The Tipping Point: A Wainwright Mystery

by Walter Danley

  “Aren’t they too young for football?”

  “Not Tim. He’s a football addict. He loves the game; playing it is more enjoyment for him than watching college or pros on TV. Brian’s too young for the team, but they made him the manager, which means he’s one notch below water boy. There, on your right, just ahead is a parking space.”

  Nineteen

  “I’m free of all prejudices. I hate everyone equally.” ~ W. C. Fields

  THURSDAY—NOVEMBER | Ragnar Borstad took enormous pride that he was now CEO of the largest publicly traded property management firm in the country. Listing All Cities on the New York Stock Exchange came off without a hitch last month, and greatly intensified Borstad’s hubris. In fact, it was his puffed-up, dictatorial attitude that was responsible for a noticeable increase in employee turnover. His arrogance reflected down the line, from Borstad to the regional vice presidents, to the over-stressed human resources staff, to the regional managers, and finally to the on-site property managers and their staffs. What comes around goes around, as the man said.

  Despite these behavioral issues, All Cities continued to grow. In addition to managing the CapVest properties, All Cities now successfully solicited third-party management assignments. It’s like the saying going around business circles lately, “Nobody ever got fired for buying IBM.” Borstad thought of his property management firm as IBM is to computers. His intercom buzzed as he gazed outside his office window at the snow-capped Rockies. “Yes, Marge?”

  “Mr. Wainwright is here and would like to see you. I don’t show an appointment for him.”

  “That’s all right. Give me five minutes, then bring Wainwright in,” Borstad told his assistant.

  The chilly feeling between the two men had not warmed since the last board meeting when they’d seen each other. Borstad offered Wainwright a perfunctory greeting as he entered the Denver headquarters office of All Cities’ CEO. “What brings you east, Garth?”

  Wainwright walked into the office and stood next to Borstad at his antique architect’s desk. He rested an elbow on the standup desk and stared into the face he was persuaded was evil. “I wanted to ask what you know about our three partners’ ‘accidental’ deaths, Ragnar. The cops are starting to ask questions in Bellevue. If this gets out of hand, it will be disastrous for the firm, so I’m asking the questions first in order to keep all this in-house and head off the coming calamity.”

  “Commendable, I’m sure, but there is nothing I can tell you about any of that business. What makes you think I have any information, anyway?”

  “The cops will soon learn that the terms of both Burke and Clyburn’s mergers excluded those valuable accounts from your property management...and fees.”

  “Yes, so?”

  “So, to the cops, that might look like a good motive to harm the two men who kept the management contracts. It might put the investigation spotlight on you and All Cities. That wouldn’t be good for your stock price, and it sure wouldn’t help with those three guys from the CalPERS that left your office before Marge allowed me to grace your presence, now, would it not? I doubt that the second largest pension plan in the US will be doing business with a criminal suspect.”

  Borstad turned his back to Wainwright, shuffling files on his desk. “No wonder you are such a good salesman, Garth. Your imagination works overtime. I have nothing to say to you or the authorities about those accidents.”

  “No? Well how about the tragic death of your former CFO? What do you know about Robert Keating’s ‘accident’? You know, Borstad, for a Phi Beta Kappa, you just aren’t seeing the big picture here. I doubt the cops have anyone with your intelligence on their staff, but they will see the connection. Tell me, who is in this with you? How about doing something to help keep our companies from imploding?”

  With a spin worthy of an Olympic figure skater, Borstad turned on Wainwright. “Get out of my office. You have no right to walk in here with these outrageous accusations. Your fly-by-night theory is absurd. The deaths of Burke and Clyburn didn’t increase my portfolio one bit. Are you suggesting that every time All Cities loses a management contract, we send out a hit squad?”

  “Borstad, my concern is for CapVest. I have no interest in your firm, nor do I give a rat’s ass about you. As I see it, this is the only chance you have for help. Eventually, the police will grab you and the SEC will shut us down. In fact, now that All Cities is public, I’m sure the SEC will take a prominent interest in you. Don’t you see that even if you’re not involved, the investigation and bad press coverage will destroy both All Cities and CapVest? And after that, ol’ pal, it cannot be stopped.”

