Ransom (12 page)

They chatted inanely for a while, and Phillip indulged him by asking what he had in mind. Peter told him the areas that were of interest. Marketing, finance, new investments, new divisions, new business, anything entrepreneurial that Addison thought would be suited to him. And then he sighed and looked at Phillip. It was time to be honest.

“Look, I need the work. If I don't get a job, I'm going to be out on the street with a shopping cart and a tin cup, and maybe only the tin cup and no cart. I'll do whatever you need me to, within reason. I don't want to go back to prison. Short of that, I'd like to work for you. In your legitimate business obviously. The other stuff is just too risky for me. I can't do it. And I don't want to.”

“You've gotten very noble in the last four years. You didn't have quite as many compunctions five years ago, when I met you.”

“I was stupid and a lot younger, and pretty crazy. Fifty-one months in Pelican Bay gets your feet on the floor, and your head out of your ass. It was a good wake-up call, if you can call it that. I'm not going back there. Next time, they'll have to kill me.” He meant it.

“You were lucky they didn't kill you last time,” Addison said openly. “You pissed off a lot of people when you left. What about your debt to me?” Addison asked, not so much because he wanted it, but he wanted to remind Peter that he owed him. It was a fortuitous beginning. For Addison, if not for Peter.

“I told you, I'd be happy to work for it, and have you take it out of my paycheck over time. It's the best I can do for now. I have nothing else to give you.” Addison knew it was the truth. They both did, and Peter was being honest with him. As honest as you could be with a man like Addison. Honesty wasn't something he valued. For him, choirboys were useless. But even Phillip knew you couldn't get blood from a stone. Peter had no money to give him. All he had were brains and motivation, and for now that was enough.

“I could still have you killed, you know,” Addison said quietly. “Some of our mutual friends in Mexico would be happy to do it. More particularly there's one in Colombia who wanted to have you taken out in prison. I asked him not to. I always liked you, Morgan,” Addison said as though discussing his golf game with him. He played golf regularly with heads of industries and heads of state alike. He had important political connections. He was a fraud of such a lofty degree that Peter knew he would be helpless to go after him, if anything ever went wrong. He was a powerful man, an evil force, with absolutely no integrity or morals. None whatsoever. And Peter knew it. He was outclassed in every possible way. If Peter went to work for him, he would be a pawn in one of Addison's chess games. But if he didn't, sooner or later, out of sheer desperation, he could wind up back in Pelican Bay, working for the warden.

“If that's true, about the guy from Colombia, then thank you,” Peter said politely. He didn't want to lie to him, and in response to Addison saying he had always liked him, Peter didn't respond. He never had liked Addison. He knew too much to like him. Addison looked good, but was rotten. He had a very social wife, and four very lovely children. To the few who knew him well, and knew the many masks he wore, they compared Phillip Addison to Satan. To the rest of the world, he seemed successful and respectable. Peter knew better.

“I figured you'd be more useful to me alive one day,” Addison said thoughtfully, as though he had something in mind for him, which he did. “And that time may have come. It seemed like a waste having you die in prison. I have an idea for you. I was thinking about it after we talked today. It's sort of a precision issue of sorts. A highly technical, carefully organized, synchronized combined effort between experts.” He made it sound like open heart surgery, and Peter couldn't figure out what kind of project it was, from what he was saying.

“In what field?” Peter asked, relieved to be talking about work finally, and not threats to have him killed, or the money he owed him. They were getting down to business.

“I'm not prepared to explain it to you yet. I will. But I want to do some more research. Actually, you're going to do the research. I want to think about the execution of the project. That's my job. But first, I want to know that you're in. I want to hire you as the project coordinator. I don't think you have the technical knowledge to do the job. Neither do I. But I want you to line up the experts who will do it for us. And together, we'll share in the profits. I want to cut you in on this deal, not just hire you as an employee. If you do this right, you'll have earned it.” Peter was intrigued as he listened. It sounded interesting and challenging, and profitable. It was just what he needed to get on his feet and make a few investments of his own again, maybe start his own company. He had a keen sense for investments, and had learned a lot before he got off on the wrong track. This was the chance he needed to start over. It was too good to hope for. Maybe his luck was turning. Addison was finally doing something decent for him, and Peter was grateful.

