Chapter Five

 

Nadine looked at her cell phone.  She saw it was her younger brother calling.  Good ole’ Dylan. Poor simple Dylan.

 

When they were kids, he would always be at her side.  He even tried to fight some bigger boys one time when he thought she needed defending. But she hadn’t needed defending. Far from it. In fact, just the opposite, but he didn’t know that, and he had tried to fight them, and she thought him a dear for trying. When he wasn’t looking, she had winked and smiled at the three boys, so they would know not to tell him what they had actually been doing. And she hugged and thanked Dylan for rescuing her.  She still thought him a sweet boy.

 

Nadine knew Dylan would never last in the business world.  But she had resolved that once she took over, she would take care of him. Make sure he had a place to stay after she figured out how to get rid of that monstrosity of a house where he and their father lived.  Where she and her brothers grew up.  She hated that house.  And the market was strong right now.  It would bring in a tidy sum.  She would provide Dylan an apartment at one of their city properties.  He could putter around with his college courses and, if he stayed out the way, she would insure provision would be made for his simple needs.  Well, as long as he didn’t bring home some little coed slut looking to wiggle her way into the family business.  And fortune. There would have to be a few rules concerning such matters for dear brother Dylan.

 

But right now, Nadine didn’t have the time or inclination to take his call.  He could wait.  Her destination was her new lawyer’s office.

 

She crossed the impressively ornate lobby and stopped at the receptionist desk.  Waiting for the honeyed lacquered blonde to get off the phone, she studied the directory of offices on the wall behind her.  Many of the names were accompanied with the legend “Attorney at Law.”  She realized that they must all share the costs of the building and common staff like this big-breasted slut with the Botox lips hanging up the phone.

 

“May I help you?”

 

“I am here to see Mr. Oswald in a . . .” and she looked on the board behind the blonde, “room 413.”

 

“And do you have an appointment?”

 

“I do. Please announce me.” And with that she turned her back and walked toward the elevators.  Nadine smiled knowing the blonde was staring daggers at her back. She heard the woman push a button though and speak softly into a receiver.  No doubt saying a real bitch was on her way up to the fourth floor. “That’s true enough,” thought Nadine.

 

When she got to Room 413, she walked into the suite of offices like she owned the place.  Yet another blonde was waiting.  Standing next to her desk.

 

“Ms. King, Mr. Oswald is waiting for you.  You may go right in. This way.”  And she pointed with her hand upturned toward an open doorway.

 

Nadine didn’t bother to acknowledge the second blonde and just walked right by her into the office and stopped before a massive oak desk.  Sitting behind it was a big armed lawyer in shirt sleeves and dark brown suspenders. She heard the door being softly closed behind her.  No doubt in a minute all the harpies in the building would know the new bitch had reached her destination, the inner sanctum.

 

She liked how the lawyer quickly examined her body, looked her up and down before he motioned for her to have a seat in one of the client chairs.   Unlike the heavy leather ones at her father’s lawyer’s office, these were more spartan, functional, not designed for a client to feel comfortable, wallowing around, spending an inordinate amount of unbillable time.

 

She sat and crossed her legs.  She noted he looked.  He smiled. She smiled. There was a pause. Neither said anything.

 

They were playing the game. Nadine knew all about such meetings. Ironically, she had learned their intricacies from her father.  Whoever spoke first would concede initial control.  The other person could sit back and decide on a strategy for responding depending on what was said and how it was said.  They both recognized that was how criminal enterprises, secret conspiracies, were joined though each would have called it something different.

 

Nadine felt she had the keys to the proverbial castle, the leverage, so she waited him out.

 

“How may I be of assistance, Ms. . .  ah, King,” he said, ruffling papers in front of him as if looking for her name.  This last was for effect.  He was obviously trying to retain some semblance of control.  Nadine was no novice.  She waited a few moments longer letting the question he had been forced to ask hang in the air without condescending to answer it until she was good and ready.

 

“Well, I was told, . . .uh,” and she reached across and took one of his business cards from the deep red plastic card holder at the side table next to her chair.  Perusing it a minute she read his name out loud, looking at him as if trying to match the face with the name on the card, “uh, Mr. Oswald is it?  Mr. Edmund Oswald?  Well, I was told you were a “well to do” lawyer, although I must say, your surroundings certainly don’t communicate success.  These chairs are decidedly uncomfortable.”

 

With that she stood up and strolled over to the wall to inspect his certificates and diplomas.