  “I’m not your ‘ol’ pal’ and what I know is that you are delusional. Now go, get out of my office or I’ll be the one who calls the cops.”

  “Borstad, you need all the friends you can get right now. You have damn few under the best of circumstances. Getting in front of this thing early is the only way to avert the destruction of both our companies. It’s about to rain SEC and cops all over you, Borstad. I’m here to offer an umbrella.”

  “I guess your hearing has gone along with any good sense you may have once had. I’ve told you I’m not involved, and I don’t know anything about those accidents.”

  “Okay, Borstad. Have it your way. But let me tell you one more thing. The cops and the SEC haven’t stumbled on to this yet.” Wainwright paused, stepping back a pace from the desk and standing by the large window. “Before Keating died, he developed proof positive that you’ve been ripping off the public funds for millions of dollars. We have all the evidence that provides plenty of motive for you to have Keating killed. You are about to become the main suspect in three murders. We also know someone at CapVest was accommodating your fraud. We will go to the SEC with that, unless you cooperate with me now. You’re looking right down the double barrels of a prosecution by the SEC and multiple murder charges by three different states.”

  “Stop it! You’re out of your mind.”

  “Hey, pal, don’t bullshit a bullshitter. We have the goods that will buy you a lifetime lease on a Federal prison cell. And, by the way, that evidence of fraud is with my attorney, in case you’re thinking you’ll do to me what you did to Keating. It won’t work. The lawyers have been instructed to take it to the Feds if I’m not around, so you are on notice. This thing has gotten way bigger than you can handle, no matter who’s helping you at CapVest. The game is over, Borstad. The one thing left unknown is the final score—how many years you’ll get when they put you away.”

  Borstad collapsed onto the arm of his sofa and ran a hand through his hair. He looked up to Wainwright, exhaled deeply, and hung his head. “I need some time to think this through, Garth. Let me call you in the next few days before you do anything.”

  “No way, José. I’m the last train out of town. Either you’re on it, cooperating with an unofficial investigation, or you are raw meat that we’ll throw to the Federal wolf. And I need to know which choice you’re going to pick—now. When I leave here, I call our legal counsel, and that’s the ballgame. It’s over for everyone. If you think about it, what other choice do any of us have?”

  “Garth, I need to talk to some people. Stay in town tonight and I’ll meet you in the morning. I’m sure we can work this out for all our sakes. I know we can. Where will you be staying?”

  “Someplace you can’t get to me, Borstad. Let’s just say I trust you with the same intensity you dislike me. I’ll call you at seven in the morning. We will meet somewhere, but only on the condition you agree to help save the company. All right?”

  Borstad stood up. He lost the stiff-backed posture he always presented. With his head hanging, his shoulders slumped, and without looking up, he said in a very small voice, “Right, yes, okay.”

  With that, Garth Wainwright, self-appointed investigative agent for all CapVesters, left a dejected Borstad standing alone as he walked from the office. At the street corner to hail a cab, he thought, interesting Borstad didn’t ask me
if I’d spoken to Ed or Arnold about this. So he knew I’m in Denver without their blessings. One or both are in the deal with Borstad; it has to be.

  At seven the next morning, Wainwright called Borstad at his home. They agreed to meet for breakfast at the Grand Wollcott-Denver. He hadn’t stayed there last night. Since it was the city’s dominant downtown hotel, Wainwright truly was concerned for his safety. Precedence dictated the basic survival rule: Don’t be too easy to find when someone may be trying to kill you.

  He figured he was less likely to be machine-gunned to death in the lobby of the Wollcott than in a small coffee shop somewhere. Waiting for Borstad to arrive, fear pervaded his thoughts. What the hell am I doing here? Playing detective is dangerous, and my Naval training won’t cut it. Man, I am way over my pay grade here. I have to have some help on this. No way can I pull this off alone; too many variables, too many people, too much risk. Who pinned the ‘hero badge’ on me, anyway? I need help, but who can I trust?

