Serializing a new novel.
Chapter 11: New York April 2001
Crooks plotted to get rid of the couple who own a large
supermarket corporation. Their son and heir fled to
Jerusalem, and the owners disappeared in the tropics. The
plotters are discussing their plot and trying to move ahead.
Their goal is to merge their supermarket corporation with the
company of the Bartons, the missing owners.
*
"You sure this is the right way to go about things?" the
paunchy middle-aged man said.
"Listen, what options do we have? Soon they will be looking
at our accounts. What then? No, this merger is essential. We
have invested a lot in it. We paid that Fred Smith to make
the couple disappear in Brazil. Now we have to finalize
things." The man was tall and well built. He spoke with an
air of authority.
However, the short man was not about to give in without an
argument. "Listen, its true that they didn't come back from
Brazil, but have you seen anything in the newspapers saying
so? Maybe the guy, Fred, isn't leveling with us. Maybe they
are back."
"No, I've checked up on that. They didn't come back. The
board decided to keep quiet about it to protect the
shares."
"But this guy Fred Smith — part of the contract was
that he too should be wiped out, publicly, in a shoot-out at
the apartment. Only he didn't go to the apartment and now no
one knows where he is. The youngster, the couple's boy
— What's his name? . . . Dean Barton? — he should
have been killed also at the mock shoot-out. Where is he? No
one knows. I don't like it I tell you. They could all be
here, just waiting for us to show our hand. What then?"
There was a long silence. Then the big man spoke again, in a
soft cajoling way.
"Listen, what choice do we have? Besides, I gave the money.
The guy is reliable. You know his reputation. He assures me
he will track down those two young men and finish the job. We
must just carry on with the plan."
The short man made one last attempt. "But we don't even have
the share certificates. They were supposed to be in the
apartment and they weren't there."
"I've got something better. I have a signed agreement to the
merger, dated from before they left from Brazil. Nice job
young Fred did. It looks just like the real thing."
They were traveling in a large limousine, screened from the
driver by a soundproof glass panel. Now the driver stopped
and opened the panel. "That's it over there, the address you
gave me."
The two men got out of the car and looked at the modest
brownstone buildings. "Hey, get this. The lawyer's office is
here. You would have thought that such a big-shot owner of a
chain of supermarkets would go to a better lot of people than
this," said the tall man.
"I don't know. My Ma taught me not to judge a book by its
cover. It doesn't do to underestimate the opposition," was
the response.
"Listen. I told you already, we have that letter agreeing to
the merger. I got that guy, that assistant Fred, to write it
for us before he left for Brazil. He couldn't understand why
we wanted it then, and said he would write it when he got
back. Just as well we got it then, what with him disappearing
like that. He got the signature down to a fine art. Can't
tell the difference no matter how hard you look."
"But like I said, we don't have the share certificates. We
don't know where the son is. Maybe responsibility for the
firm has passed to him. Maybe only he can sign an agreement
to a merger."
"No. Not correct. I went over all this with top lawyers. They
work in big fancy buildings, not like this dump. If the
agreement was signed before they went away, it stands. We
dated it the day before they left. It will be fine. It has to
be fine. If we don't merge they will soon discover the money
that we took from our company. We don't want that now, do we?
Now let's stop talking here on the sidewalk and go in and get
this thing done."
The two men knocked and the door was opened. They were led in
through a long passage to a room near the back overlooking a
small patch of lawn.
"Nice place you got here." said one man.
"Not fancy, but nice," said the other.
"Thanks. We like it. You said you wanted to deal with matters
left unfinished by my client. You said he signed some papers
before he left for Brazil. Why have you left this until
now?"
"You know, I was hoping for a miracle or something. Such a
nice guy. A hard man to do business with, but still a nice
guy. I just kept hoping that it was a mistake, I kept hoping
he would come back and explain why that three million was
missing from the company accounts. Here, look; this is the
agreement he signed. It looks like we'll have to go ahead
without him."
The reaction was not the expected one. The man sitting on the
other side of the desk abruptly got up and said, "Just going
to photocopy this. I'll be right back."
He returned some minutes later and handed the original back.
"Good of you to call. We'll be in touch."
His words were courteous, but his look was hostile.
Outside again, the two men walked in silence to the corner.
Their driver was waiting for them. They got into the car and
it pulled smoothly away from the curb. The short man was
sweating heavily. He mopped his brow. He began to speak in
short staccato tones.
"Something was wrong. I don't know what. But something, that
guy didn't like."
"Oh, don't go on like that. He's a lawyer. That's the way
they work. The letter is OK." But his voice lacked the
confident tone of his earlier statements.
The man beside him noticed there was some wavering and
pressed home his point of view more forcefully. "No, you're
wrong. I'm sure of it. Didn't you see the look he gave us? He
suspects something, but I don't know why or what. I reckon
its time to cut our losses and clear out. Most of the money
we spent, but some of it is left. There's enough to live on
if we go abroad. I tell you I don't like it. Too many things
aren't going the way we planned."
