and Bill.
Paul discussed this with Coburn. It contradicted what they were hearing
from the U.S. Embassy. The Embassy's advice
ON WINGS OF EAGLES 31
was surely better than Bunny Fleischaker's, they agreed. They decided to
take no action.
Paul spent Christmas Day quietly, with a few colleagues, at the home of Pat
Sculley, a young EDS manager who had volunteered to return to Tehran.
Sculley's wife, Mary, had also come back, and she cooked Christmas dinner.
Paul missed Ruthie and the children.
Two days after Christmas the Embassy called. They had succeeded in setting
up a meeting for Paul and Bill with Examining Magistrate Hosain Dadgar. The
meeting was to take place the following morning, December 28, at the
Ministry of Health building on Eisenhower Avenue.
Bill Gaylord came into Paul's office a little after nine, carrying a cup of
coffee, dressed in the EDS uniform: business suit, white shirt, quiet tie,
black brogue shoes.
Like Paul, Bill was thirty-nine, of middle height, and stocky; but there
the resemblance ended. Paul had dark coloring, heavy eyebrows, deepset
eyes, and a big nose: in casual clothes he was often mistaken for an
Iranian until he opened his mouth and spoke English with a New York accent.
Bill had a flat, round face and very white skin: nobody would take him for
anything but an Anglo.
They had a lot in common. Both were Roman Catholic, although Bill was more
devout. They loved good food. Both had trained as systems engineers and
joined EDS in the n-dd-sixties, Bill in 1965 and Paul in 1966. Both had had
splendid careers with EDS, but although Paul had joined a year later he was
now senior to Bill. Bill knew the health-care business inside out, and he
was a first-class "people manager," but he was not as pushy and dynamic as
Paul. Bill was a deep thinker and a careful organizer. Paul would never
have to worry about Bill making an important presentation: Bill would have
prepared every word.
They worked together well. When Paul was hasty, Bill would make him pause
and reflect. When Bill wanted to plan his way around every bump in the
road, Paul would tell him just to get in and drive.
They had been acquainted in the States but had got to know one another well
in the last nine months. When Bill had arrived in Tehran, last March, he
had lived at the Chiapparones' house until his wife, Emily, and the
children came over. Paul felt almost protective toward him: it was a shame
that Bill had had nothing but problems here in Iran.
32 Ken Follett
Bill was much more worried by the rioting and the shooting than most of the
others-perhaps because he had not been here long, perhaps because he was
more of a worrier by nature. He also took the passport problem more
seriously than Paul. At one time he had even suggested that the two of them
take a train to the northeast of Iran and cross the border into Russia, on
the grounds that nobody would expect American businessmen to escape via the
Soviet Union.
Bill also missed Emily and the children badly, and Paul felt somewhat
responsible, because he had asked Bill to come to Iran.
Still, it was almost over. Today they would see Mr. Dadgar and get their
passports back. Bill had a reservation on a plane out tomorrow. Emily was
planning a welcome-home party for him on New Year's Eve. Soon all this
would seem like a bad dream.
Paul smiled at Bill. "Ready to go?"
"Any time."
"Let's get Abolhasan." Paul picked up the phone. Abolhasan was the most
senior Iranian employee, and advised Paul on Iranian business methods. The
son of a distinguished lawyer, he was married to an American woman, and
spoke very good English. One of his jobs was translating EDS's contracts
into Farsi. Today he would translate for Paul and Bill at their meeting
with Dadgar.
He came immediately to Paul's office and the three men left. They did not
take a lawyer with them. According to the Embassy this meeting would be
routine, the questioning informal. To take lawyers along would not only be
pointless, but might antagonize Mr. Dadgar and lead him to suspect that
Paul and Bill had something to hide. Paul would have liked to have a member
of the Embassy staff present, but this idea also had been turned down by
Lou Goelz: it was not normal procedure to send Embassy representatives to
a meeting such as this. However, Goelz had advised Paul and Bill to take
with them documents establishing when they had come to Iran, what their
official positions were, and the scope of their responsibilities.
As the car negotiated its way through the usual insane Tehran traffic, Paul
felt depressed. He was glad to be going home, but he hated to admit
failure. He had come to Iran to build up EDS's business here, and he found
himself dismantling it. Whatever way you looked at it the company's first
overseas venture had been a failure. It was not Paul's fault that the
government of Iran
ON WINGS OF EAGLES 33
had run out of money, but that was small consolation: excuses did not make
profits.
They drove down the treelined Eisenhower Avenue, as -wide and straight as
any American highway, and pulled into the courtyard of a square, ten-story
building set back from the stieet and guarded by soldiers with automatic
rifles. This was the Social Security Organization of the Ministry of Health
and Social Welfare. It was to have been the powerhouse of the new Iranian
welfare state: here, side by side, the Iranian government and EDS had
worked to build a social-security system. EDS occupied the entire seventh
floor-Bill's office was there.