  Borstad arrived at the hotel, sans machine-gun, and took the chair across from Wainwright. The waiter brought coffee and retreated. Wainwright asked, “So what’s it gonna be?”

  “I want my lawyer to be here when I discuss this with you.”

  “No dice, ol’ pal. This swamp is already full of alligators, and adding sharks ain’t gonna make nothin’ better for nobody. We do this my way, because there isn’t any other way it can be played, and you know that. We know there is a conspiracy, so I want you to tell me all about the killings. With the facts, we’ll do what can be done to save the company. But the killers are dead meat, so unburden your soul, Ragnar, and let me get to work on this.”

  “Garth, believe me, I had nothing to do with Keating’s death or the others. I didn’t. That’s the God’s truth. I’ll tell you what you want about the…the aah…manipulation of…”

  “Oh, for the love of God! Cut the crap. Just tell it like it is. You didn’t ‘manipulate,’ you asshole, you stole money from the investors and tried to cover it up. That is called fraud, F-R-A-U-D. Don’t try to sugarcoat this, Butch. That’s just gonna piss me off. We fix this mess or we’ll all spiral down the same drain. Look, I’m not sure what I can do to fix anything, but so far, I seem to be the singular one who’s trying, so stuff the rationalization up your ass and give me the short version of what is going on. Is it still going on?”

  Borstad, still draped in dejected deportment, finally said, “No, it stopped when CapVest spun off All Cities. Those funds…the stolen funds…some of them financed the spin-off. You have no idea how expensive—”

  “All right. I get that, but we agreed, no excuses, so tell it straight and save the hearts and flowers.”

  “We used dummy companies that were supposed to supply services to the properties. Invoices, service call slips, the entire program. The onsite people just processed the invoices. The invoices went into the system and got paid normally by accounting. I used mail drops for the vendor addresses on the invoices. The mail drops forwarded the checks to a separate bank account here in Denver.”

  “Who else in All Cities knew about the fraud?”

  “None of my people were involved. The story was floated that one of my relatives, an uncle, was the contractor, or a cousin was the supplier. That is why there were no other bids taken for the work. On a few occasions, an onsite manager would call me to say the work was never done. Because it was my relative, they’d call me instead of going through procedures to their supervisors. It worked pretty well, but some of them got inquisitive and asked too many questions, so they were let go. You know, the irony is the ones I fired were better at their jobs than those who stayed. We train ’em well here at All Cities.”

  “Great, so you covered all the bases at All Cities and you’re the only crook here, is that your story?”

  “Yes, I did it all. No one else was needed to make it work.”

  “How much did you steal? I want to know the numbers, properties, and the first date this began.”

  “I don’t know. Somewhere around sixteen or seventeen.”

  “Million?”

  “Yeah, million. It started…” Borstad laughed. “It started when you went behind my back and took property sales away from All Cities. Yeah, that is about when it started. You gave me the idea several years ago.”

  “Oh, I see. You weren’t going to get the sales fees, so it was all right to make up for it by stealing from the properties. Terrific! Borstad, it doesn’t take anywhere near sixteen million dollars to finance an IPO. And you’ve been at this game for years. Where’d the money go?”

  “Aah…that’s not something I am going to discuss.”

  “The hell you say! You said there was no one here involved, but you did need help at CapVest. Who?”

  “That is all I’m telling you until I see my lawyer.”

  “Borstad, I know it is difficult for you to change your natural behavior, but stop being an asshole! It’s obvious the killings are related to your fraud. You can tell me you’re innocent all day long, but I doubt that is going to play with either the cops or the Feds. If I’m going to put a lid on this, you have to tell me the whole story. It’s the one way it can feasibly work, don’t you see that?”

  “Yeah, I see that your trying to play company savior isn’t going to work. I know I’ve got big problems, but I’m not spilling my guts to a guy who just thinks he might be able to ‘put a lid on it’.”

