Take Down (The Men of the Sisterhood) (3 page)

“Do we have a time limit, Jack?” Dennis asked.

“We do. I want to put this to bed before the New Year. That gives us six days, counting today. I want this done before Sparrow takes office. And by the way, I scheduled a webcam meeting with Bert and Sparrow for later this afternoon, so make sure you’re all back here if any of you are planning to leave.”

“I just have to check in at the paper; then I can stay the rest of the day,” Maggie said. “This is our easiest week of the whole year. That means the paper runs itself more or less, rehashing the year, yada yada yada.”

Everyone said they were good and could spend the day.

The banker boxes were opened, the doughnuts disappeared, as if by magic, and the work started in a sea of paper and comments as the boys and one gal got to work with a vengeance.

Cyrus found himself boxed in under the table. He barked and backed out, then headed for more neutral ground, the kitchen, where he started to work on a Greenie that would clean his teeth and freshen his breath, his ears tuned to any and all sounds that were the slightest bit unusual.

Jack looked up from what he was doing and glanced at his watch. He could hardly believe it was already past noon, but his stomach was telling him it was definitely time for lunch. He looked around at the others, all of whom were diligently making notes or reading files. He walked out to the kitchen and called the Bagel Emporium to order lunch: pastrami on rye all around, with tubs of potato salad and coleslaw. He was told it would be forty-five minutes before it could be delivered. To pass the time, he brewed some fresh coffee and tried once more to call Nikki. He was stunned when she picked up after the second ring. His heart fluttered. That had to mean she was still on the ground, stuck somewhere.

“Where are you, Nik?”

“Kansas City. We’re grounded. There is no chance, we’re told, of getting out today, so Alexis and I are going to go to a hotel and hope we can get an early flight in the morning. How’s everything?”

Jack sighed. “You know, same old, same old. Christmas is over. We missed you. It wasn’t the same, but we were together; the guys, I mean. And Maggie. How was yours?”

“God, Jack, don’t even ask. If I live to be a hundred, I will never forget this disaster of a Christmas. Never!” she said vehemently. Her voice was so shrill, Jack blanched. “Do you believe those creepy bastards at Andover sent some . . . some flunky to the funeral? They sent a ton of flowers and a . . . and a . . . goddamn teddy bear. A teddy bear. Do you believe that? Oh, and they sent a fruit basket to the house. A fruit basket!” Her voice was so strident coming through the cell phone, Cyrus reared up and howled.

Jack struggled to find some comforting words, but they wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter since Nikki wasn’t listening anyway. “You know what else, Jack? Those bastards are not going to settle. I know that now for sure. We’re going to have to go to court. These families are worn out. All their fight is gone. Like Molly’s dad said, once you see your child go into the ground, it’s all over. And he’s right. I want to pack it in myself. So does Alexis. But if we do that, then those bastards win. Tell me what to do, Jack. Please, tell me what I should do.”

Jack wished there was a deep hole he could fall into right that second. What to say, how to say it? The best he could come up with was, “I know it doesn’t seem possible right now, but it’s all going to work out, Nik. Trust me on that, okay?”

There was so much bitterness in his wife’s voice that Jack longed for the deep hole. “No, Jack, it isn’t going to work out. I’m losing this suit. You know it, I know it, and so do those skunks at Andover. It’s been almost two years, Jack, that I’ve been at this, and I’m no further along today than I was a year ago. Damn it, Jack, they’re going to drive me into the ground. I’d like to get my hands around the neck of that Otto Andover and squeeze till his eyes pop out of his head. Listen, Jack, I have to go. Something is happening at the ticket counter, and Alexis is calling me. I love you. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, do what you have to do. Love you, too,” Jack said as he ended the call. He stood for a long time, just staring at his reflection in the stainless-steel refrigerator, until Cyrus nudged his leg ever so gently. Jack looked down at the big dog with the soulful brown eyes and whispered, “We’re gonna make it right for her, Cyrus. We are. And I think I’m going to push up our timetable before Nik crashes and burns on me.” Cyrus whined low in his throat.

