Shadow Account

by Stephen Frey

  Patiently putting himself in the best position to win while letting others take risks.

  Lucas sat in the Rockville office, staring at the bare, gray walls around him, thinking about the mantra that had guided his life. But other than chess matches, what had he ever really won? He felt his face flush with the answer. Nothing. So what good was the damn mantra?

  He swallowed hard. Perhaps this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. The chance to finally make his mark on the world. He shuddered. But it would take so much courage and conviction. Two assets he’d never been long on.

  15

  It was a few minutes before eight as the Metroliner pulled into New York, creeping the last few hundred yards as it screeched, scraped, and swayed across a maze of switches at the throat of Penn Station’s yard. The train was an hour and a half late. It had broken down between Wilmington and Philadelphia on its way from Washington, giving Conner more time to work on the crossword puzzle he’d started early this morning on his way south from Newark. He pursed his lips, frustrated. He’d done all right for a first try, but there were still a lot of empty squares.

  He reread twenty-seven down’s clue for what seemed like the hundredth time.Egyptian goddess of fertility. Put that one in the “not happening” category, he thought to himself, dropping the newspaper onto the empty seat next to him as the train finally eased to a stop. He grabbed his briefcase and headed up the aisle toward the door. Jackie was right. Hehad gotten a new perspective. A humbling one. Of course, that had been her intention, he realized, managing a grin.

  He pressed his arm to his side, feeling for the cell phone in his jacket pocket. He’d tried calling several times today but hadn’t reached her. They hadn’t spoken since last night, since he’d walked her home, and he missed her. There was that gnawing anxiety, too. The sense that anyone he came into contact with at this point might come under scrutiny—or worse.

  And he was finally starting to figure out why. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen any more of the guy who had chased him at the airport this morning. He was constantly looking over his shoulder now.

  “Fifty-second and Park,” Conner ordered, climbing into a cab in front of Madison Square Garden.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Conner removed the phone from his jacket as the cab pulled away from the curb, and tried to reach Jackie. First at her office. Then at her apartment. Then he called her cell number. But there was no answer anywhere. “Dammit!”

  “Whatsa matta?” the cabbie asked.

  Conner shoved the cell phone back in his pocket. “Ah, I’m having a tough time with a crossword puzzle.”

  “Oh yeah? Give me a clue.”

  This ought to be interesting. “Egyptian goddess of fertility.”

  “Isis.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, Isis. That’s easy. Give me another one.”

  Conner glanced at a bar as the cab barreled past. Suddenly he wanted a drink. A good stiff shot of scotch. “Tell me you do a lot of crosswords.”

  “Not really.”

  The perspective was becoming even clearer.

  Ten minutes later Conner walked into Phenix Capital, dropping his briefcase on a credenza next to his cluttered desk. He was dead tired, but he needed to get started on the Pharmaco valuation. Gavin had pinged him several times today on his BlackBerry, demanding to know where he was. Reiterating the importance of getting started on the transaction immediately. Conner hadn’t responded to any of the messages. Including the last one explaining the old man’s plan to leave the office early this evening to go to East Hampton. But to be back in the office tomorrow morning no later than nine. Which was why Conner needed to get started on the analysis tonight. Showing Gavin some progress in the morning would go a long way toward calming him down.

  There was a huge accordion file sitting in the desk chair. It was the file Gavin had asked Pharmaco’s CEO to send over, Conner realized, peering inside. He picked it up, dropped it on the floor, then collapsed into the leather chair. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He needed to relax for a moment.

  “So, where’d you go today, pal?”

  Conner’s eyes flew open. Gavin stood in the doorway, scowling. He hadn’t gone to East Hampton—not yet, anyway. “I told you. I had personal business.”

  Gavin moved into the room and closed the door. “Personal business,” he repeated, like he hated the sound of it.

  “Yes.”

  “In a suit and tie?”

  “Yes, so?”

  “You sure you want to stick with that story?”

  Gavin felt he was one-up in some important way. Conner recognized the tone. “Why the inquisition?”

  “A man named Victor Hammond called me today. He’s a partner at the accounting firm of Baker Mahaffey. Works in their Washington office.”

  Conner’s fingers curled around the arms of the chair as Gavin said the words. “What did he want?”

  “He called because he wanted to talk about a company named Global Components.”

  “Global Components?”

  “Come on, Conner!”

  “All right, all right. So I went to see him.”

  “How is that ‘personal business’?” Gavin demanded. “Are you interviewing for a job with Global? Can Victor somehow help you with that? Or are you going to Baker Mahaffey?”

  “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Is this about Paul? Are you that pissed off about what he did to your presentation? Are you thinking about leaving Phenix? After all I’ve done for you? I told you, there’s nothing to worry about. Paul’s just going through a tough time. I told you I’m going to give youa piece of the firm , for God’s sake. Just give me a few weeks to work out the details, pal.”

  “Going to D.C. had nothing to do with taking a new job,” Conner said flatly. “I’m fine here at Phenix. You know that.”

  “Ithought I did.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “Then why did you go? What’s so interesting about Victor Hammond and Global Components?”

