis. On the one hand, it would not do to seem weak, but, on the other, if he acted too aggressively, he might precipitate something that would be at cross purposes to what he had in mind as his closer. He hoped the man’s common sense would at least temper his ambition—“vaulting ambition”— as Shakespeare might say. Travis had a great deal in common with Lady Macbeth. The future of Earth Global hung on the tenuous thread of his next move and Travis’ response to it.

  Henry Farrah entered the dining area somewhat unsteadily. Leo waved the lawyer over.

  “May I join you?” Farrah said.

  Leo could smell the booze from five feet away.

  “Actually, I intended to dine alone, Henry. I have some planning to do, you might say.” Farrah seemed disappointed. “However, I would like you to join me in my room for a drink later, if you will.”

  “What time?’

  “I’ll give you a call. And Henry? Try to be sober when you arrive.”

  Farrah wandered off to another table and, in a display intended for Leo, ordered another drink. Leo pretended not to notice. He was halfway into his steak when Travis and Brenda Griswold entered. Interesting. She must really have sunk her hooks in him. Well, that would change in the next hour or so. As he had done with Farrah, he motioned for Travis to join him.

  “Yes, Leo? It appears you are nearly finished. Mrs. Griswold and I met on the path coming over. She thinks her husband may join us later. Did you want to speak to me?”

  Very cool. He thinks he has me. Perhaps, and then again, perhaps not.

  “I thought you might drop by after dinner. There are some things we need to discuss.”

  “I’d like to, but I’m afraid I may be otherwise engaged.”

  “Then I suggest you become disengaged.” Leo cut a look at Brenda who, in turn, appeared as smug as the cat who licked the cream. Travis started to speak, but Leo waved him off. “It’s not a request, Travis, it’s an order. Eight o’clock, my room.”

  Travis studied him for what seemed a full minute, eyes narrowed and a small crease bisecting in his forehead.

  “Eight o’clock it is, then.”

  So far, so good. Now if he just knew where the boy had gotten to and whether Greshenko had made any progress with the land deal. He finished his steak, ordered a cup of decaffeinated coffee and turned his attention to the “odd couple.” Brenda was bending Travis’ ear. He on the other hand, seemed lost in thought.

  ***

  When Leo returned to his room and opened his door, he looked at what appeared a war zone. He hadn’t seen anything like the state of his room since his twenty-first birthday and he had had to repair his grandparent’s house after a semi missed a curve on a snowy night and plowed into their living room. The place was a shambles. He glanced at the slider, which stood open about a foot. He’d forgotten to lock it. He first thought Henry Farrah must have come in a drunken stupor, looking for something, but he’d left him in the dining area. He strode to the closet and checked the status of his briefcase. It lay undisturbed and intact on its side. He called the front desk and asked for someone to come and straighten up the mess.

  A crew from housekeeping arrived five minutes later.

  “Ah, you have met our monkeys it seems, sir,” a tall woman in a uniform said with a grin.

  “Monkeys? What monkeys? Monkey business if you ask me.”

  “No sir, you must remember the warning the man gave at the time you registered? And look there.” The woman pointed to the small sign over the slider. In bold, red letters on a white background it stated that guests should keep the sliding doors closed and locked. The standard warning about the area’s monkeys that would surely come in and could cause damage and perhaps even physical harm if the residents were careless about keeping the sliders closed and fastened.

  Leo had heard the caution and had been amused at the sign but, in his innocence, or rather his cynical mindset, he assumed they, like the man-eating lion story, it represented another marketing ploy to scam the tourists. He allowed the crew to remake the bed and straighten the room as best they could and then sent them on their way. He wanted to prepare for his visitors.

  ***

  “What did the old coot want?” Brenda attacked her salad. Sex, she’d told him earlier, always made her hungry. Good or bad, and his performance rated somewhere in the middle on that one, but either way, good or bad, it produced an appetite. That being the case, he supposed, it constituted nothing short of a physiological or metabolic miracle she hadn’t ballooned up to two hundred pounds by now.

  “He wants to meet me in his room and talk over some business.” He sat back and watched her, marveling how she could shove greens into her mouth in one continuous motion. “Are you sure your husband hasn’t tipped this deal?”

  She paused, fork piled high, and looked up at him. “He’s been mostly buzzed or blotto for the last coupla days. He ain’t said diddley squat to anybody.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Brenda nodded and dug into her roast. “This tastes like deer or something. One time my stepfather, the son of a bitch, came home with what do you call it, deer meat.”

  “Venison.”

  “Venison, right, and my mom got herself sober enough to cook it. When she wasn’t drunk out of her gourd, she could cook, I’ll tell you. Anyway that venison tasted like this here.”

  “It should. It’s impala, I think. The old man is up to something. I wish I knew what.”

