Fatal Impressions (20 page)

When the plane took off from Heathrow Thursday morning, Hicks was still trying to talk Bain out of his plans. “Mr. Bain, I can’t understand why you want to enter the publishing business. It’s an unattractive industry—low margins, highly competitive, many failures, in consolidation. Book sales are declining, bookstores closing, and publishers are laying off employees. Magazines disappear daily. And you want a vertically integrated company? There are difficulties with that strategy—at least one major company, Carsen Publishing, apparently went under trying it—”

“Yes, I know,” Heyward said. “We’ll do it differently. Coleman will be in charge of publishing the two magazines, which she already owns. I’ve investigated them and I’m confident about their future. She has two perfect niches:
ArtSmart
,
the top magazine in the art world, and
First Home
is perfect for her talents—its mission is how to save money without sacrificing style. I’ll acquire whatever’s needed for the manufacturing side of the business and run it myself until I can find a CEO to take over. Or maybe I’ll enjoy running it and decide to continue as CEO.”

Hicks shook his head. “Where’s the growth? Where are the profits? I don’t see the advantages of integration.”

“The problem with a fully integrated publishing company is that the tail wags the dog: so many people work in manufacturing, data processing, and so on, and so much money is tied up in equipment that manufacturing overpowers the creative side and eventually runs the magazines into failure. We won’t make that mistake. The two sides of the publishing business are totally different and require different talents. Production can’t be dominant. As I said, we’ll run the two parts of the business separately. I’ll take over the production side of Coleman’s business with a company I’ll control with 51 percent ownership, and my sister will own 49 percent. That will give her plenty of incentive to use our paper and other materials and services. She’ll keep her magazines and concentrate on what she does best: hiring writers, selecting articles, writing and editing, dealing with the art world, and the decorating and homemaking worlds. It’s her talent that will make the magazines a success.”

Hicks nodded, but he didn’t look happy.

“As for the other side of the business, we’ll buy a paper mill and a printer, and modernize them. I have ideas for improving the papermaking system, raising the standards for air and water purity, and making paper mills more attractive to nearby communities. My work in cleaning up tobacco smoke will be useful in dealing with the sulfurous smell of the fumes the paper industry produces. Every time I’ve been on the coast of North or South Carolina or Louisiana or Mississippi, I’ve encountered that repellent odor, blown by the wind to the beaches. It’s a problem in a beach resort like Kiawah, South Carolina, where people come to play golf and tennis and relax. They want to lounge on the porches of their multimillion-dollar houses, swim in their pools, and breathe in the salty scent of the ocean, the green smell of newly cut grass, and the sweetness of the honeysuckle and magnolias, not rotten eggs.”

Hicks perked up. “You’ll invent again?”

Heyward smiled to himself. Hicks knew how much money Bain’s inventions brought in, and he’d been trying to persuade Bain to return to inventing. “Why not? There’s not a lot of scope for my antitobacco activities these days. Most developed countries have stopped their citizens from killing themselves with cigarettes, and there’s very little I can accomplish in the countries that still permit smoking.

“I’ve been thinking about testing some of my ideas on a new industry, and this is the perfect opportunity. We’ll own and run everything, from the forests through the printing, and we’ll be able to study the industry from every perspective. We’ll cut costs while we make everything greener. Coleman will always be our most important client, but we’ll take on others, too. I’m sure we can make a success of it, but we have to move fast. Pay what you must, but get what we need as quickly as you can. I don’t want to give anyone time to get in my way.”

Heyward sipped the black coffee the flight attendant had brought him, while serving huge English breakfasts to most of the other passengers. “The most important technical developments in paper manufacturing in the late twentieth and early twenty-first century have occurred in Asia and Europe. Put together a team to research major breakthroughs abroad. Hire the people to do the research, or work with an investment banker, or a consultant—I don’t care—just get me information on what’s going on where. We may have to hire some overseas papermaking experts to help us get started. Find out who’s good and who might be available. Don’t worry about the cost.”

Heyward took several magazines from his briefcase and handed them to Hicks. “Here are the most recent issues of
ArtSmart
and
First Home.
Ask someone to analyze them for their physical properties, paper size and quality—that kind of thing. What do Coleman’s magazines have in common physically? Page size? Paper quality? How do they differ? Can we standardize them? You know what to look for. I think magazine publishing should be a real business—one that makes money. Remember all those stories about this or that magazine that burned money until the owner closed it down? Ridiculous.”

“This project will be expensive,” Hicks warned. “You may end up burning money, too.”