“Is it a long-term research project, to be developed over several years?” There was job security in that, although it might tie him to Addison for longer than he wanted. But it would also give him plenty of time to get on his feet, which was something. He might even get visitation rights with his girls again, which Peter still dreamed of, when he allowed himself to. He hadn't seen his daughters in five years, and his heart ached when he thought of it. He had screwed everything up so badly in the past, even his relationship with his children, while they were still babies. He hoped one day to get to know them. And with financial stability again, he could approach Janet more reasonably, even if she had remarried.

“Actually,” Addison went on to explain the project he had in mind for him, “it's relatively short term. I think we can accomplish it in months, or even weeks. There will be some research and set-up time, of course, the project itself, which might take a month or even two to handle, and the clean-up afterward. I don't think we're talking long term here. And the profit sharing could be extraordinary.” It was hard to guess what it was. Maybe some new high-tech invention he was planning to release on the market, and he wanted Peter to organize the launch, in terms of marketing and PR. He couldn't think what else it was. Or some start-up venture he wanted Peter to handle while it was being shot out of the cannon into the public at first, to be handed over to other people once it was. Addison was being mysterious about it, as Peter listened and tried to guess what it was.

“Are you talking about product introduction or development, or market testing of some kind?” Peter was groping to understand it.

“In a way.” Addison nodded and then paused. He had to say something to him, even before he took him into his confidence entirely. “I've been considering this project for a long time, and I think the time is right for it. I think your call to me this morning was strangely providential,” he said with an evil smile. Peter had never seen eyes as cold or terrifying as his.

“When would you want me to start?” He was thinking of the fifteen dollars he had in his wallet, which weren't going to get him past dinner that night and breakfast in the morning, provided he ate at McDonald's. If not, it would be gone by that night. And after that, he'd be begging on the street, and could be violated for that, if he got caught.

Addison looked him dead in the eye. “Today, if you like. I think we're ready to start. We need to handle this project in stages. Over the next four weeks, I would want you to take on research and development. In fact, I want you to do the hiring.” Peter's heart gave a hopeful leap. This was better than he'd hoped for, and the answer to his prayers.

“What kind of people are we talking about hiring here?” He still didn't understand the scope, or even the focus, of the project. But obviously, it was something top secret and high tech.

“Who you hire is up to you. I want to be consulted of course but I think your connections in this area are better than mine,” Addison said generously. And with that, he unlocked the drawer he had locked as Peter walked in, and took out the heavy file he had been compiling for years, and handed it to him. In it were clippings and reports on virtually every project Allan Barnes had undertaken for the past four years. Peter took the file from him and opened it, and then looked up at Phillip. He was impressed. He knew who Allan was. There was no one in the financial or high-tech world who didn't. He was a dot-com genius, the biggest of them all. There were even several photographs of him with his family in the file. It was extraordinarily complete.

“Are you thinking of a joint venture with him?”

“I was. Not anymore. You've been a little out of the loop apparently. He died in January, leaving a widow and three children.”

“That's too bad,” Peter said sympathetically, wondering how he had missed it, although there had been times in Pelican Bay when he didn't read the papers. The real world had seemed too remote.

“The project would actually have been more interesting while he was still alive. I think we would have gotten better response from him, but in this case, I'm actually willing to work with his widow,” Phillip said magnanimously.

“On what?” Peter looked blank. “Is she running his empire now?” He really was out of the loop. He hadn't read anything about it.

“I assume he left her his entire fortune, or most of it, whatever he didn't leave to his kids,” Phillip explained. “I understand from a friend that she was his sole beneficiary. And I know for a fact that he made half a billion dollars before he died. He died on a fishing trip in Mexico. He fell overboard and was lost at sea. They're being close-mouthed about their plans for his companies, but I assume she is going to be making most of those decisions, or some of them.”