  “Who cares? You have the votes. You have your meeting thing, and bip, bop, he’s on the street and you’re the boss. Then, you and me—”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. There’s a way to go before that happens, and when it does, then we’ll see.”

  “Then we’ll see, nothing. Like it or lump it, we’re a team, pal.”

  Travis let the last remark slide. He’d need her to secure his position for now. But after that happened, well, the lady had marketable skills. She’d survive somehow.

  “Maybe I should go to see him with you. Just so he knows he’s over a barrel. I can say some things that will really get him, you know?”

  “That is a very bad idea, Brenda. You go back to your room and amuse your husband.”

  “Amuse? What do you mean?”

  “Keep him happy for a few more days. You know what I mean.”

  Brenda made a face and tackled a second portion of impala.

  “And I’ll handle Leo Painter. I’ve been doing it for years. This will be just one last time before it all comes to an end.”

  “Well, good luck with that. I still think I should go with you.”

  He smiled at her and concentrated on his dinner. It promised to be a long night for both of them, one way or another.

  CHAPTER 30

  Travis arrived at Leo’s door precisely at eight o’clock. Leo let him in and offered him a drink. Travis waved him off, scanned the room, seemed to notice the disorder, and raised an eyebrow.

  “Monkeys. They came in through
my slider and almost wrecked the place.”

  “Monkeys?”

  “Yes, monkeys. I saw that sign over the door but thought they were being over the top on their warnings. Look out for the crocodiles, beware the man-eating lion, keep a sharp eye out for monkeys. I guess they were serious about the last one.”

  The two men sat across from each other in two wicker chairs. They could have been two lions sizing each other up. The faint aroma of cigar hung in the air. Leo smiled, a little smile, a confident smile, like the crocodile lurking in the river just beyond the deck.

  “Do you know how I spent my afternoon, Travis?” Leo didn’t wait for an answer. “I spent it poring over phone records, yours for one. That would be records for your office phone and your Blackberry.” He paused waiting to see if Travis would react. “You have been a busy little beaver, Travis. Do you have something to tell me?”

  Travis narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment before answering. Getting his ducks in a row, Leo assumed. He hoped Travis would be careful in answering. Not jump too quickly.

  “You are playing me, Leo. Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind.”

  “Very well.” Leo paused and scrutinized his COO. It’s in the eyes. The eyes never lie, even when the tongue does. “Did you know that I had planned to turn the company over to you when I thought the time was right? I thought we’d have a conversation about that on this trip, after we were finished with the official business. But, as I said, you’ve been busy, it appears. It seems you are ahead of me and are convinced you’ve managed to corral enough votes to push me out of the company all by yourself. Have I got that approximately correct?” Travis opened his mouth and closed it.

  “I know some of those people you’ve called…most of them, in fact. Tell me, exactly what made you want the job now rather than, say, in a year or two?”

  Travis shifted in his chair. “Very well, since you know what I planned and since, as you indicated, I have the means to do it, I’ll tell you. With respect for what you have accomplished in the past, I think you have fallen behind the times. Hell, you’ve spent your life building the company, and it’s become a habit. So much so, you are missing things.”

  Leo smiled and circled his hand, inviting Travis to continue.

  “I think it’s time for a change. You, it seems to me, are like the man standing on the platform waiting for a train that’s already come and gone. You’re missing the thrust of the future, Leo. It’s in energy, not minerals and real estate.”

  “The thrust? Mercy. And what do you propose to do about this missed thrust, if I may ask?”

  “I intend to sell off the less profitable subsidiaries, concentrate on high-margin projects, and make the company smaller and more nimble.”

  “Did you say nimble? Gracious, what a description. Nimble. Is that the new hip business buzzword? What happened to robust? Never mind, I don’t want to know.

  “Travis, ballerinas are nimble. Jack jumping over the candle stick needed to be nimble. Professional football players, on the other hand, are not nimble, although you might say they are robust. No, footballers are quick. They move to the ball and smother their competition. There’s an important difference. Business is a tough, in-your-face undertaking. Business is football, not ballet. I won’t let you pull this company down because of your addiction to the banality of MBA double-speak.”

  Travis’ face reddened. “It’s not for you to say anymore, Leo. May I remind you that you did this to Harry Reilly. Did you really think the same thing couldn’t happen to you?”

  “What do you believe I did to Harry Reilly?”

  “Shoved him under the bus, dumped the daughter, and took over.”

  “You are repeating water-cooler gossip.” Leo let out a sigh and shook his head. “Let me tell you what really happened. It may help you understand what I have to say later. Harry Reilly was an old-fashioned oil man. He grew up in the Texas oil fields working for his old man, Jack—Black Jack Reilly—who made his fortune and started the company as a wildcatter. Harry worked as a roustabout, manager, even briefly with Red Adair putting out wellhead fires. He took options on real estate as part of his desire to drill new oil wells. The mining turned out to be an accident. If the minerals were there, he might or might not dig them up. That’s all. I couldn’t get him to see the future as, I suppose, you don’t think I can.