Heyward laughed. “Not a chance. I promise you: in time, we’ll coin gold.”

“What about this building you want to buy?”

“That’s a top priority. I’ve asked our real estate people to contact the Fishley Brothers’ office, and ask Reuben Fishley to sell me the Third Avenue building where
ArtSmart
’s offices are. It’s not much of a building, so I doubt if the Fishleys will care; it’s probably scheduled for eventual demolition and replacement. When we get to New York, I want you to make the sale happen. Tell the Fishleys I’ll be grateful if they’ll let me have it—explain that I want it for family reasons. I’ll pay their asking price, and I’ll also owe them a favor. We should be able to work out something about demolition and replacement when the time comes. If it’s going to take long to finalize the sale, ask if I can lease the building immediately. Check on available office space in the building, see if I can move in fast. I want to take possession as soon as possible. We’ll work out of my house till we have office space.

“Now to the entertaining part: my other priority is taking out Colossus. I don’t think that will be difficult,” Heyward said.

“Got it. Which banker will deal with Colossus?” Hicks asked.

“Jeb Middleton—my friend, Jeb the Reb—I don’t think you’ve met him. I called him and put him in touch with Jonathan. We’re going to lock in supplies for Coleman, to make sure Colossus can’t shut her down. Jeb’s a South Carolina Middleton, but he was a poor relation and went through Harvard with scholarships and a lot of hard work, including waiting on tables and bartending. He graduated from Harvard Business School at the top of his class, and he’s one of the best bankers I’ve ever met. He’s also got deep-South manners, and could charm a mockingbird out of a tree.

“When you meet him, don’t let his low-key style deceive you. He can come across as half-asleep. When the opposition relaxes, he pounces. He worked for Morgan & Morgan until he went out on his own. As soon as I heard he was available, I retained him. There’s no one I’d rather have on my side. I’ll ask him to help with the paper and printing businesses, too.”

Heyward took some more papers out of his briefcase. “Now for a new topic: Coleman’s cousin Dinah is suspected of murder. Have a look at these and see what you think.”

Twenty minutes later, Hicks looked up. “I don’t see how we can help, do you?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to think about it a little more, talk to Jonathan again. I’m intrigued by the missing Stubbs paintings, and the missing heiresses.”

C
oleman had put aside her own and Dinah’s problems and was reading an article submitted by a decorator for
First Home
when her private line rang.

“Coleman, this is Heyward. Your white knight has arrived,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sorry Jonathan bothered you—I asked him not to—I already owe you so much—”

“You mustn’t think I’m doing this just as a favor to you. I’ve been looking for a new project, and this one fascinates me. We’ll get rid of Colossus, and then we’ll get to the interesting part.”

Yeah, right. What was interesting about the magazine business, except her job? Did
he
plan to take over her magazines, too? “Which is the interesting part?” Coleman asked.

“I’m interested in the manufacturing part of the business—the printing, the papermaking, the physical side of putting it all together. If you’re free, Andrew Hicks—he’s my assistant; I don’t think you’ve met him—and I can brief you on what we plan to do. We’ll come to your office, if that’s okay with you?”

Two hours later, Coleman escorted her brother and Hicks to the elevators, her head spinning. Tree plantations. Odorless paper processing. New technology imported from Europe. Restoring the US paper industry. When she’d realized that Heyward had no desire to be involved in the creative side of the business—
her
business—she’d relaxed and listened. She didn’t doubt he could do what he said he could. She’d seen Heyward the Genius at work, and she was awed. He was Jack the Giant Killer; George the Dragon Slayer.

When he’d completed his explanation, Heyward suggested that she let him take charge of everything to do with Colossus. When she hesitated, he said, “In your next letter, they’ll tell you your paper supplier will no longer sell you paper. Don’t panic: we’ve locked up enough paper to keep your magazines supplied for years. Same with your printers. You’ll have to trust me, Coleman. Think of it as a chess game. I’ll anticipate their every move, and I’ll always be ahead of them, no matter what they do. Ignore their letters. When you get mail from Colossus, don’t open it—have it delivered to me or Hicks. Your messenger won’t have far to go. I’ve taken over the penthouse in this building.”

“You have? Wow! That was quick. Okay, Colossus is all yours. If I can forget about those creeps, I can concentrate on revamping
First Home
—which is what I want to do more than anything. Thanks again, Heyward.”

