by Stan Lerner
CHAPTER ONE
Powerful Men
At age 86, Sumner Ballsworth III, ruled Ballcom's 450 diversified companies with an iron fist. At his command, the directors sat in the boardroom located on the 69th story of Ballcom Tower. A massive building that had long been an anchor of the Manhattan skyline.
Sumner sat at the head of the table; his younger brother and lifelong nemesis Nelson sat to his left, his close friend and vice chairman, Randolph, sat to his right. Sumner took his time as he let his eyes roam around the table, and then rubbed the deep creases of the skin that hung loosely around his jaw line. He cleared his throat, as he always did before starting a meeting, and the room fell silent.
"I now call to order a meeting of the Ballcom board of directors." Turning to Randolph, "Our first order of business is?"
Randolph, while the same age as Sumner, looked ten years younger. A stout man to begin with, his love of food had assured that his skin would always be stretched to a more youthful tautness. "Our fist order of business, is soaring profits in our Entertainment Sector," announced Randolph.
Sumner stared down the table at Michael Eisenfeld. "Can you explain why entertainment profits are up three hundred percent again? Our friends at the Security and Exchange Commission tell me that people who are not our friends are starting to take an interest in our remarkably good fortune. I trust there are no accounting irregularities."
Eisenfeld shrugged. "Entertainment is a different beast, Mr. Chairman. It takes individuals with unique skill sets?"
"I'm not going to tolerate this nonsense!" interrupted Sumner's brother, Nelson. He turned to his older brother. "Grandfather, would not approve of the types of people that we're dealing with in this business or the revolting product we're putting into the market place." Nelson pointed toward Eisenfeld. "He knows damn well that Mechanic is turning a blind eye to behavior that's not only unethical but immoral at the studio to make the kind of money that pads his bonus. "
"These people make us a lot of money," said Eisendfeld, in shock that he had to defend making a profit. Eisenfeld looked to Sumner hoping that he would reel in Nelson.
Sumner shook his head. "I have to go with Nelson on this. How the hell are they making so much money, Michael? Entertainment, was supposed to be a tax write off for us."
Eisenfeld had been successfully ambushed and knew it. "The Peters Entertainment deal has turned out to exceed all of our expectations."
Sumner's bushy gray eyebrows rose. "More explanation, Michael."
"Well, Mechanic lets Peters do what he wants and he seems to have a unique understanding of what the public's appetite for entertainment happens to be. "
Sumner's demeanor warmed slightly. "I knew his grandfather. Name used to be Petersburg. Made fortunes in paint and auto parts."
"Well the grandson is making a fortune on crap. And we're paying for it." Nelson leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
"We don't pay for all of it," Eisenfeld said, knowing that the cat was out of the bag.
"Of course we do." Nelson had no idea.
Eisenfeld sighed. "Co-financing. Peter's has been bringing in a lot of outside money."
Nelson's eyes bulged. An alert assistant stepped forward with a glass of water and a nitro pill for his heart. "Other people's money! Ballcom doesn't have partners! We own everything!" The assistant pushed the pill and the water in front of him insistently. Nelson placed the white pill in his mouth and gulped some water. But before he could resume Sumner held up his hand.
"Michael, co-financing?" Sumner shook his head. "Is there anything else we should know?"
"Next week, Peters plans on going public. Initially, he'll pipeline money into the company but he'll go to work shortly there after setting up credit lines against his stock. He'll want a new contract guaranteeing straight distribution from us-for a reasonable fee."
"Get rid of him!" Nelson demanded.
Sumner, who never smiled, smiled and began to laugh. He looked down at the table and composed himself. "Get rid of Peters, for what? Being ambitious."
"I'm the second largest shareholder of Ballcom stock-heads must roll." Nelson looked toward Eisenfeld.
Sumner followed his brother's stare. "Well Michael, you made a profit but broke the rules."
The blood drained from Eisenfeld's face. He sat at the table, white as a sheet and speechless.
"Fire Mechanic and," Sumner continued after what had been a disturbing pause, "put someone in charge over there that understands our expectations." Sumner turned to Nelson. "Are you happy now?"
Nelson smiled. "I want all candidates for the job run by my office for approval. And I want to be the one to tell the new guy to clean things up."
Sumner looked at Eisenfeld, who had been spared only to spite his brother and because entertainment had earned billions. "Did you get that, Michael?"
"Yes, Mr. Chairman. I'll make the necessary changes. What about the Peters IPO?"
Sumner stared past the end of the table, out the window, seeing everything. "I'll take care of that personally."
