Kiss and Tell (18 page)

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Jack said as he took off at a trot, Harry abreast of him.

Dennis huffed and puffed as he struggled to keep up. He felt giddy that he was included in what was about to be, he knew in his gut, a life-altering mission of some kind.

Not only that, but he was going to get to pay the bill with his brand-new
Post
expense credit card. How neat was that? Pretty darn neat, he decided. He was almost positive he was now officially one of the guys.

A
dam Macklin looked at the old-fashioned clock hanging on the wall. He was two hours late. The first time he'd been late in years and years. Normally, he was at his desk at the crack of dawn. He grimaced as he shrugged out of his heavy coat and muffler to hang them on a coat-tree by the office door. He carried his bagel, two containers of coffee, and a sticky bun over to his desk. He looked at the pile of mail sitting on the corner of his desk. Unopened mail that had accumulated over the past week. Right next to the pile of mail was a stack of pink phone-message slips. Calls that needed to be returned. Well, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. At least not by him.

Adam tore into his bagel, which was loaded with scallion cream cheese, twice toasted, along with butter under the cheese. He propped his feet up on the scarred old desk and sipped at his coffee. The beginning of the end. Everything was coming to an end, even his relationship with Caroline. He regretted that his girlfriend had returned to her family in Alabama. She said the relationship was no longer working for her. He finished his bagel and ripped into the sticky bun. He let his mind wander backward in time to the days when his mother used to make pancakes in cartoon shapes for him and his sister. Sometimes they were action-figure pancakes, sometimes just shapes of things like trees and squirrels—anything that he and Ava liked. The butter was always soft, and the banana syrup always warm. He closed his eyes and could almost taste those pancakes. Then she'd bundle him and Ava up for school and hand them their lunches. They were the best lunches, the crust cut off the bread, a fat sugar cookie, and a bright, shiny red apple. Then she'd give them each a hug, tell them she loved them, and to have a good day. He could feel the warm hug. God, how he missed that.

Adam was wadding up the remnants of his breakfast when the door to the office opened. He looked up and wasn't surprised to see his father standing in the doorway. He looked like a huge white bear. Adam could feel his insides turn to jelly. He tossed the paper sack into the trash can, drained the last of the coffee, headed to the coatrack, and shrugged into his heavy coat. He settled his backpack on his shoulders and then shrugged until the pack settled comfortably on his back. His entire life was inside the backpack.

“Where are you going, Adam?”

“Guess!” Adam snapped.

“I'm not in the mood for games.”

“Me either. You might want to check the mail and those pink slips. It's over, Pop. There are a lot of people out there who are requesting an audience with you. Like, for instance, the FBI, the SEC, and those holy-terror lawyers of yours. Out of some misguided sense of loyalty, I've been telling people you're in England. You're on your own now. I'm done. In case you aren't getting it, we're dead. They just haven't embalmed us.”

“We're not dead. I'm about to sign up WELMED. That will keep us going for years to come. You didn't answer my question. Where are you going?”

“I'm going to see Mom. I called Ava and I'm going to ask her if she wants to go with me. I'm going to pick her up at the airport. I called her to tell her to come here today. If she doesn't want to go with me, I'll drop her off here, and you two can decide what you're going to do until the embalming starts.”

“Oh no, you are not. You are going to stay right here and take care of business.”

“Wrong, Pop. And I don't give a good rat's ass about WELMED or anything else. And when things come crashing down, I'm going to man up and take my punishment. If I'm lucky, they might let me cut a deal. I hired my own lawyer. I can't speak for Ava, but if I were you, I'd definitely prepare myself for the worst.”

“What the hell do you think your mother is going to do for you?”

Adam walked back into the room and towered over his father. They were so close he could smell his father's coffee breath. “I don't know, Pop. I'm hoping she'll give me a hug. I don't deserve anything more.”

“So, just like that, you're bailing out?”

“Yep! You win a gold star for getting it. Congratulations.”

“How can you do this to me?” Manny barked. “How?”

“It's really quite simple, Pop. I finally figured it all out. All I have to do is walk out the door and wait for whatever happens next.” Adam whirled around and headed out the door. The last thing he heard was his father calling him an ungrateful bastard. Well, that, at least, was true. Probably one of the only things his father had said in years that was.