She didn’t much like the idea of letting Heyward fight her battles—she’d expected that they’d work together to defeat Colossus—but another letter from Colossus had arrived today, and if she read it, she’d worry instead of work. She knew she didn’t have the expertise or the money to take on a huge, rich predatory company. Letting Heyward deal with Colossus was comparable to trusting Jonathan with financial matters. She was confident Heyward was at least as knowledgeable about whatever he undertook as Jonathan was in finance.

She might as well turn over Amy’s reports to Heyward, too—no point in reading that stuff if Heyward or one of his people would do it for her. She packed the gray binders Amy’s team had put together with the letter from Colossus and asked a passing intern to take the box upstairs to the penthouse
.

She called Dinah to tell her Heyward was in town, and asked if Dinah would invite him to dinner, too. The more the merrier, Dinah said—or at least, the more distracting. She’d phone him herself. She’d already spoken to Rob, and he was coming.

Coleman’s phone rang again. This time it was the receptionist.

“Coleman, something’s going on in the lobby. One of the guys downstairs called to say the building’s been sold. People moving everything, changing signs. Do you know what’s happening?”

Coleman was horrified. Colossus must have bought the building—Heyward was too late. She and her magazines were about to be evicted! She dialed her brother. “Heyward? This building’s been sold—what? You did? I do? Good Heavens. I can hardly wait to see the sign.”

She hung up and spoke to Dolly. “Guess what? Heyward bought the building. The new sign downstairs reads CH Holdings. The
C
is me! Can you believe it? Let’s go look at it.” She grabbed Dolly’s leash, and the two of them rushed to the elevator.

She stared at the sign, trying to let it sink in: she was part-owner of a Manhattan building. Back upstairs, she called Dinah to share the news.

“
Who-oo-ee
. You are some lucky girl,” Dinah said.

Coleman agreed (although she feared there was still a long way to go before Colossus gave up and went away). She asked about the progress of the print hanging.

“They could have finished today, but they’re dragging things out so they can be around Friday morning to see the so-called Stubbs,” Dinah said.

“After they see them, I hope they’ll pick up the check and run,” Coleman said.

As soon as he looked at the binders Amy gave Coleman, and compared them to his study of Colossus’s activities, Hicks realized what was going on: the DDD&W team recommended this or that supplier to Coleman, but before she could evaluate their suggestions, let alone implement them, Colossus took the recommended suppliers out of play. If Amy and her associates listed “must hires” in
First Home
’s
accounting or marketing departments, Colossus hired the stars before Coleman received the relevant DDD&W reports. Someone at DDD&W was leaking information to Colossus.

Hicks took his evidence to Bain’s office, where Bain and Jeb were discussing the paper business. After he’d described his discovery, Hicks added, “Miss Coleman may be missing out on some good people, but what’s more important is that what they’re doing is illegal—DDD&W is supplying, and Colossus Publishing is using, inside information. Somebody ought to put a stop to it. What I don’t get is why Colossus is being so obvious about it.”

“I think they want Coleman to know that they have access to her consultants, to information that should be privileged. They think they can undermine her confidence, and she’ll crumble, give them what they want. They want to make her believe she can’t even trust an old friend like Amy Rothman,” Heyward said.

“
Can
Amy Rothman be trusted? Maybe she’s supplying Colossus,” Hicks said.

“What do you
think?” Heyward asked Jeb. “You know a lot of Wall Street people. Do you know her?”

Jeb nodded. “Yes, I know Amy, and she’s a straight arrow, never heard a bad thing about her. I reckon Moose is the mastermind of this little scheme. He left his last job because he wasn’t made head of investment bankin’—he wanted more status, and a lot more money. He needs money bad. Keeps gettin’ married, keeps gettin’ divorced. Expensive hobby. His new wife is a spendin’ champion. She pays more for clothes in a year than Portugal’s GNP. He was promised big money at DDD&W, but it was all on the come. He’s entitled to a hunk of the profits, but the business hasn’t gone nearly as well as he expected, and there
are
no profits. Poor ole Moose must have needed money bad, and spotted a way to get some. What a dope.”

Heyward looked amused. “Do you know everyone’s secrets?”

Jeb laughed. “Pretty much, if they’re players. It goes with the game. You got to know street gossip. Who’re you interested in?”

“What about Hunt Austin Frederick?” Heyward asked.