 

If her dig got to him he didn’t show it. But now she was standing, and he was forced to look up at her from an inferior position.  He realized what she had done.

 

“Well, I do my best for my clients.  It’s their wealth, uh, their justice I seek to preserve.  I’m not that interested in outward shows of ostentation.  And if I may, please, Ms. King, how can I be of assistance?  I have many clients to see today.”

 

“Really?  I saw no one in your reception room. I must have just beaten the crowd getting here.  How fortunate.”

 

His mouth tightened.

 

She did think the bit about enriching the clients was pretty good.  This guy might work out.

 

“Please, Ms. King.  What can I do for you?”  He was worn down.  Time to get to it.

 

Okay, she thought, we both know who is the boss here.

 

“You familiar with an attorney by the name of, uh, Easley?”

 

He didn’t reply so she turned to look at him. He was staring at her and she could tell his mind was working. Getting involved in a case in which another lawyer was already involved made him cautious.

 

“I know ——Easley.”

 

“Do you think he’s a good lawyer?”

 

The hair on the back of Oswald’s neck prickled a little.  There were ethical rules to be careful with here.  He could be accused of interfering in an attorney-client relationship and that was something the State Bar didn’t take lightly.  Stealing clients (and their fees) from another lawyer got the attention of the ethics committee much more than overcharging, even bilking, one’s own clients.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t comment on the competence of an attorney without some knowledge of the complaint.”

 

Nadine figured it was time to put him on the dime.

 

“Well, can you beat him?”

 

He didn’t answer.

 

“Because Mr. Oswald,” she continued, “I want you to beat him and beat him bad.  There is a lot of money involved and I want to see you handsomely paid for beating that old fool.”

 

Edmund Oswald smiled. Now this is the kind of client that makes the practice of law such fun.  And rewarding.

 

“Please sit down, Ms. King.  Let’s get to know each other better.  I’m sure I can be of assistance.”

 

Chapter Six

 

A week later, Lenny King woke up in “The Mood.”  His “take charge” mood.  His favorite mood to be in.  Didn’t happen every day like it used to, but this morning he felt the old drive.  He drove to his corporate headquarters.  It was a plush building, ornate, its style suggestive of the last century’s architecture though it was less than a decade old.  It occupied most of the block just north of the city square.  Prime real estate.  It perfectly matched what he considered his style.  Impressive at first sight.

 

He was justifiably proud of its edifice.  It was dominated by twin towers in the middle of the city.  The two towers were connected by a modern louvered structure. One entire side of the middle building was mirrored with windows that darkened automatically on especially bright days, but still preserved the magnificent view of the Sierra foothills for the denizens at work in the building, busily making Lenny so much money. His people.  His staff.  He was sure they were all assiduously working.  Improving the products that carried the corporate brand. Inventing new ones. Pushing the edge of innovation before the competition could catch up.  And constantly, continuously, working at cornering the market. Keeping his empire going.  His kingdom. They were his vassals.  Hell, he didn’t even know how many worked there anymore.

 

Like a King in his regal coach, he pulled into the underground parking garage and turned immediately left. Around a corner, he paused the car and hit a button on his dashboard.   It sent a signal to roll open a large steel reinforced door.  On the other side was his own private section of the garage. When the door pulled back, he eased his car through. He rolled to a stop and backed his car into a wide parking area directly across and facing three very expensive automobiles.   They were all vintage models he kept for a little variety.  And for show.

 

He sat and admired his Bentley, his Porsche and his favorite, the classic ‘56 Corvette convertible. The last had cost him more dearly than the other cars, but he had spent the money gladly.  It was worth it to have the rare gem which had been lovingly and meticulously restored.  An “off frame” restoration.  Every nut and bolt, every hose and piece of chrome removed, cleaned, replaced if necessary, and then carefully reassembled. The Corvette was much too valuable to drive on the street.  He did, however, take it to private meets and car shows from time to time and basked in the stares, the “oohs” and “ahs”. Lenny did enjoy the perks of being a king.

 

Lenny left the “Beemer” and as he walked by the Corvette he lightly touched the side just in front of the door handle for no other reason than the car was his possession.

