Stuart Woods - Fast and Loose

“How’d you get to St. Clair?”

“He called me out of the blue, said a friend had suggested he talk to me. I’d heard of the man, of course, so I met him. He invited me up for a few days on his new yacht, and we got along. He gave me to understand that he needed somebody to work acquisitions, and that he wanted somebody who could rise to CEO quickly. He was backing a guy named Knott to run against Katharine Lee for President, and he told me that when his man was elected — when, not if, mind you — he’d be spending a lot of time in D.C., and if I worked out, I’d be minding the store in New York. I liked the idea. I found Goldman too regimented for me, too many committees, layers. He offered me two million a year, with a million-dollar signing bonus, and I jumped at it.”

“I should think you would have,” Stone said.

“I got there about a month before he blew himself up by opening what sounded like an Agency strong case the wrong way.”

“What did you think of St. Clair?”

“He was a charmer, but I quickly learned that he liked cutting a corner or two, and I was uncomfortable with that. There was no management tree to speak of, so when he died, the place was adrift. Erik Macher stepped into the breach.”

“And what did you think of that?”

“I stayed out of his way, until I could figure out what was going to happen. Macher didn’t even know who I was. He was based in a security company in D.C. that was St. Clair’s personal police force. He’s no businessman, and I figured that, if I could edge him aside, I might still end up running the place. I checked up on his time at the Agency, and it was clear that the man was a thug. I figured that if I stuck around St. Clair and had to work for Macher, I’d end up in jail. I started collecting information that might stand me in good stead if the FBI or the New York Attorney General’s Office came calling. There was a lot of gossip around the office, and I made notes, then I got into the company’s most secure computer network. I’ve copied a huge lot of documents, more than enough to cover me.”

“What do you plan to do with it?”

“I don’t have a plan yet. I just want to get out of there before the place blows. Macher is a deeply paranoid character who reacts badly when he’s crossed. He’s in league with a lawyer named Thomas Berenson, who’s corporate counsel, and during my computer searches I came up with a will for Christian St. Clair that Berenson had drawn, that pretty much handed the company to Macher. I also came up with the original will. Berenson had just substituted the new stuff for a couple of pages of the original, which had already been executed and which didn’t mention Macher at all.”

“That was pretty slick of Macher.”

“He’s a dangerous guy, in more ways than one. He had a reputation at the Agency for unnecessary violence. He’s got a guy named Jake Herman, ex-FBI, who left the Bureau under unfavorable circumstances, and he’s doing for Macher what Macher used to do for St. Clair, except out of the New York office, instead of D.C. The two of them make quite a pair.”

Stone set down his drink. “Will you excuse me for a moment? I want to make a phone call.”

“Sure.”

Stone got up and called Mike Freeman. “I’m dining with an interesting young man that you should meet. Can you join us at my house?”

“What time?”

“Now is good. We’re still on drinks.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Stone hung up and rang Fred, letting him know they’d be three for dinner.

Mike Freeman arrived and was given a drink while Stone and Charley started a new one. Stone introduced Mike to Charley and filled him in on his background with Charley’s help. Dinner was served, and Fred poured the wine.

“So, Charley,” Stone said, “what do you want to do as soon as you can extricate yourself from Macher and St. Clair?”

“Well, if I can’t run St. Clair, I’d like to go into the mergers and acquisitions business for myself, or with partners.”

Stone and Mike exchanged a glance. “What sort of acquisitions interest you?” Stone asked.

“Start-ups, or interesting small companies with the potential for rapid growth, if they get the financing they need.”

“What are you prepared to invest in such a business?” Mike asked.

“Five million to start. I made a couple of really good deals at Goldman, and I’ve still got my starting bonus from St. Clair.”

“Is that everything you’ve got?” Mike asked.

“Not quite, and I’d need a salary to live on, of course.”

“Where do you live?” Stone asked.

“I have a suite at the Lombardy Hotel, on East Fifty-sixth Street. It’s expensive, but I get hotel services like room service, laundry, and maid, so I don’t have to spend any time keeping house.”

“How much time were you putting in on a weekly basis at Goldman?” Mike asked.

“Sixty to eighty hours a week,” Charley replied. “It was what was expected of the younger guys, and it was too much. I want a life, too.”

“That seems reasonable.”

They chatted on through dinner and Stone got the strong impression that Mike wanted to go into business with Charley Fox. After dessert, he pulled Mike aside. “What do you think?”

“I think we need this guy,” Mike said. “We’ve been acquiring slowly, catch as catch can, and we need somebody who can put together deals and do the due diligence.”

“I think you’re right, and I think he’s the guy.”

“I’ve got some free office space in our building. We can install him in there with a secretary and a small staff.”

“Good,” Stone replied. “What should we pay him?”

“A million a year, then bump him up to two as soon as he starts doing deals that will support it. I reckon we’re going to be pumping in operating expenses for at least a year, but that’s what we’re for in the deal, the daddies.”

“Are you going to kick in free rent?”

“Sure, until he generates the revenue to pay for it.”

They went back to the dinner table. “I guess you’ve got a contract with St. Clair,” Stone said.

Charley produced it from an inside pocket. “Christian drew it up, and I signed it.”

Stone read it quickly. “Nothing to keep you from taking a hike whenever you feel like it.”

“Or to keep him from firing me out of hand.”

“Can you just walk out tomorrow?”

“I need a little more time with document collection,” Charley said, “then I’m out.” He paused. “If I’ve got someplace to go.”

“Mike and I want to give you that place,” Stone said. He outlined the deal he and Mike had discussed. “What do you think?”

“Do I get a piece of each deal?”

“You can invest up to a third of each one, if you can find the money.”

Charley shook his head. “I want a fee for each deal, and that gets plowed in as an investment.”

“What sort of a fee?”

“A third of a third of the investment. Sometimes I’ll be able to ante up, sometimes not.”

Stone and Mike exchanged a nod. “That’s a very sweet deal, Charley,” Stone said, offering his hand. “You’d better hold up your end.”

“Agreed,” Charley said, and he shook Mike’s hand, too. “When I said I was interested in small deals, that won’t always be so.”

“When you’ve got the right deal, we can find the cash,” Stone said. “From more than one source.”

“Great.”

“Okay, I’ll draw up a contract and get it to you in a couple of days. Do you have a lawyer?”

“I’d like for you to be my lawyer.”

“Not ethical. There’s a guy at Woodman & Weld named Herb Fisher that you’ll like. In fact, you talk to him, and he can draw up the contract.”