Homecoming (27 page)
“Why?” Russell asked, suspiciously.
“Er…” Federica thought fast. “You’re not looking well, Russell. It’s…easier to get out from here,” she said delicately, “in case you need to…um…”
It made perfect sense to him. Russell slumped heavily into the chair, just a few feet from the front row of the public area, where Ellen and Newton sat alone. He looked around the room out of hostile, red-rimmed eyes. “How long is this going to take?” He rubbed his forehead. “I can’t wait to get out of here. I hate small towns.”
Federica patted his hand. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It’ll be over soon.”
She looked at Jack, trying not to smile at him, and nodded. He brought his gavel down with a loud crack and Russell jumped, then groaned.
The door to the meeting room opened, and Horace Milton hobbled in. He made his way down the aisle and sat down next to Ellen and Newton. His wide grin showed the black stubs of teeth clamped down on his usual unlit cigar.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Jack said cheerfully. “We’d like to call the meeting to order, on this bright and sunny day, the 8th of June, 2005. We are all refreshed after the lovely evening offered to the Town Council by Stella last night and let the record show that the Town Council of Carson’s Bluff is grateful to her for her hospitality.” He brought the gavel down sharply.
“Hear, hear!” Horace Milton banged heavily and enthusiastically on the floor with his cane. Shouts and whistles erupted in the room. Russell slumped further down in his chair, a hand shading his eyes.
It took a long time for the noise to die down. When it did, Jack proceeded to read, slowly and with great emphasis, the proceedings of the day before, verbatim. He eyed Russell and read out, even more slowly, the relevant portions of the California property laws. Russell sat in his chair as if he were nailed to it. Jack started to read out the Carson’s Bluff Town Council regulations and nodded at Horace.
With a flourish, Horace brought out an ancient lighter, lit his cigar and started puffing contentedly. Soon his head was wreathed in a noxious black cloud. He blew a long stream of smoke straight ahead and Russell swallowed heavily and scowled at him. Horace smiled happily and blew another stream of smoke. Russell suddenly stood up.
“Federica,” he asked urgently, “where’s—”
“Turn right outside the door,” she replied, as he pushed his chair hastily back, “third door to your left. It says ‘Gentlemen’ on the door.”
“But that’s all right, Russell,” Ellen called after him as he stumbled down the aisle. “You can use it anyway.”
Russell slammed the door closed and there was silence for a long minute.
Federica leaned forward into the microphone. “I think, Mr. Mayor, that we are going to have to suspend proceedings. I’m afraid that something has…er…come up.”
Jack ran his hands through his hair. “Whew,” he said in relief. “For a moment there, I thought I was going to have to recite the Gettysburg Address.”
Federica waited outside the men’s room with a satchel in her hand.
The door opened and closed and a pale Russell leaned against it. “God,” he said shakily, shutting his eyes. “I
hate
small towns.”
Federica almost felt pity for Russell until she thought of the tomato patch.
This one’s for you, Mr. Giannini
, she thought.
“Listen, Russell.” Federica touched his arm gently. “You’re not looking at all well. Why don’t you go back to San Francisco and let me deal with this? I’ve got my instructions and it shouldn’t take too long.”
Russell opened his eyes. “You think so?”
“Of course, Russell,” she said sweetly. “You leave it all to me.”
“Well.” Russell loosened his shirt collar. “Actually, I really don’t feel well.”
Federica beckoned to Newton, who was waiting in the corridor.
“Must be the flu,” she said. “There’s an awful one going ’round. Now don’t worry about a thing.” She patted his arm. “I’ll wrap it up in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Thanks, Federica,” Russell said gratefully. “I’ll owe you one.” Newton appeared and Federica nodded to him.
“Newton, please drive Mr. White to his home. He’s not feeling well.”
“Sure thing, Miss Federica.” Newton offered Russell his arm, which he took gratefully.
“You’re sure?” Russell stopped and put a hand to his stomach. “Maybe I could—”
“I’m sure Russell,” Federica said firmly. “Now go on home and don’t worry about a thing.”
The two men walked slowly down the corridor, Russell walking very carefully. Federica sincerely hoped that Russell could make this a learning experience. But she doubted it.
“Oh, and Newton?” Federica called.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Make sure you drive straight back. We’ll be needing…sustenance.”
Newton grinned. “
Yes, ma’am
.”
As soon as they were out of sight, Federica rushed into the ladies’ room and started stripping. She stuffed the little black designer suit, which cost more than Jack earned in two months, into a paper bag and knew, without a shred of regret, that it would probably be the last designer outfit she would ever wear in her lifetime. Hurriedly, she put on jeans, a T-shirt and slipped into her floral sneakers. It felt wonderful.
“Okay, gang.” Federica paced back and forth in the spacious room in back of Stella’s. There were two big tables with two laptops and two big wall clocks hung on the stuccoed wall, just as she’d asked. One clock showed the correct time. The other ran seven hours behind.
Federica looked at her audience. Jack, Wyatt, Lilly and Norman were sitting in chairs, watching her expectantly. Ellen sat quietly in the back of the room.
Federica wondered if this was how Eisenhower felt on D-Day. Maybe she should be dressed in battle fatigues and carrying a baton.
