Monahan 02 Artificial Intentions (6 page)

I stared blankly at him, willing him to get to the point. So far, nothing rang a bell.

“One of the junior lawyers, who I understand you used to work with during your time at Scapelli’s, was part of the team working on the acquisition. She has since left Scapelli’s and is now at the Ontario Securities Commission.”

That
rang a bell. Missy Goodman. How could I forget. The type of woman who gave the rest of us a bad name. A chip on her shoulder the size of a large tree trunk. She had started at Scapelli’s as a summer student, spent a year articling and then was hired on full-time after she was called to the Bar. Initially, she and I had become good friends. I took her under my wing and showed her the ropes. And then the little bitch had turned on me.

She was one of the few women allowed into the all-male bastion of the corporate securities department at Scapelli’s. So she had something to prove. Little Missy Goodman. It was Missy when she was a summer and articling student, and then Melissa, as soon as she became a full-fledged lawyer.

I was naive then, and the one thing I have to thank Missy for is my wariness at making new friends. Jesus, she’d even spent a weekend with my family at my parent’s place on Georgian Bay. But as soon as she was called to the bar,
I
was the secretary and
she
was the lawyer. And make no mistake about it. It was difficult working with her after that. Especially in the team environment I liked to foster in our group. She stayed at Scapelli’s for four years and then made the jump to the OSC. I now remembered what the story was that Dennis was droning on about.

“So,” he continued eagerly. “You showed up with your boss. Everyone was running around, doing their thing. And Melissa Goodman came up to you with some documents in her hand, and in front of everyone, asked you to make some photocopies.”

I smiled widely.

“And you said,
Fuck you
,” he blushed as he said fuck, “
I’m
the client now. Make your own damn copies.”

He beamed. “Legend. Absolute legend.”

I heard Cleve laugh behind me. “He’s right Kate.”

The sweat had disappeared from Dennis’ face. I decided I liked him.

chapter eight

The actual “reading” of Tommy’s will took less than twenty minutes. I tried really hard to concentrate but the heretofores, henceforths and notwithstandings kept me mostly confused. My knowledge of wills and estates could fill the head of a pin so I was lost.

But, the bottom line was it was all mine. Whatever it was that Tommy had owned was now mine. Hithertofore. Henceforth. And forevermore. The true bottom line though wasn’t defined in the will because, as Dennis explained, they had to present value everything in the estate and the valuation would take some time.

“However, if you’re interested in a ballpark figure, for the shares alone, that I can provide you,” he told me.

“How many shares are issued and outstanding in Phoenix?” I asked.

Dennis deferred to Cleve on this one.

“Almost ten million at last count.”

Whew. “And the current trading price?”

Again, Cleve answered. “About seven and three-eighths.”

That was $7.375 a share. My math was terrible, but already my head was swimming.

Dennis piped up. “That makes the outstanding shares worth roughly $73,750,000.”

My throat tightened and I was sure I was choking. Just to make sure, I fumbled in my purse and found my cigarettes and quickly lit one. Seventy-three million dollars. Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Now I had to know. Up until now, I hadn’t thought about what this inheritance meant. In terms of dollars. Not more than a month ago, I was unemployed, and worried about whether I should spend the money for an oil change on my old clunker. I smoked my cigarette and stared at Dennis and Cleve.

I finally popped the question. “What was Tommy’s percentage?”

“Thirty-three percent.”

My old boss used to tell me I didn’t have trouble with
math
, I had trouble with
arithmetic.
I didn’t even try to make the calculation.

I thought it rude to ask the next question, but I pushed on.

“And that would be approximately what, Einstein?”

“A little over twenty-four million dollars, Kate.” Dennis said this proudly. He’d probably never had a client who’d left someone so much money.

“On paper,” Cleve added.

Of course, on paper. I couldn’t believe Tommy had been worth so much. On paper, of course.

“And, then there’s the matter of the life insurance policy,” Dennis said.