  Gavin was going to dig until he got to the truth. “It has to do with Liz Shaw.”

  The old man’s eyes widened. “Really? How?”

  “Remember I told you about that e-mail I got the night she was murdered.”

  “The e-mail that wasn’t meant for you.”

  “Right.”

  “So?” Gavin asked impatiently.

  “Whoever sent it identified a company that is fraudulently pumping up earnings per share. The company was code-named Project Delphi.”

  Gavin nodded. “I remember.”

  “I think Project Delphi is code for Global Components,” Conner said quietly.

  The old man’s mouth fell open slowly. “You’ve got to be kidding me, pal. Global Components is one of the biggest companies in this country. It has a sterling reputation in the financial markets. Right up there with Procter and Gamble and Coca-Cola.”

  “I know.”

  “Global is high profile,” Gavin continued. “Consistent earnings with an A-list of very prominent directors. In fact, I think Alan Bryson was on that board at one time. Bryson used to run Morgan Sayers.”

  “And now he’s treasury secretary.” Conner had seen Bryson’s name in several SEC reports he’d studied on the way down to Washington this morning. After his first several passes at the crossword puzzle. “A lot of other prominent people have been members of the Global Components board, too.”

  “Global must be worth fifty billion dollars.”

  “Almost a hundred.” Conner had checked that figure on the Bloomberg terminal in the “stable” while he was waiting for Glen Frolling.

  “I can’t believe it,” Gavin muttered.

  Conner explained the Parnassus and Delphi connection, and the fact that Global’s headquarters were located on a road by that name very close to Washington. The fact that the e-mail had identified Delphi as having operations in Dallas, Birmingham, and Seattle, and that Global had operations there as well. “The e
-mail I got the other night was sent to a person named Victor from someone named Rusty,” he added. “There’s a young guy at Baker Mahaffey whose nickname is Rusty. He works with Vic Hammond.”

  “Holy shit,” Gavin whispered.

  Conner nodded grimly. “That’s exactly what the stock market will say if what Rusty wrote in his e-mail is true and the company is baking the books in the fraud oven,” he said, recalling the line in the e-mail. “And someone breaks the story.”

  “How did you make the connection?”

  “Ah, I kind of stumbled onto it.” Conner could tell by Gavin’s expression that he wanted a better answer. But the old man didn’t push.

  “I don’t know if what you’ve found is proof positive that Global is the company in the e-mail,” Gavin said. “But the coincidences are compelling, I have to admit.”

  Conner had no doubt that what he’d found was proof positive. Especially with the mystery surrounding Minneapolis—the mention of it in the e-mail the other night, Hammond and Rusty flying out there this morning, and Frolling’s adamant denial that Global hadany operations in the Twin Cities.

  “How did you approach Victor Hammond?” the old man asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t just tell him you’d intercepted a confidential e-mail outlining the fact that Global was defrauding its shareholders, did you, pal?”

  “Sure,” Conner said with a half-smile. “It’s always better to hit them right between the eyes with the two-by-four. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?”

  “Come on,” Gavin said angrily. “What was your story?”

  Conner glanced down at the Pharmaco file. “Didn’t Hammond tell you?” he asked casually. The old man kept calling the Baker accountant “Victor.”

  Gavin blinked. “No. He just told me that you were down there today asking questions about Global Components. He wasn’t specific.”

  Conner hesitated, giving Gavin time to say more. Hoping that Gavin’s first instinct—like most people’s—would be to fill the dead air. But the old man stayed silent. “I told Hammond we were representing a company for sale that would be a good strategic fit with Global Components,” Conner explained. “He didn’t seem suspicious, and I didn’t give him a name of the company we were supposedly representing. I told him we were under strict instructions to handle the assignment secretly, and that I couldn’t release the name of the company until he’d signed a confidentiality agreement. He understood. In fact, while I was in his office he got me an appointment to meet with one of Global Components’ senior executives. Because I didn’t give him the name of the company, there’s nothing he can check to figure out that we aren’t really representing anybody in the industry.” Conner looked up as a thought crossed his mind. “Unless you told him we weren’t.”

  “I didn’t say anything. I wanted to talk to you first.” Gavin paused. “I’ll tell you something, pal, I’m not happy about you lying to this guy,” he said sternly. “Hammond sounds like a pretty senior guy at Baker Mahaffey. We might be able to do a lot of business with him. If he finds out we go around lying about companies we aren’t representing, we won’t have a second chance with him.”

  “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t think of any other way to—”

  Gavin held up one hand. “Did I hear you say that Hammond arranged for you to meet with someone at Global Components?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you didn’t actually meet with anyone at Global today.”

  “No, just with Hammond.” Conner was going to play things close to the vest. “I couldn’t. The people Hammond wanted me to see were all down in Miami. So I’m set up to go back down there next week. It’s killing me to wait, but what I can do?”

  “Who did Hammond arrange for you to meet with?”

  “I forget his name.”

  “What’s his title?”

  “I really don’t remember. Hammond’s assistant is going to send me an e-mail with all that information.”

  “Check and see if she sent it.”

  “She didn’t. I already looked.”

  “You just sat down. How could you have already looked?”