  “Well, I pleaded with him, begged in fact. He threatened to fire me; would have, too, if I hadn’t been married to his daughter. So, I met with some stockholders, told them what we were missing, and they asked him to step aside. I wanted him to stay on as chairman of the board, but his pride wouldn’t let him, and he left with a black Irish curse. The daughter followed. She dumped me, not the other way around.”

  “Are you asking me for the chairmanship?”

  Leo lit a cigar and poured himself a drink. He was enjoying himself. “Sure you won’t have one?” Travis shook his head. “No, Travis, I am not asking you for anything. I don’t have to, because I am not going anywhere.”

  “You plan to fight me on this? Leo, don’t make this hard on yourself. I have the votes. You know I do.”

  “I don’t know. Show me.”

  Travis shook his head as he might if he had to instruct a recalcitrant child in his ABCs. “Very well, I have my personal holdings to which I have added Robert Griswold’s. I have commitments from three board members to vote their shares for me, and…” He paused for effect, “I have the Reilly family shares committed as well.”

  “Do you now? The Reilly shares, well, well. That’s very interesting. I knew about Bobby’s foolishness, of course, and the board members are the same ones Farrah talked into the IPO, greedy bastards, looking for a quick payout instead of long-term profits. Oh, well.” Leo fished in his briefcase and pulled some papers which he handed to Travis.

  “Have a look at these two documents. The first is an agreement by which you surrender Robert’s shares to him on the payment of a certain sum. He has that option, as we both know.” He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew another slip of paper. “Here is a check drawn on a local bank for that amount. I can ask the boy to come in here and see to the transaction, but you’ll agree that would be a waste of your time and mine.”

  Travis swallowed. “His wife declares he will vote them for me anyway.”

  “Brenda? Oh no, no, no, Brenda is not part of this equation. Look at this second document, please. It’s a similar agreement but transfers ownership of those same shares to me.”

  Travis mopped his brow.

  “Problems, Travis? I assure you the documents are all in order or, if you decide to push, can be made public and very airtight. It is not in your best interest to do that, I don’t think.”

  “Okay, I wondered what you and Griswold were up to. Now I know, but I don’t need his shares except as insurance. As I said, the Reilly people will vote as I direct them.”

  “Will they now? You’re sure of that, son? You have the commitments from all the share holders?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re sure, absolutely sure?”

  “Absolutely sure.” Travis didn’t look so sure.

  “Alas, Travis, you don’t. One more piece of paperwork.” Leo handed him the fax from Sheridan Baker.

  “The Reilly grandchildren now hold those shares in unequal amounts. They have steadfastly refused to sell them to me. However, a significant number of the Reilly shares are held by my son the majority, to be precise. He is very ill and may not live long enough to see the New Year. The man who holds his power of attorney, for remuneration specified elsewhere, has given me his proxy as well as the right to buy them all, if that becomes necessary. You have that engineer Polanski’s shares and are counting on his assurance he can swing the rest. He might have been able to do so in the past. He can’t now. So, you do not have all the Reilly shares.”

  Travis stared at the man across from him and shook his head.

  “It seems you’ve been busy, too. So now
what? Am I fired?”

  “Not so fast. Let me tell you a story. When I was young, before I went to work for Reilly, I worked construction downstate. Well, we hit one of those recessions that come along every couple of years, and business just dried up. I urged the owner to lay off the crews and cut back on inventory, ride it out. You see, I had in mind to create some job security for myself. And that would be the prudent thing to do, I thought. You would probably agree, but do you know what he did?”

  Travis shook his head.

  “He kept them all on the payroll and bid the little business still out there. Bid at cost or below. Took big losses. I asked him what he was thinking. He said he wanted to keep the crews working and the subs happy against the time when the economy turned around. Well, it did turn, as it always does, and the jobs started to flow. While all his competitors scrambled around looking to rehire workers and reassemble the gangs they’d just fired, he was able to grab off nearly all of the building contracts in the Springfield area. Made a fortune.”

  “And this is related to me, how?”

  “Ah. You believe there is no money to be made in mining, is that right?”

  “Very poor margins, Leo.”

  “There is an important difference between a poor margin and no margin. Do you think the world is finished with copper, or nickel, or molybdenum, or any of the stuff we dig out of the ground? You know it isn’t. I want to keep the crews working, and I am even willing to run the mines as a not-for-profit or at a reasonable, tax-deductible loss in order to grab the market when it rebounds. And, if you factor in a possible license for ActiVox, assuming we can get it, we clean up. As for the real estate, you know the old saying, God isn’t making any more land. That’s not true on Hawaii, of course, but you get the point. We are drilling on that land, Travis, but not for the oil that Reilly hoped to find. We’re looking for water. It will pay out. Do you understand what I am offering you?”