Stuart Woods: Fast and Loose

After coffee, the Carlssons excused themselves, and Stone walked them down to his dock, where their launch awaited. Carlsson extended his hand. “Thank you for dinner, Stone, and I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“Would ten o’clock here be convenient, Dr. Carlsson?”

“Certainly, and you must call me Paul — everyone but my children does.”

“Of course, Paul. See you tomorrow.” He waved them off, then walked back to the house. Dino and Ed Rawls had disappeared. Stone sat down and made a phone call to Arthur Steele, chairman and CEO of the Steele Insurance Group, a client, and on whose board he sat.

“Good evening, Stone, is everything all right?”

“I’m sorry to call so late, Art, but something has come up that I think might be of interest to you, and there are time constraints, so I thought I shouldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

“That’s quite all right. How can I be of help?”

Stone told him about being run down by the Carlssons’ yacht. “Paul Carlsson and his daughter came to dinner tonight, and he told me that Christian St. Clair, before his death, had made an offer for the Carlsson clinics. An association of stockholders who are current and former employees own sixty percent of the company, and apparently many of them are willing to cash out.”

“I see,” Steele said. “And since it’s St. Clair, I’m sure the offer was inadequate.”

“That was my view, as well. Perhaps you’ve heard that St. Clair’s enterprises are now in the hands of one Erik Macher.”

“That came in on the grapevine this afternoon. What I know of him isn’t good.”

“What would you think of the Carlsson Clinic as an investment?”

“I’ve had many dealings with the Carlssons over the years, and I can tell you that it is a very well-run company, both medically and business-wise.”

“I had thought that the case.”

“Would you like me to investigate putting together a counteroffer for the clinic?”

“I think Paul Carlsson might be receptive to that, if he could be assured of his family continuing to operate as they have in the past.”

“Certainly. I think the family is one of the clinic’s greatest assets. They are very profitable and operate with little or no debt, and they own the real estate on which their branches sit.”

“I’m meeting with Carlsson tomorrow morning, and I’ll pass on your interest and ask him for the documentation you’ll need to put together an offer.”

“Does the St. Clair bid have a deadline?”

“It does — it expires in three weeks.”

“Then we’ll want to see that the association knows a better offer is in the wings. We don’t want them to cave in while we’re thinking about it.”

“Good. Also, as you know, I sit on the board of Strategic Services, Mike Freeman’s security company, so I know that Mike is interested in acquisitions.”

“Mike would make an excellent partner.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Very good, Stone. Get back to me at the office after you and Carlsson have talked further.”

“I’ll do that. Good night, Art.”

“Good night.”

Dino came into the house. “I drove Ed home,” he said. “He was a little worse for the wear, and it’s a dark night.”

“Thank you, Dino.”

“I’ll bet you’ve already called Art Steele,” Dino said.

“Ah, you know me too well. And thank you so much for those remarks about ambulance chasing and drying out.”

“Anytime, pal, anytime.”

The following morning Stone called his old friend Bill Eggers, who was the managing partner of Woodman & Weld.

“Where are you?” Eggers asked.

“In Maine.”

“It’s very hot here.”

“It’s very cool in Maine.”

Eggers made a groaning noise.

“Bill, I’ve recently met Dr. Paul Carlsson—”

“Of the Carlsson Clinic?”

“The same.” Stone explained the circumstances of the clinic’s ownership and the offer from St. Clair Enterprises. “Paul has asked me if the firm would represent him in dealing with this matter.”

“Of course we would. I’d be delighted to add the Carlsson Clinic to our client roster.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I have another meeting with Paul this morning at ten, and I think it might be a good idea if you would e-mail me a representation contract for him to sign, and a fee schedule.”

“Certainly.”

“Have you heard about Erik Macher’s taking over at St. Clair?”

“Yes, and I was stunned. Christian was a very elegant fellow, if ethically challenged at times, but Macher is a thug, by all accounts.”

“He has Tommy Berenson on his side, and from what I hear, Berenson drew and witnessed the will.”

“And I’m sure he was paid very handsomely to do so.”

“Who would you have expected to succeed St. Clair in the event of his death?”

“I should have thought one of his division heads, or a CEO at one of his companies.”

“Not Macher?”

“I’m sure Christian found him very useful, but not presentable. If this takeover bid should turn into a fight, you should expect him to fight dirty.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ll have my secretary e-mail you those documents immediately.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

Stone hung up and made some notes to himself for his meeting with Carlsson. Dino came down to breakfast and ordered bacon and eggs.

“Dino, could you run a check on Erik Macher for me?” Stone asked.

“Sure. What do you expect to find?”

“I have no expectations, I just want to know what there is.”

Dino made the call to his assistant, then hung up. “A few minutes,” he said.

Stone had a thought; he called Billy Barnett, who worked as a producer in Stone’s son Peter’s film production company at Centurion Studios in L.A. Billy had once been known as Teddy Fay and had been a twenty-year employee of the CIA, rising to deputy head of the technical services division, which equipped intelligence operatives for their missions.

“Stone, how are you?”

“Very well, Billy, and you?”

“Couldn’t be better. What can I do for you?”

“I’m just looking for information about somebody who was a covert operative at the Agency. His time there should have overlapped yours.”

“And who would that be?”

“One Erik Macher.” Stone spelled it for him.

“Sure, I knew him — I probably outfitted him for a dozen or more missions.”

“What was your general impression of him?”

“The man was an assassin. Oh, he was a good officer overall and had a successful career at the Agency, but he had the reputation of being too ready to kill at the drop of a hat. I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”

“Anything else?”

“Very bright and adaptable — if one thing didn’t work, he’d find another way. I think management was always a little leery of him.”

“That’s very interesting,” Stone said. “Thank you, Billy.”

“Are you having dealings with Macher, Stone?”

“I expect I will be.” Stone explained the situation.

“I see. May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“Will you be having face-to-face meetings with him?”

“Possibly. Certainly someone on our side will.”

“I think that it might be a good idea for me to attend a meeting or two with him — not to say anything, just to let him know that I’m involved with his opposition. It might make him more careful in his dealings with you. I expect to be in New York for a few days soon.”

“That sounds like a very good idea. I’d be interested in your assessment of the man.”

“Let me know when you’d like me to be there. I can arrange my schedule accordingly.”