Jeb shrugged. “Hunt Austin Frederick’s richer than most people on the Forbes list—he’s got a lot of cattle to go with his hats. All those names he’s sportin’ are tellin’ us he’s kin to every millionaire in Texas, and he’s got a piece of ever’thing that makes money in the whole dang state. If he’s into wrongdoin’, it sure ain’t cause he needs money. He ain’t been in New York long, which prob’ly means he’s innocent of anything at DDD&W in New York, but what with phones and e-mails and such, I reckon he could have been runnin’ things from anywhere. Only why would he steal? What’s his motive?

“Back to Moose; I reckon he is usin’ one or two of those little pissants that tote his briefcase to do the dirty work.”

“Are they likely to be using inside information for stock trading, too?” Hicks asked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Moose has always been a speculator. As for who else is mixed up in his racket, I think we can eliminate some of ‘em,” Jeb said.

“Who?” Heyward asked.

“That creep Leichter is so beat down by his father-in-law, he can barely breathe. I hear he’s one for the ladies, but since he couldn’t afford to buy a woman a hot dawg off a street cart, he’s said to stick to the company ink, so he can pay off his girlfriends with office favors. He’s prob’ly stealin’ paper clips, and messin’ around with any female that’ll have him, but that’s it.

“Oscar Danbury is a genuine lunatic. He could be up to anything, includin’ this. He’d steal if he got a chance. He thinks somebody’s going to kidnap him or somethin’—got bars in every window of his house, and a bank vault full of gold in case of the revolution. You’ve heard about his parlor trick?” Jeb asked.

Heyward held up his hand. “Yes, yes, spare us. I already know too much about that disgusting creature. Who else?”

“No other big-time players at DDD&W. Featherweights. Paper pushers. Small-town boys who should have stayed there,” Jeb said.

“How do you think the information is transferred?” Hicks asked.

“Nothin’ easier. I’m bettin’ every word DDD&W produces is computerized, and that there’s no security. One of Moose’s Merry Men digs into any files Moose is interested in, gives the information to Moose, and Moose takes it to Colossus, and they pay big for it,” Jeb said.

Hicks raised his eyebrows. “That simple? I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often.”

Jeb shrugged again. “Maybe other DDD&W clients are also buyin’ inside information from ‘em. But it don’t happen in most companies cause you can go to jail for it. The feds and the New York Attorney General have been puttin’ away a lot of folks for insider trading, and they’ll be glad to catch a few more. I’m sure Moose will end up in jail, and he’ll take a bunch of others with him, includin’ his helpers at Colossus,” Jeb said.

“What do we do about it?” Hicks asked.

“We-ell,” Jeb drawled. “I think I should have a chat with Rick Oliver. Remember him? The banker who first contacted Miss Coleman? I reckon he’s a pawn, but I’ll make sure he’s out of the game, and that he tells Colossus all about us. It’s time to let the pirates know who the good guys are, and just how much we’ve got in our arsenal.”

“Good plan. I’m going to talk to Hunt Frederick tomorrow. I think it’s the courteous thing to do, given Coleman’s connection with his company. Maybe I’ll learn something about him—figure out what he’s up to, for better or worse. But before I do, tell me what you think about what’s going on at DDD&W. Is there a master criminal at work?” Heyward asked.

Hicks shook his head. “I don’t think so. People are taking advantage of slack management who’ve given them a license to steal. I see it as a collection of individual rackets.”

Jeb nodded. “Right. Mold grows in dark dank places. Maggots turn up in rotten meat. Same thing at DDD&W. Nasty scams sproutin’ up all over the place.”

“So how do we handle it?” Heyward asked.

“Sniper attacks. Sharp shootin’. Take ‘em out one at a time,” Jeb said.

“I agree. We’ll go after each one as soon as we can prove something against him, her—or them,” Heyward said.

“We’ve proved that someone at DDD&W is using inside information but not that it’s Moose,” Hicks pointed out.

“If we tip off the authorities that Colossus is usin’ inside information they’re gettin’ from DDD&W, with what we give ‘em, they’ll get a warrant and go into the DDD&W computers, and see who’s been messin’ around in Miss Coleman’s business. When Moose’s lackeys are caught, they’ll talk, and Moose will fold. I know—I’ve played poker with him,” Jeb said.

Heyward nodded. “Right. Jeb, please give copies of everything we have on this inside information lead to Rob so he can pass it on to his friend at the SEC. Hicks, you take everything we know to the DA. We might as well get them involved. Make sure you let Jonathan and Dinah and the lawyers know what’s going on. I’ll call Coleman. When I talk to Hunt Frederick, I’ll warn him about Moose. Coleman says they’re friends. If so, this will hit hard, unless Frederick already knows about it, which I doubt. But if he does, we’ll turn him in, too.”