  Why the hell was Gavin was pushing so hard? “I checked my BlackBerry on the way up here in the cab from Penn Station.It hasn’t come yet. I told her this morning I wouldn’t be back in the office until tomorrow, so she’ll probably send it then.”

  “Oh.”

  “Let me follow up on this thing, Gavin. Don’t stop me.”

  “What exactly are you going to ask this person from Global when you meet with him?”

  Conner shrugged. “I’ll make it up as I go. Like I told you, I don’t know where else to go to figure out what happened to Liz.” Except for his friend at Merrill Lynch who was still checking into why Liz had left the firm so suddenly. But he wasn’t going to tell Gavin about that either.

  “I’m disappointed you didn’t feel you could tell me thisbefore you went to Washington,” Gavin said, moving to the door. “I told you I’d help as much as I could.”

  “This was just something I needed to take care of myself.”

  “What you thought was that I might not let you go.”

  “Well, maybe,” Conner admitted.

  “We had a deal.”

  “I know.”

  Gavin hesitated at the door. “Keep me informed, pal. I want to know who Victor Hammond is having you meet with at Global as soon as you get that e-mail from his assistant. I’ll have my people check him out. If there’s something fraudulent going on at Global Components, you have no idea how far the execs there might go if they think someone’s closing in on them.”

  “I understand.” It was the same warning Jackie had given him.

  The old man pointed at the stack of Pharmaco files. “Get to work, pal. I told the CEO we’d be back to him by the end of the week, but I don’t want to wait that long. I want to know by tomorrow afternoon what you believe Pharmaco’s value is so we can assess the European company’s offer.” He chuckled. “And, Conner, I think it would be a good thing if your valuation is a lot higher than the European offer. Don’t come back and tell me that their offer is fair. I’d hate to have to put somebody else on the transaction. Remember, we get paid on a percentage of the deal. The bigger the better.”

  “Of course, Gavin.” He’d heard that so many times.

  Gavin expression brightened. “By the way, I’m discussing a second engagement with another old CEO friend of mine. This time it’s a buy-side deal. His company is considering a major acquisition. The target is worth several billion dollars, which would mean another fat fee for us. I want you to be my lieutenant on that deal, too, pal.”

  “Thanks.”

  Gavin smiled. “Looks like it’s going to be a damn good year after all. I can feel it.” He waved and was gone.

  Conner stared into the hallway until he heard Gavin go out the front door. Two multibillion-dollar transactions closing before year end, which would translate into at least $30 to $40 million in fees for Phenix Capital. Conner reached for the Pharmaco file. That would take care of the stack of bills he’d seen in Gavin’s kitchen drawer—and leave plenty for seven-figure bonuses.

  Amy Richards picked up the napkin and placed it in her lap as Paul Stone sat down on the other side of the table. Stone was nice enough to her when they met, but something told her it was all just an act. That if he didn’t want anything from her, he wouldn’t have given her the time of day.

  “How have you been, Amy?” Stone began.

  “All right.”

  “How’s your son?”

  “His birthday is next week.”

  “Really? And how old will he be?”

  “Six,” Amy answered, “and I want to get him something nice. Somethingvery nice.”

  “I’m sure you—”

  “But I don’t have any cash, because you haven’t paid me, Paul.” The most important thing about all this for Amy was to get herself back into Conner’s life. But,
after all, a deal was a deal. Stone had promised her $25,000, and he hadn’t delivered a cent of it. She’d given up her waitressing job to do this, and her meager savings were gone. “I want my money.”

  Stone’s expression turned grim. “Have you gotten me anything yet? Any proof?”

  “That wasn’t the arrangement. You never said that payment was contingent on me finding—”

  “Conner Ashby is screwing my wife,” Stone blurted out, teeth gritted. “I know it. You have to get me evidence.”

  Amy glanced around, aware that people at the tables close to them had stopped talking. “Look,” she said quietly, leaning forward, “I’ve been following Conner and your wife for a while now, and they haven’t met once.”

  “You can’t be sure of that,” he hissed. “And how do I know you’ve really been following them? Why should I trust you?”

  Amy tossed her napkin on the table. “I don’t need this,” she said, starting to stand up.

  But he caught her hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just upset. Mandy took today off and I couldn’t reach her. I’m sure she was with—”

  “She was with a couple of her girlfriends,” Amy explained, easing back into the chair. “I watched her all day. I’m telling you, she didn’t see Conner.”

  Stone caressed Amy’s hand, nodding. “Good. I’m so glad,” he murmured, sounding relieved. He shook his head, gazing into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Amy. Sooner or later, Conner’s going to wake up and realize what a fool he’s been.”

  She watched his thumb move back and forth on her skin. “I hope so,” she said quietly.

  Stone squeezed her fingers. “From now on, stay with Conner. There’s no need to follow Mandy anymore. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “One more thing,” Stone said, releasing her hand.

  “What?”

  “Be careful with Conner.”

  Amy glanced up. “What do you mean by that?”

  Stone picked up a roll and began buttering it. “Gavin is having friends of his check Conner out very thoroughly.”

  “Why?”

  “We have questions.”

  “What kind of questions?” she asked.