Paid, Bill, and Abolhasan showed their passes and went in. The corridors
were duty and poorly decorated, and the building was cold: the heat was off
again. They were directed to the office Mr. Dadgar was using.
They found him in a small room with dirty walls, sitting behind an old gray
steel desk. In front of him on the desk were a notebook and a pen. Through
the window Paul could see the data center EDS was building next door.
Abolhasan introduced everyone. There was an Iranian woman sitting on a
chair beside Dadgar's desk: her name was Mrs. Nourbash, and she was
Dadgar's interpreter.
They all sat down on dilapidated metal chairs. Tea was served. Dadgar began
to speak in Farsi. His voice was soft but rather deep, and his expression
was blank. Paul studied him as he waited for the translation. Dadgar was a
short, stocky man in his fifties, and for some reason he made Paul think of
Archie Bunker. His complexion was dark and his hair was combed forward, as
if to hide the fact that it was receding. He had a mustache and glasses,
and he wore a sober suit.
Dadgar finished speaking, and Abolhasan said: "He warns you that he has the
power to arrest you if he finds your answers to his questions
unsatisfactory. In case you did not realize this, he says you may postpone
the interview to give your lawyers time to arrange bail
Paul was surprised by this development, but he evaluated i
t fast, just like
any other business decision. Okay, he thought, the worst thing that can
happen is that he won't believe us and he will arrest us-but we're not
murderers, we'll be out on bail in twenty-four hours. Then we might be
confined to the country, and we would have to meet with our attorneys and
try to work
34 Ken FoIkU
things out ... which is no worse than the situation we're in now.
He looked at Bill. "What do you think?"
Bill shrugged. "Goelz says this meeting is routine. The stuff about bad
sounds like a formality--like reading you your rights. "
Paul nodded. "And the last thing we want is a postponement."
"Then let's get it over with."
Paul turned to Mrs. Nourbash. "Please tell Mr. Dadgar that neither of us
has committed a crune, and neither of us has any knowledge of anyone else
committing a crime, so we are confident that no charges will be made
against us, and we would like to get this finished up today so that we can
go home.
Mrs. Nourbash translated.
Dadgar said he wanted first to interview Paul alone. Bill should come back
in an hour.
Bill left.
Bill went up to his office on the seventh floor. He picked up the phone,
called Bucharest, and reached Lloyd Briggs. Briggs was Number 3 in the
hierarchy after Paul and Bill.
"Dadgar says he has the power to arrest us," Bill told Briggs. "We might
need to put up bail. Call the Iranian attorneys and find out what that
means."
"Sure," Briggs said. "Where are you?"
"In my office here at the Ministry."
"I'll get back to you."
Bill hung up and waited. The idea of his being arrested was kind of
ridiculous-4espite the widespread corruption of modem Iran, EDS had never
paid bribes to get contacts. But even if bribes had been paid, Bill would
not have paid them: his job was to deliver the product, not win the order.
Briggs called back within a few minutes. "You've got nothing to worry
about," he said. "Just last week a man accused of murder had his bail set
at a million and a half rials. "
Bill did a quick calculation: That was twenty thousand dollars. EDS could
probably pay that in cash. For some weeks they had been keeping large
arnounts of cash, both because of the bank strikes and for use during the
evacuation. "How much do we have in the office safe?"
"Around seven million rials, plus fifty thousand dollars."
So, Bill thought, even if we are arrested, we'll be able to
ON WINGS OF EAGLES 35
post bail immediately. "Thanks," he said. "That makes me feel a lot better."
Downstairs, Dadgar had written down Paul's full name, date and place of
birth, schools attended, experience in computers, and qualifications; and he
had carefully examined the document that officially named Paul as Country
Manager for Electronic Data Systems Corporation Iran. Now he asked Paul to
give an account of how EDS had secured its contract with the Ministry of
Health.
Paul took a deep breath. "First, I would like to point out that I was not
working in Irari at the time the contract was negotiated and signed, so I
do not have firsthand knowledge of this. However, I will tell you what I
understand the procedure to have been."
Mrs. Nourbash translated and Dadgar nodded.
Paul continued, speaking slowly and rather formally to help the translator.
"In 1975 an EDS executive, Paul Bucha, learned that the Ministry was
looking for a data-processing company experienced in health insurance and
social-security work. He came to Tehran, had meetings with Ministry
officials, and deteriiiined the nature and scale of the work the Ministry
wanted done. He was told that the Ministry had already received proposals
for the project from Louis Berger and Company, Marsh & McClennan, ISIRAN,
and UNIVAC, and that a fifth proposal was on its way from Cap Gemini
Sogeti. He said that EDS was the leading data-processing company in the
United States and that our company specialized in exactly this kind of
health-care work. He offered the Ministry a free preliminary study. The
offer was accepted."