“Have you approached her directly about a joint investment of some kind?” Peter had never had the impression that Allan Barnes's interests lay in the same fields as Addison's, but it was an interesting concept, and whatever money problems Addison still had were going to be solved by an alliance with an empire as solvent as the one Allan had left, or so Peter thought. It hadn't occurred to either of them that the empire had crashed and burned before he died, let alone that that was why he had. Barnes had done such a masterful job of hiding companies behind other companies, and concealing the insane gambles he had taken, that, for the moment at least, even a man with Addison's connections had no idea of the depth of the rubble Allan Barnes had left in his wake. Fernanda, the attorneys, and the heads of Allan's defunct companies had done a brilliant job keeping it quiet, although they couldn't do it forever. But for the four months since he died, they had managed, and the legend of Allan Barnes had not been tarnished yet. Fernanda wanted it that way for as long as possible, to honor her husband's memory and for her children's sake. The benefit to Addison of an alliance with Barnes, from what Peter could see, was that the world Barnes had created around him was so respectable, it would gild his ventures with the same golden brush. In fact, any kind of joint project between them was a stroke of genius, and Peter approved. Allan Barnes's name and reputation were respectable and admired in the extreme. And certainly a project involving both groups of companies was exactly what Peter needed to put him back on the map. For good. It was a dream come true, and he sat smiling at Phillip Addison with new respect, as he held the thick file that Phillip had handed to him.

“I haven't approached Mrs. Barnes directly myself,” Addison went on to explain. “We're not ready to do that yet. You have to do the hiring first.”

“I guess I'd better read the file, in order to fully understand the nature of the project.”

“I don't think so,” Phillip said, reaching across the desk, and taking it back from him. “All that is, is a history and chronology of his accomplishments. It's relevant, of course, but you probably know most of it anyway,” he said vaguely, as Peter looked confused again. The entire project seemed to be shrouded in mystery, so much so that he was being asked to hire people for a nameless project, in a field that hadn't been explained to him, to do a job that Addison had yet to outline. It was more than a little confusing, which was precisely what Addison had intended. He smiled across the desk at Peter again, as he locked the file back in the drawer.

“Who am I supposed to hire, if I don't have a clear idea of what we're doing?” Peter sounded puzzled.

“I think you have a clear idea, Peter. Don't you? Do I have to spell it out for you? I want you to hire some of your friends from the last four years.”

“What friends?” Peter looked even more confused.

“I'm sure you've met some very interesting people, some entrepreneurial sorts who would like to make a very large amount of money, and then quietly disappear. I want you to do some serious thinking, and we'll handpick them to do a very special job for us. I don't expect you to do the manual labor here, but I do expect you to oversee it, and run the project.”

“And the project is what?” Peter was frowning, he suddenly didn't like what he was hearing. From a business standpoint, the last four years of his life had been a blank. All he had met were criminals and rapists, murderers and thieves. And suddenly, as he looked at Addison, his blood ran cold. “Where does Allan Barnes's wife fit in?”

“It's very simple. After we put together the project, or you do more precisely, we make our proposal to her. We provide a little incentive for her to accept our offer. She pays us handsomely. In fact, I am prepared to be reasonable with her, given the size of her fortune, and the estate taxes she is probably required to pay. Assuming he was worth half a billion dollars when he died, the government will want just over fifty percent of that. Conservatively, I'd say she'll be worth two hundred million dollars when all is said and done. And we're only asking her for half of that. At least that's what I have in mind.”

“And what is she going to be investing in?” Peter asked in a chilled voice, but he had already guessed.

“The lives and safe return of any and all of her children, which would be cheap at twice the price. Essentially, we are asking her to split her net worth with us, which I think sounds very fair, and I'm sure she'll be happy to pay it. Don't you?” Addison was smiling evilly, as Peter Morgan stood up.