“The plan is this. Mansion Enterprises wants the Folly. But it wants the Folly for specific economic reasons, not sentimental ones, which gives us a weapon we can use. As a matter of fact, it’s the only weapon we have at our disposal, and we’ll have to use it to the fullest.” She glanced up at the clock behind her. It was noon. “In three hours, it will be eight o’clock in the morning in Tokyo. Norman and I are going to pretend that a Japanese corporation wants to buy the Folly and is engaging Mansion Enterprises in a bidding war which will escalate to the point at which Mansion Enterprises will be forced to give up, because what they will have to pay for the Folly will outweigh the benefits. But it’s going to be tricky for two reasons. Firstly, because the bids coming from Tokyo will have to be very carefully calculated to make sure they’re plausible. A sudden offer of a zillion dollars would just make them suspicious. Secondly, because we’re going to have to move so fast Mansion Enterprises won’t have time to send someone up here.” Federica put her hands behind her back and felt like George C. Scott in
Patton
. “Any questions, troops?”
“It’s not going to work, Federica,” Norman said wearily.
“What?” She expected anything but this. “But Norman, I told you last night—”
Norman pushed his glasses up. “I was up half the night looking up the law, Federica. If Mansion Enterprises really wants to play hardball, they have the right to ask for proof of serious intent. In other words, they have the right to ask to see proof that the money being bid is actually there. It’s a nasty trick that is seldom pulled, but it’s possible. How nasty is Mansion Enterprises?”
“Very.” Federica stood still, her mind racing. “What exactly constitutes proof of serious intent?” she asked slowly.
“Well, the law’s not very specific. It’s just a way of asking for surety that the opposite partner in a bidding war is serious. I suppose you could present a deed of ownership of property worth that amount. Stocks, bonds.” He shrugged. “Anything, really, would do. But we’re talking millions of dollars here, Federica. No one has anything like that amount of money. If they ask for surety and it’s not presented, we could all be sued for fraudulent business practice, which is a felony. Would they do that?”
“Yes.” Federica said grimly. “They most certainly would.”
Jack, Wyatt and Lilly all started talking at once.
“What are we—”
“Maybe we should give up—”
“Damned if we give up. Before I do that I’d—”
“Wait!” Federica held up her hand for silence. Everyone looked at her expectantly. “Wait.” She paced back and forth, thinking furiously. It was a gamble…but maybe it would work.
“Norman, what about a bank account?”
“A what?”
“A bank account. Suppose the deposit in a bank account were to be temporarily transferred to an account opened in a fictitious name. Just for a day, say, just long enough to get a bank statement. Would that be considered surety?”
“Well,” Norman fingered his beard. “I guess so. But we’re talking about a lot of money. Who has that kind of money in an account?”
“Me.” Federica’s quiet statement fell into the room like a pebble into a pool of water. There were ripples.
“Millions?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered quietly.
“How much?”
Federica hesitated. “Let’s just say it should be…enough.”
“That’s not all, Federica,” Norman said glumly.
“More bad news?”
He nodded. “The law says that…” He paused.
Federica was silent for a moment. “What, Norman?” she asked gently.
Norman sighed. “According to the law, the person or persons posting bond must then prove that they have actually made the purchase.”
Jack sat up. “That means—”
“Yes.” Norman looked at Federica. “It means that if things go badly, then Mansion Enterprises can force their competitor in a bidding war—in this case Federica—to prove that she purchased the Folly, or be accused of fraudulent practice. In other words, the Town Council would be legally obliged to force Federica to spend every penny she owns to buy a moth-eaten—”
“—termite-infested,” said Wyatt.
“—drafty old house in the hills,” finished Norman. “And she can’t buy it for a penny less than the final bidding price. Are you prepared to do that, Federica? Are you prepared to have to wipe out your bank account? Lose every cent you own?”
“I don’t know what to do,” Federica whispered. “Norman?”
Norman stared at his clasped hands, then raised troubled eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t advise you, Federica.”
“Lilly?”
Federica felt her heart plummet as Lilly slowly shook her head.
“Jack?”
He was watching her out of somber eyes. “It’s your call, honey,” he said finally.
Federica felt a wild fluttering in her chest. She wiped damp palms on her jeans. If things went badly she’d lose…everything.
“Okay,” she said. “This is what we’re going to do. Norman and I are going to work out a plausible first bid, ready to send when it’s 8:00 a.m. Tokyo time. Jack, Wyatt, would you please go up to the Folly and get some of my things? And someone’s going to have to see about food. I have a funny feeling we’re going to be bunking here. Lilly, you’re going to have to lend me Norman for the duration and he’s going to have to fall off the wagon. Sorry.”
“Cold turkey when this is over, Norman,” Lilly warned. “You’re not touching your computer for a solid month.”
“What can I do, Federica?” Ellen asked quietly.
“Here.” Federica rummaged in her satchel and brought out the paper bag with the crumpled suit. “Burn this for me, would you?”
EMAIL FROM: [email protected]
Paul,
I sent Russell White home, since he was feeling ill. There was no problem at the time, because negotiations were just about terminated and there were only a few formalities to take care of. But something serious has come up at the last minute.
I know Uncle Frederick is in Prague but we have to move very fast on this one, so I guess you should lead negotiations on your end.
A Japanese corporation, a large one, has put in a bid for Lot 448. I was able to get the price the Japanese are offering, which is $700,000 more than our own top offer, for a total of $3.7 million dollars. What do we do? The Carson’s Bluff Town Council is now locked in discussions with the Japanese and I’m told the signing of the deal is imminent. I’ll await instructions.
Federica
“Well,” Federica said, sitting back. “Now all we can do is wait it out.”
Jack looked at the computer screen, a big hand resting on her shoulder. He put a cup of steaming coffee down beside the laptop.
“I thought your top offer was $4 million.”
Federica looked up and gave a weak smile. “I lied.”
He squeezed her shoulder and said nothing.
Stella prepared a light lunch, but Norman and Federica didn’t eat. They spent their time hunched over the computer screens, going over different scenarios.
At 5:00 p.m., Federica’s you’ve-got-mail tone sounded.
“Here we go,” she said.