 

As he approached an elevator door he heard a familiar click.  A camera with face recognition capability had sent a signal to the security computer that in turn sent another signal opening the door.  The elevator had only one button.  It took him directly to the top floor and opened.  He walked into a palatial apartment.  It had two bedrooms.  One for sleeping and one for recreation. This last he seldom used anymore.  Not after that last mess.   Attorney Easley had to work extra hard to get him out of that one.  Cost a lot of money to buy off that little bitch.  And almost as much to pay off her attorney. Well, his lawyer had warned him. And Lenny had, once again, ignored his advice.  Well, who wouldn’t?  Lenny smiled to himself.  She had been something.  Maybe not worth that much money, but dam near.

 

He walked over to the bar. A quick inventory confirmed it was fully stocked.  He thought for a moment and then poured himself a small dollop of his own brand of whiskey distilled specially for him in Scotland.  He held the drink up to admire its color in the expensive crystal tumbler.  One satisfying sip and he sat it down on the bar and left it.  That was enough.  He had never been much of a drinker.  The liquor, the crystal, the bar.   The trappings were what were important.   He liked his trappings.  The on-call butler would dispose of the abandoned cocktail later.  He crossed the apartment and hit a button and entered his business office from a door situated behind his gargantuan desk.

 

He took a moment to look around.  He noted with satisfaction that everything was shiny, clean and in place.   Even though he had not bothered to come to the office for two weeks.  The outer door opened and his secretary, a mousy and cockeyed middle-aged lady came through to offer her assistance and update him on any matter about which he might inquire.  She was very good at her job.  She was also very ugly, a quality that attorney Easley had insisted upon.  Being singularly unattractive was the point. After settling a significant amount of cash on his last “personal” secretary, well, no one would accuse him of messing with this one.

 

“Mr. King.  I have a few messages for you and can relay those if you choose.  They are on your daily calendar on the computer screen if you prefer to read them later.  There are two meetings of your Executive Council today, one in a half hour and the other at three this afternoon.  Should you choose to attend, the agendas are on your computer.”

 

She waited, with her fingers poised over her electronic notepad for any instructions or inquiries he cared to give or make.

 

“Thank you, Denise. I’m will be attending the first meeting. Tell them not to start until I’m there. That will be all.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Oh, and a cup of coffee, if you please.”

 

“Certainly.”

 

She crossed to the credenza where a fresh pot was brewed and placed in a carafe four times a day whether he was there or not.  She poured him a cup in a mug he preferred. It was emblazoned with the logo from the university where he served on the alumni board. She set it on his desk.  On a matching coaster.  He didn’t look up.  He just reached to where he knew it would be and opened his computer to read his messages and email.  She withdrew and closed the door quietly behind her.

 

He felt calmer now. He was in control again.  A slight, very slight, pang of guilt over his treatment of Dylan the day before was attempting to rise to the surface.  He didn’t exactly regret what he did.  He made it a policy never to apologize and certainly never to feel bad about what he said and did.  But he already had softened in his resolve to move the kid out.  He would deal with that later.  Dylan did love him.  And like his mother had before him, Dylan loved his father unconditionally.

 

Lenny knew that kind of love was what made it easy for him to abuse the kid.  Just as he had abused the mother.  Emotionally.   He had seldom resorted to physical violence.  Well, he did whip Dylan severely a few times, like he did Nadine and Regan, but only if they needed it.  No matter how much their mother had whined he knew it had been good for them. And, he had to admit, he had smacked Edna a couple of times, really just pushed, but only after he had a few drinks and her obsequiousness got under his skin. She had later agreed it was her fault entirely.

 

He decided he would go to the meeting of his Executives.  All the department heads would be there.  He would roust them a little.  Put the old fear in them about the bottom line.  Or maybe he would be gracious today and announce he was cutting back on his involvement, passing the baton to the next generation. He would be inspirational.

 

His intercom buzzed. The voice of Denise, his secretary, came on.  “Sir, Mr. Willets is here.  He asked to see you.”

 

Good old Willits. Well, he had a few minutes and the assholes who worked for him could wait.  He liked to keep them waiting sometimes anyway.  Other times he showed up to the meetings early to give them cold stares as they came through the door to the conference room. He would look at them like they were late.  He was going to miss all these little games he played on the staff.   It kept them sharp.  He was sure they would also miss his little tricks, what he called his leadership skills. He felt they appreciated his strength.  He was convinced they all loved him in their own way.

 

He figured without his strong leadership at the helm, the corporate ship would list about a bit before finding it’s bearings.  It would be good for all of them.

 

Willets sat down without being invited.  There was a comfortable familiarity between the two men born of their long history together.

