executives. How much have Kamin and Marshall missed or ignored in their due-diligence evaluation of my father’s business practices? Wilson wondered. What about Kamin? He’s been an associate of my father’s for years. How much does he know? What about the others? Daniel had assured Wilson that neither he nor his family would suffer any liability, regardless of what might come to light after the transaction was completed. Everyone in the room seemed satisfied, except maybe Cheryl O’Grady. She was one of KaneWeller’s attorneys, who kept staring at Wilson like a schoolteacher suspecting a student of cheating during an exam, which only served to amplify Wilson’s anxiety and wariness.
When all the documents were signed and properly distributed, Marshall Winthorpe handed Daniel a wire transfer order for $3.2 billion and stock certificates worth $1.8 billion to be deposited in an escrow account at UBS, where they would remain for the next thirty days. To speed up the negotiations, Daniel had proposed a thirty-day grace period during which KaneWeller could back out of the deal with sufficient cause, namely the discovery of any material misrepresentation of the facts by Fielder & Company. Daniel didn’t expect any problems since KaneWeller wasn’t looking for a way out. Wilson hoped he was right.
Less than forty-five minutes after they’d sat down at the boardroom table, Marshal Winthorpe and Wilson Fielder stood, shook hands, and congratulated each other. KaneWeller’s acquisition of his father’s eighty-two percent ownership of Fielder & Company had been consummated, at least provisionally. As the hand shaking and congratulations extended to the others in the boardroom, staffers from Daniel’s law firm brought in the traditional cigars and whiskey—Bolivar Corona Gigantes and Chivas Regal Royal Salute. An hour later, only Daniel and Wilson were left in the boardroom.
“I’m glad that’s completed,” Daniel said.
“You’re worried, aren’t you?”
Daniel gazed at Wilson for a prolonged moment. “Just glad there were no last minute surprises. Now we can accelerate the rest of the liquidation.”
“What else?”
“We have about seventy percent of your father’s stock positions and investment partnerships left to monetize.”
“No. I mean what else is bothering you? You said we’d talk about it after the signing,” Wilson said.
“Nothing that time won’t resolve,” Daniel said as he began picking up the documents from the conference table.
Wilson’s frustration was rising. He placed his hand on Daniel’s arm to stop his busywork. “I need to know what else is going on, Daniel.”
Daniel glared at Wilson before responding. “I’m concerned about the mounting surveillance,” he said abruptly and then returned to picking up papers.
This time Wilson grabbed Daniel’s arm. The jolt sent some of the papers sliding across the table and onto the floor. “Goddammit. What aren’t you telling me?” Wilson demanded.
“We didn’t expect this level of surveillance,” Daniel said, his eyes like pinwheels. “The number of people, the equipment, it’s more than we…”
“Where are they?”
“One of their locations is across the street from your family’s home on Brattle Street, on the top floor…”
“The Broadhead place? They wouldn’t…”
“The Broadheads don’t know about it. They’re in the Bahamas for four more weeks. Looks like the graduate student taking care of the house in their absence couldn’t resist the opportunity to make some extra cash. He’s temporarily moved into a bedroom in the basement.”
“How many people?”
“More than a dozen—four at the Broadhead house.”
“What kind of equipment?”
“Everything. Remote listening devices, motion-sensitive cameras, scanners that identify phone numbers and email addresses, car tracking satellite systems … you name it, they’ve got it.”
“Our security service hasn’t reported anything unusual,”
When all the documents were signed and properly distributed, Marshall Winthorpe handed Daniel a wire transfer order for $3.2 billion and stock certificates worth $1.8 billion to be deposited in an escrow account at UBS, where they would remain for the next thirty days. To speed up the negotiations, Daniel had proposed a thirty-day grace period during which KaneWeller could back out of the deal with sufficient cause, namely the discovery of any material misrepresentation of the facts by Fielder & Company. Daniel didn’t expect any problems since KaneWeller wasn’t looking for a way out. Wilson hoped he was right.
Less than forty-five minutes after they’d sat down at the boardroom table, Marshal Winthorpe and Wilson Fielder stood, shook hands, and congratulated each other. KaneWeller’s acquisition of his father’s eighty-two percent ownership of Fielder & Company had been consummated, at least provisionally. As the hand shaking and congratulations extended to the others in the boardroom, staffers from Daniel’s law firm brought in the traditional cigars and whiskey—Bolivar Corona Gigantes and Chivas Regal Royal Salute. An hour later, only Daniel and Wilson were left in the boardroom.
“I’m glad that’s completed,” Daniel said.
“You’re worried, aren’t you?”
Daniel gazed at Wilson for a prolonged moment. “Just glad there were no last minute surprises. Now we can accelerate the rest of the liquidation.”
“What else?”
“We have about seventy percent of your father’s stock positions and investment partnerships left to monetize.”
“No. I mean what else is bothering you? You said we’d talk about it after the signing,” Wilson said.
“Nothing that time won’t resolve,” Daniel said as he began picking up the documents from the conference table.
Wilson’s frustration was rising. He placed his hand on Daniel’s arm to stop his busywork. “I need to know what else is going on, Daniel.”
Daniel glared at Wilson before responding. “I’m concerned about the mounting surveillance,” he said abruptly and then returned to picking up papers.
This time Wilson grabbed Daniel’s arm. The jolt sent some of the papers sliding across the table and onto the floor. “Goddammit. What aren’t you telling me?” Wilson demanded.
“We didn’t expect this level of surveillance,” Daniel said, his eyes like pinwheels. “The number of people, the equipment, it’s more than we…”
“Where are they?”
“One of their locations is across the street from your family’s home on Brattle Street, on the top floor…”
“The Broadhead place? They wouldn’t…”
“The Broadheads don’t know about it. They’re in the Bahamas for four more weeks. Looks like the graduate student taking care of the house in their absence couldn’t resist the opportunity to make some extra cash. He’s temporarily moved into a bedroom in the basement.”
“How many people?”
“More than a dozen—four at the Broadhead house.”
“What kind of equipment?”
“Everything. Remote listening devices, motion-sensitive cameras, scanners that identify phone numbers and email addresses, car tracking satellite systems … you name it, they’ve got it.”
“Our security service hasn’t reported anything unusual,”
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