“Why would Tommy have a life insurance policy when he was worth so much?” I asked.

“The stock market is never a sure thing, and as he said in his will, he wanted to make sure he provided for you,” Dennis told me.

Why Tommy felt he had to provide for me was beyond my comprehension. I had never asked for, and in fact I would not have even accepted, alimony. I was too proud and besides, I was self-sufficient. My job had supported me before I met Tommy, and my job continued to provide for me. All of this wealth was overwhelming. To say nothing of the responsibility that went along with it.

I stood up and started pacing the room, chain-smoking.

“Cleve, I can’t take this all in. The money, the responsibility, it’s impossible. And unbelievable.”

Here I was suddenly very rich, and very depressed. And I certainly didn’t like the way I had inherited it all.

Dennis coughed to get my attention.

“The life insurance policy is valued at one million dollars,” he quickly spit out. He’d been dying to tell me that.

“Ha. A measly million? Peanuts,” I said sarcastically.

Dennis coughed again but this time it came out as a squeal.

“She’s joking Dennis, joking,” Cleve assured him.

I finally sat at the table and put my head down on my arms. I wanted to go to sleep now. Waves of fatigue rolled over me and I felt my eyes closing. I wanted to curl up in a ball under my duvet in my little apartment, and go to sleep. Sleep comes easiest to me when I’m stressed but I reluctantly forced myself to sit up and pay attention.

“Can I have some coffee? Is there a machine around where I can make some?”

Dennis jumped up. “I’ll get it for you. Decaf?”

“No way. I need high test.”

When Dennis left the room, Cleve quietly asked me, “How are you feeling about all of this, Kate?”

“How the fuck do you think I’m feeling?” I shouted. “Do you want me to jump up and down and yell, I’m going to Disney World? This is terrible, it sucks. I never asked for all of this. I’ve never even dreamed about winning the lottery. I have no idea what to do about all of this. I don’t want it.” I had a sudden thought. “I can refuse to take it, can’t I?”

Cleve slowly shook his head.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I
don’t want it
. What part of that don’t you understand?”

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. You take the money. And the responsibility. And the eleven hundred employees. And the fucking exotic fish.” At that, I burst into tears. I was so incredibly mature.

Dennis arrived at that moment with a thermos of coffee in one hand and a stack of Styrofoam cups in the other.

“Dennis,” Cleve said. “Can you give us a minute?”

When Dennis had left the room, again, Cleve told me to sit down and get a grip on myself. The man was definitely the strong, sympathetic type.

“You can’t change what’s happened Kate.”

“No I can’t.” I wiped my nose in a very unladylike manner on a balled-up Kleenex that I found at the bottom of my purse. “But I don’t have to like it. In fact, at this moment, I’m more pissed off at Tommy then I’ve ever been. Didn’t he have a favourite charity or something?”

“Kate, you’re missing the point. Phoenix Technologies was his life. And he said in his will that he wanted it left in the capable hands of the one person he trusted implicitly. You.”

“Well, Phoenix Technologies is in deep shit. Sure, I can type like a demon, transcribe dicta-tapes until the cows come home, organize a mean meeting, but I have no idea how to chair a board of directors and run a multi-million dollar company.”

Cleve reached across the table and covered my hand with his huge paw.

“You’ll just have to learn.”

I turned up the air conditioner full blast, and stood naked under the ceiling vent. When I was chilled sufficiently I crawled under the covers on the king-size bed, curled up in a ball and tried to sleep but I could still feel the caffeine coursing through my veins. The digital alarm clock on the bedside table read 1:45 a.m. and I cursed the amount of coffee I had consumed over the past several hours.

It had been just after midnight when Lou returned me to the hotel. The lobby was quiet and I was overwhelmed with feelings of loneliness as I trudged to the elevators.