Manny Macklin stood as though rooted to the floor. He blinked. Then he shook his shaggy head. Was this a bad dream? Or had this really just happened? He yanked out his cell phone and punched in his daughter's number. When his call went straight to voice mail, he knew in his gut that his son had told him the truth.

Manny sat down in his son's chair and looked at the pile of mail and the stack of pink slips. He poked at them. Adam was right. He looked through the pink slips and saw six of them were from his lawyers. It was a place to start. He punched in the number, identified himself, and then waited for Asa Bellamy to come on the line.

Manny steeled himself for what was to come. “I'm in the middle of a deposition, Manny. I'll be tied up for the next two hours. When I walk out of here, I expect you to be sitting in my waiting room. If you aren't there, then you will need to engage a new firm to handle your affairs. Are we clear on this, Manny?”

Manny's first inclination was to bluster, but he knew that would get him nowhere. “I'll be there, Asa.”

Now what? Should he just walk out the door the way Adam had? Should he go back to Olympic Ridge and wait to be taken into custody? Or . . . did he hang in and close the WELMED deal? Or did he call his pilot and arrange for a flight to Europe?

Manny leaned back and closed his eyes as his mind whirled and twirled with scenario after scenario playing out behind his closed lids.

A long time later, he opened his eyes and looked up at the clock. Fifteen minutes past noon. His cell phone buzzed. He brought it to his ear and listened to Dennis West's voice. He sat up straighter. The answer to his dilemma. “Of course, young man, I think that will work. I look forward to it. You say you'll pick me up? Fine, fine. Tomorrow at six o'clock. Yes, yes, I understand I am to bring all the papers for you to sign should your aunts give their approval. By the way, young man, I need to thank you because I am not worth much in the kitchen. I don't think I could make an edible meat loaf if my life depended on it. Stay warm, young man.”

Manny jammed his phone back into his pocket. He smacked his hands together in jubilation. Maybe he wouldn't need his pilot after all. He heaved himself up and out of the chair. He might as well head over to Asa's office. Sometimes, and this was one of those times, it would pay to be early.

 

 

The decibel level at the Squire's Pub wound down as the late lunch crowd departed the premises. Ensconced in one of the private rooms in the back, Jack held court. They were drinking coffee, cup after cup, and they were all wired to the hilt, Dennis thought. He'd thought they would be drinking beer, but no, they were here to come to terms with what had to be done. He was dizzy with the ideas he was hearing. He'd taken only one break, to call Myra and Annie and suggest they prepare dinner tomorrow night for one Mr. Emanuel Macklin. All he had to say was, “This way you get him in your clutches, and you won't have to stalk him and worry about what to do with him.” Both women agreed instantly. When he returned to the private room and informed the group what he'd just done, he was slapped on the back and congratulated.

“Well, now, that takes us out of the locker room and puts us onto the playing field,” Ted said. “Let's kick this around and see what we come up with. Abner, do you have anything else?”

“I can't remember what all I've said so far. If I covered this, stop me. Some of the foundations that invested with Macklin are going belly-up. This is really important. For every billion dollars in foundation investments, Macklin was on the hook for around $80 million a year. If he wasn't making real investments, he could make the principal last somewhere around fifteen to twenty years, depending upon what he was earning in treasury bonds. By going after the charities, Macklin could avoid some knee-jerk withdrawals and not get caught with his pants down.

“From what I can figure out, the guy has something like thirty-five hundred investors and close to twelve thousand separate accounts. I can't keep this all straight anymore. His clients include hedge funds, banks, universities, wealthy individuals, movie stars. That's where I got my information when I started hacking. Macklin has no personal electronic trail to follow. It's like you open a box to find another box inside, then another one, and after that still one more. If I'm going nuts doing what I'm doing, you have to ask yourself how the hell that guy was and is keeping it straight. I simply cannot fathom how he has kept this scheme going all these years and not gotten caught. It's not only mind numbing, it is unbelievable that anything like this could happen in the first place.”