 

In their younger days, when they were first getting started they had been equals.  No one considered them that anymore.  Willets had technical skills, he was good at making products work, good at taking ideas and making them into an actual physical object.  And the products worked, were reliable.  But King possessed the political skills and had taken operational control of the company long ago. The roles worked.  They had both profited handsomely from each other’s skill.  Because of their history together both men retained an outward patina of respect for the other and observed the protocols and deferrals of an equality between them though the equality was fictional.

 

The two men smiled at each other as they often did. It was a ritual recognition of their good fortune, the good fortune of being partners, a ritual they engaged in each time they met alone.  Before either could say anything, the intercom buzzed and his secretary announced that his son Dylan was calling.

 

Lenny was still feeling haughty, so he told her to tell him he was currently unavailable and to say it in those terms.  She replied, “Yes, sir” and buzzed off.

 

“Well, Willets, how long you going to stay with all this.  About time you cut back too, don’t you think?”

 

“Me?  Hell, Lenny, what would I do with my time? This is all I know.”

 

“Oh, you would figure it out soon enough, smart guy.”

 

“Yeah, Lenny, I’m smart. And I’m smart enough to tell my partner when he is royally screwing up.”

 

Lenny leaned back into the plush leather of his very expensive executive chair.  He didn’t like that last statement.  The directness of it shocked him a bit.  But he would be generous and patient with his old buddy. For a while at least.

 

“What’s got you all inflamed?  Who pissed you off, Partner?”

 

“This plan of yours.  It’s a cockamamie plan.  Foolish if you ask me.”

 

“What?”

 

“What?  Dividing up the company!  Talking about turning it over but keeping some control.  If there is one thing I have learned.  In business, at least the way you practice it, and the ways it’s set up around her, you can’t do that.  Either you are in charge or someone will take over for you and they will be in charge.”

 

There was an accusation hanging over this last statement.  Neither man wanted to get too far into it.  But the implication was that Willets had learned this lesson long ago.  Back when he had partial control of the company, he took the position that just partial control was all he wanted and would never want more than that.  It wasn’t long after that Lenny wrested complete control from him.

 

“Oh, come on Willets. These are my own kids.  My blood. And you and Crabtree are my partners, through thick and thin.  Years and decades.  Well not Crabtree.  But long enough.  How long has it been?  Hell, I don’t even know anymore.  What’s it matter anyway?  There is a love between all of us that nothing can put asunder.  I will put my trust in that.”

 

“No, you come on! Once you transfer authority you really think all that will matter.  This company is like you always liked to say it is, a kingdom and a very rich one at that. You yourself have preached against giving credence to any promise, to any future guarantees when money, real money was involved.  And you are going to split it all up?”

 

“Being a little dramatic aren’t we Willets?  What are you worrying about anyway, you are well taken care of. You will still retain your little fiefdom.”

 

Lenny could see the anger rising in Willets.  He was feeling anger himself.  Then Willets changed.  He looked down and shook his head.  When he looked back up, he looked sad not angry.

 

“Listen, Lenny, we pretend, but I’m not fooled.  You are the boss.  You have been the head guy most of our whole time together.  And it’s been good.  But with you gone, I won’t last five minutes with any of those lining up after you.  Not even with Crabtree.  I often wondered why you even kept me around. The same work I do could have been done by dozens of others.  At least after those first few years.”

 

“We’re partners!” Lenny said with a wide smile.  Trying to take the edge off the conversation.

 

“Not for a long time.  But that’s okay.  That’s okay.”

 

“Well, let me turn it around on you.  Why’d you stay?  You could have sold your shares, made a huge fortune and spent the rest of your days tinkering with your inventions.”

 

There was a pause as Willets looked at Lenny with a plaintiff quality in his eyes.

 

“Loyalty, Lenny.  I wanted to stay with you.  Look out for you.  Be a partner in adversity if something happens, you know, those times the company wasn’t buzzing.  Always wanted to be like that with you.  Still do, Lenny.”

 

The intercom buzzed, and Denise’s voice came on.  “Just a reminder, Mr. King.  The Exec Council assembled ten minutes ago. They know not to start without you.”

 

Lenny looked back at Willets.  “Listen, let’s talk about this some more.  I value your good counsel.  Always have. You know that.  But let’s get through this meeting today and we will set something up.”

 

Lenny emerged from behind his desk, walked by Willets, patted him lightly on the shoulder and went through the door.

 

Willets got up and followed him.

 

Lenny didn’t know it at the time, but his other partner had a surprise waiting.