When he paused for translation, Paul noticed, Mrs. Nourbash seemed to say
less than he had said; and what Dadgar wrote down was shorter still. He
began to speak more slowly and to pause more often. "The Ministry obviously
liked EDS's proposals, because they then asked us to perform a detailed
study for two hundred thousand dollars. The results of our study were pre-
sented in October 1975. The Ministry accepted our proposal and began
contract negotiations. By August 1976 the contract was agreed upon."
"Was everything above board?" Dadgar asked through Mrs. Nourbash.
"Absolutely," Paul said. "It took another three months to go through the
lengthy process of getting all the necessary approvals
36 Ken Folktt
from many government departments, including the Shah's court. None of these
steps was omitted. The contract went into effect at the end of the year."
"Was the contract price exorbitant?"
"It showed a maximum expected pretax profit of twenty percent, which is in
line with other contracts of this magnitude, both here and in other
countries. "
"And has EDS fulfilled its obligations under the contract?"
This was something on which Paul did have firsthand knowledge. "Yes, we
have."
"Could you produce evidence?"
"Certainly. The contract specifies that I should meet with Ministry
officials at certain intervals to review progress: those meetings have
taken place and the Ministry has the minutes of the meetings on file. The
contract lays down a complaints procedure for the Ministry to use if EDS
fails to fulfill its obligations: that procedure has never been used. "
Mrs. Nourbash translated, but Dadgar did not write anything down. He must
know all this anyway, Paul thought.
He added: "Look out the window. There is our data center. Go and see it.
There are computers in it. Touch them. They work. They produce information.
Read the printouts. They are being used."
Dadgar made a brief note. Paul wondered what he was really after.
The next question was: "What is your relationship with the Mahvi group?"
"When we first came to Iran we were told that we had to have Iranian
partners in order to do business here. The Mahvi group are our partners.
However, their main role is to supply us with Iranian staff. We meet with
them periodically, but they have liWe to do with the running of our
business."
Dadgar asked why Dr. Towliati, a Ministry official, was on the EDS payroll.
Was this not a conflict of interest?
Here at last was a question that made sense. Paul could see how Towliati's
role could appear irregular. However, it was easily explained. "In our
contract we undertake to supply expert consultants to help the Ministry
make the best use of the service we provide. Dr. Towliati is such a
consultant. He has a dataprocessing background, and he is familiar with
both Iranian and American business methods. He is paid by EDS, rather than
>
by the Ministry, because Ministry salaries are too low to attract a
ON WINGS OF EAGLES 37
man of his caliber. However, the Ministry is obliged to reimburse us for his
salary, as laid down in the contract; so he is not really paid by us."
Once again Dadgar wrote down very little. He could have got all this
information from the files, Paul thoughiq. perhaps he has.
Dadgar asked: "But why does Dr. Towliati sign invoices?"
"That's easy," Paul replied. "He does not, and never has. The closest he
comes is this: he would inform the Minister that a certain task has been
completed, where the specification of that task is too technical for
verification by a layman." Paul smiled. "He takes his responsibility to the
Ministry very seriously-4ie is easily our harshest critic, and he will
characteristically ask a lot of tough questions before verifying completion
of a task. I sometimes wish I did have him in my pocket."
Mrs. Nourbash translated. Paul was thinking: What is Dadgar after? First he
asks about the contract negotiations, which happened before my time; then
about the Mahvi group and Dr. Towliati, as if they were sensationally
important. Maybe Dadgar himself doesn't know what he's looking for-maybe
he's just fishing, hoping to come up with evidence of something illegal.
How long can this farce go on?
Bill was outside in the corridor, wearing his topcoat to keep out the cold.
Someone had brought him a glass of tea, and he warmed his hands on it while
he sipped. The building was dark as well as cold.
Dadgar had immediately struck Bill as being different from the average
Iranian. He was cold, gruff, and inhospitable. The Embassy had said Dadgar
was "favorably disposed" toward Bill and Paul, but that was not the
impression Bill had.
Bill wondered what game Dadgar was playing. Was he trying to intimidate
them, or was he seriously considering arresting them? Either way, the
meeting was not turning out the way the Embassy had anticipated. Their
advice, to come without lawyers or Embassy representatives, now looked
mistaken: perhaps they just did not want to get involved. Anyway, Paul and
Bill were on their own now. It was not going to be a pleasant day. But at
the end of it they would be able to go home.
Follett, Ken - On Wings of Eagles.txt Page 4