An hour later, the little group dispersed, each of them going his own separate way, their thoughts all on the same plane.

 

 

Adam Macklin stood leaning against the wall as deplaning passengers found their way down the concourse at Reagan National. He saw his sister immediately; she was hard to miss. She looked like a runway model in her designer coat trimmed in mink, spike-heeled boots, and a Chanel bag that cost what a family of three could live on for two months. At one time she had been pretty, but now she appeared like a mannequin that had been dipped in a vat of shellac.

The minute she came abreast of him, Ava began to speak without breaking stride. “What's with you, Adam? This is the last time I'm listening to you. Why do I always have to come here? Why can't you come to New York? What's so damn important that this meeting had to be face-to-face? Why couldn't you just call me on the telephone? What's got your knickers in a knot this time? Don't tell me you and Daddy are at it again. I don't want to hear it. Start talking, Adam, or I'm going to turn around and leave,” she said, as they walked outside to the short-term lot.

“Do you ever just talk, Ava? What happened to ‘hello, Adam, how are you?' All you do is bitch, moan, and groan. And when you aren't doing that, you're complaining about something or other. Do you ever say anything nice or kind to anyone? Do you ever smile? Ooops, guess not, I forgot, the Botox won't allow it. By the way, you look like shit.”

“Aren't you the little ray of sunshine this morning. If picking me up was such a chore—and might I remind you, you're the one who engineered this meeting—you could have sent a car service. Where's the car?”

“Two aisles over,” Adam said through clenched teeth.

“You're still driving that hunk of junk? It has to be at least ten years old. Does it run?”

“It's twelve years old, and yes, it runs. Get in and shut up, Ava. Already I'm sick of listening to you.”

“Does the heater work?”

“Of course it works. I keep the car maintained. And don't even think about lighting a cigarette.”

“All right, all right. Now, will you please tell me what is so hellfire important that you made me come down to Washington? I'm sick of holding your hand, Adam. Let's get on with it.”

“I quit this morning. I already told Pop when he came to the office earlier. I'm out. It's just you and him now.”

Ava turned sideways on her seat so she could see her brother better. “Are you serious? Why?”

“You can't be that stupid, Ava. You know why. You guys can fight it out with the SEC and the FBI. Not me. They're closing in. I've been warning you both. Did you listen? No, you did not.

“When I told Pop this morning, all he could say was that he had this big deal cooking, that he was going to sign on WELMED. I do not care. You can't fix this. I'm going to turn myself in and admit to my part in this whole mess. It's over, Ava. It's all going to come crashing down.”

“Are you crazy? Pop never said a word. Are you on some kind of dope or something? He would have told me,” she said, but her expression clearly didn't match her words. Adam got a perverse sense of pleasure out of seeing the panic on his sister's face.

Adam took his eyes off the road long enough to look at his sister. For all her bluster, he could see the fear in her eyes.

“So when did Pop ever say a word about anything? He thinks he's God. He's the damn devil, Ava. And we were his disciples. Well, not anymore. I'm out. I'm dropping you off at the office, and after that, we're done. I only picked you up because I said I would, and I try never to break a promise.”

“How damn noble of you, Adam. You have me spooked now. What brought all this on?” she asked tightly, as Adam expertly maneuvered the car out of the lot, onto an exit ramp, and out to the secondary road that would lead him to the main highway. It was still flurrying. God, would this winter ever end?

“Calls and letters from the SEC. Rumor has it the FBI is on Pop's trail. More than one disgruntled investor has filed complaints with them. They are finally beginning to take this seriously, Ava.”

“Complaints have been coming in for years. What makes this time any different?”

“Pop has stopped paying the small investor. And you're the goddamn chief compliance officer. I had to stop answering the phones. Everyone was calling and threatening me. Me? Are you telling me you don't know what's going on? That's bullshit, Ava.”

Ava inched her way over to the corner of her seat and leaned against the passenger-side door. She closed her eyes, and the rest of the trip was made in silence.

Forty minutes later, Adam said, “Okay, we're here. Pop was in the office when I left to pick you up. I don't know if he's still there or not. If he left, call him. From here on in, you two are on your own.”