  “Okay, let’s do this another way. Let me lay it out for you the way I now see it. You cooked the books to embezzle enough to finance a nicer lifestyle and fund the IPO. It got out of hand, and you stole sixteen million dollars from the properties before you shut it down. Clearly a violation of your fiduciary duties, not to mention the trust the partners placed in you.

  “Keating, Tommy, and I found evidence of your fraud and took it to Arnold. Arnold ignored it and has done nothing, so he’s in this with you up to your collective asses. You had Shirley Shaw’s house burglarized and staged a car crash that almost killed Caroline Keating. Then Keating dies trying to fly his sports car off a mountain. You bastard! He was alive and petrified with fear for a fall of a thousand feet. The terror that poor man suffered… Borstad, you did that to Robert! You killed one of the best men I know. For that, I want your ass in a sling. I want you to pay big time.”

  “I keep telling you, I had nothing to do with any of that, and do not know who did or why. Honest to God, I didn’t. None of that is on me. Please believe me. I don’t know who did it, but it wasn’t me. I may go to jail for fraud, but I’m not taking a needle for murders.”

  “You’re going down for the fraud. The cops will find out about Burke, Clyburn, and Keating. You’re a scumbag, and you’re going down for all of it.” Spittle sprayed from Wainwright’s lips.

  “Look, I understand that by proclaiming my innocence about the killings and confessing my guilt on…the other subject, it’s hard to accept, but it’s true. Okay, look, the money from the properties went into a private partnership account. It was a rainy-day fund for me. I planned to use the funds to take All Cities public, but the money built up faster than I thought. There was more than I needed, so I just let it go on.

  “When you guys went to Arnold with the fraud evidence, he jumped on me. I thought he’d throw me straight into prison, but instead, he told me to distribute the funds and make certain there was no evidence trail. Arnold told me to collapse the partnership, as if it never was.”

  “Who got the money?” Wainwright probed.

  “It was distributed to Arnold, Ed, Bennie, Herb, and me. We shared equally.”

  “Herb? You stole for your best bud, Herb?”

  “Arnold said he must be in the partnership. It was the one way he’d go along with the scheme, so I agreed.”

  “Not Jules? You didn’t put him on the payola list?”

  “Arnold said to get rid of the entire thing so Jules or others would never find any trace, especially the SEC. He said something else that didn’t sound like the Arn
old Chaplain we all know. He said, ‘All partners are equal, but some are more equal than others.’ Then he laughed aloud. Have you ever heard Arnold laugh like that before?”

  “Well, how about that. The founders and the two corporate adopted sons admit to the dirty dealing millions of investor funds. Borstad, you are a real piece of work. No, no…you’re a real piece of shit! What about the Ecstasy? Are you doing drugs with Arnold?”

  “Absolutely not. He gave me the pitch about it being better than a shrink, but no, I don’t do drugs of any kind. I don’t even take aspirin. I’ve been concerned about Arnold and Ed getting into that stuff. It has changed them; Arnold, anyway. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “Yeah, I have. Who else on the board is into it?”

  “I have no idea. I stayed clear of anything to do with drugs.”

  “Borstad, I’m taking this information back to figure out what I can do to keep the Federal wolf away from the door. If he gets in, we’re all screwed. Everyone! Do not tell anyone I was here, or what you’ve told me. If there is a chance to keep this from fraud prosecution, then the element of surprise might play to our advantage. One other thing you should keep in mind—what you have done is not the CapVest Way, asshole!”

  Wainwright got out of Denver as fast as Centennial Airlines could move him back to LA. On the plane, he tried to reason the why questions that surrounded this debacle. The founders? All of them are already wealthy. Why jeopardize everything they have worked to create for sixteen million bucks? Borstad said, “Shared equally,” so a little more than three million each. Why? It doesn’t compute. Last year’s profits for CapVest were over fifteen million. Arnold’s one-year share alone was almost three and a half million. Next year, it’ll be more than four million, and every year after, growing. Why would he be a part of something like Borstad’s fraud? What is the connection of the fraud to the killings? Questions, he had plenty, but answers, not so much.