After the meeting with Dennis, Cleve and I had returned to the Phoenix offices for the emergency board meeting. Cleve introduced me to each of the directors and then he conducted the meeting because I had told him I had absolutely no intention of chairing the meeting and that the onus was on him to get through the business at hand. I had sat mute throughout most of the meeting, trying to pay attention and understand everything going on.

It was the first time in my life that I remember feeling completely intimidated and shy. Shy wasn’t even a word in my vocabulary but the overwhelming enormity of what had happened to me in the last twelve hours rendered me helpless in front of these people.

The names of the directors were familiar to me when I was introduced but my mind was too full to try and remember their backgrounds. A couple of them I remembered from my dealings with the company when it had first gone public. One of the directors was a vice president of the company.

Cleve had started the meeting by introducing me formally and then explaining the terms and conditions of Tommy’s will. There were no gasps of surprise so I was sure everyone had been brought up to speed before I arrived. Cleve then put forth a motion to appoint me chairperson of the board and it had been carried unanimously.

The next item for discussion was the content of the press release that would be sent out first thing in the morning. The release set out in vague verbiage how I had come to be appointed to the office of chairperson. Several directors were quoted with
bon mots
about the tragedy of the loss of life and how pleased they were that I was joining the company and that I’d be a great addition to the team.

There was a paragraph about me, outlining my illustrious career in law and high technology. I had trouble believing that what had been written was actually about me. It was all factual but it gave me an uneasy feeling. Whoever had written it made it sound too good.

I held up the draft press release and pointed to the paragraph about me.

“Is this necessary?” I asked Cleve who was sitting beside me at the boardroom table.

“Absolutely. The shareholders are going to want to know who’s running the ship.”

“It’s too flowery. Almost unbelievable. Tone it down a little. I don’t think we should oversell me.”

“We’ll rewrite it. But we have to put in your background.”

“Fine. I’d rather we didn’t have to do any damage control when someone takes a close look at it. We should be up front from the beginning. Full, true and plain disclosure,” I reminded him, stating the strong, basic principle of securities law.

“Absolutely,” Cleve agreed with me. I wasn’t going to play any of the games with press releases that I had witnessed in my years at TechniGroup Consulting.

A short press release had gone out earlier in the day announcing the death of Tommy and the shares of the company had closed down about half a dollar. Cleve warned me that we could expect that the stock would be down again the next day and that it would be impossible to predict what the market’s reaction was going to be.

We finished up the meeting quickly, covering off the approval of the financial statements because the company had a deadline for filing the various documents with the OSC and the SEC and the stock exchanges. I abstained from voting.

Before leaving the office I asked for a copy of all press releases from the last two years and the last two annual reports and 10K’s. I had some serious studying to do and some fast catching-up. And I was probably going to have to hire a tutor to help me through the financial stuff.

After the meeting I made a quick exit and Cleve escorted me down in the elevator to the waiting car. In the elevator I broached the subject I had been avoiding all day.

“I want to speak to the police about Tommy’s death. I need to find out what happened. Has anyone been in contact with you?”

“Yes,” he responded slowly. “In fact, there’ve been several messages from the detective in charge. They want to meet with you as soon as possible.”

“They have
no
idea who was responsible?”

Cleve didn’t answer me.

“What’s happening with the investigation?” I pressed him.

We were outside the building now, beside the car, and Cleve conveniently ignored my question and opened the back door for me.

“Do you realize, I know nothing about how Tommy died. Except that he was shot in the back of the head. Now, if you have some more information, I’d be grateful if you’d share it with me.”

Cleve gave a visible sigh and a fatherly look came over his face.

“The investigation is continuing. Obviously. I have no hint of what’s going on.”

“You’re patronizing me Cleve. Don’t do that.”

“Fine. You’ll find out soon enough. I understand they’re investigating Tommy’s death as a homicide, as you know, and that they suspect it was someone who knew him. They have definitely told me it wasn’t a random mugging.”

“Thank you. What was so hard about sharing that information?”

Cleve stared at me hard, for a few moments.