Jack was a whirlwind as he roared down the hall and into the conference room, his arms outstretched and palms outward. “Stop! Listen up, everyone. New plan. I just got off the phone with Nikki.” Five minutes later, the group had been apprised of what had transpired and Jack’s reasons for advancing the time on what he was calling the take down of Andover Pharmaceuticals.

“Jack, do we even know if the Andovers are in the country? Don’t people like that go to Gstaad for skiing or someplace warm for the holidays? Maybe cruising the Med? One of them—Otto, I think—owns a big yacht,” Harry said.

“Get on it, people; find out where they are. I’m sure they all have unlisted phone numbers. Someone get Abner in here so he can hack into the records. We need a story line to get them all together. C’mon, c’mon, I want you all to think. Time is of the essence.”

Almost exactly an hour later, it was Maggie who came up with the best idea. They all listened as she expounded on it, their eyes wide as Maggie slammed her gold shield down in front of her, then looked around. “We pretend we’re FBI or CIA. We call the big guy, Otto, and tell him we need to get the three of them together at some designated spot because there is a terrorist threat on their company, and if you don’t like the word
terrorist,
come up with something better. We call, but we’re standing right outside the door when we do it, so he can’t alert anyone else except his siblings. We can get the protocol from Bert and Sparrow. You know, how all that is done, so we don’t screw it up. We dress like FBI: dark suits, shades, high and tight haircuts like the military, speakers in our sleeves and collars, aviator sunglasses. We waltz them out the door to an unmarked van and take them to wherever we want to go to . . . um . . . finish them off.”

“I’m okay with everything but cutting my hair,” Harry said.

“I don’t have a gold shield,” Dennis said.

“Where are we going to take them?” Espinosa asked. “And how are we going to get them extracted? Did anyone call Snowden?”

“I’ll call Snowden in a minute. I was thinking of the farm. Annie and Myra left for Vegas very early this morning, before the weather got so bad, so there’s no one there. Bert told me when I called him earlier in the day. He said they would be wheels down by late morning, and the plan is for them to stay until the New Year. And Myra’s dogs are at Nellie’s. The place is empty. The farm, I’m thinking, is our safest bet. Anyone disagree?” Jack said.

No one disagreed, but Abner did have a question. “If they find out, then what?”

“Then we deal with it at that time. Right now, we can’t worry about that. Aside from Nikki being my wife, she is also Myra’s adopted daughter. I don’t think Myra will kick up too much of a fuss with us taking care of business for Nikki. I grant you, they are going to be seriously ticked off, but that’s for another day. And, anyway, their biggest complaint will probably be that we didn’t include them in this enterprise. Did you get anything, Abner?”

“I need another hour and I’ll have some very serious information to contribute. Can I get back to work?”

“
Go!
” Jack bellowed. “Okay, we now have a plan,” he said, gleefully smacking his hands together. “Nice work, Maggie.

“Okay, Dennis, here is your first job. I want you to get Ted and Espinosa’s measurements, then go to Brooks Brothers and get them each a suit that screams FBI. Pick up two pairs of aviator glasses, some gizmos from RadioShack, so they can talk into their sleeves, and any other shit you think they might need. Chop chop, kid. Every minute from here on in counts. On second thought, pick up a suit for yourself. I’m thinking three agents is better than two. Oh, and go to a gun shop and pick up some under-the-arm holsters. We can get guns from Myra’s house. Did I forget anything? Why are you still standing here?”

“Wait a minute,” Dennis said. “I thought we were going to get shoulder holsters and guns from Bert and Sparrow in Vegas. Or did I miss something, and there was a change in plans?”

“No, you’re right, Dennis. I’m beginning to think I would forget my head if it weren’t on my shoulders. Forget about the holsters,” Jack said.

“Should I get a high and tight haircut while I’m out?”

Jack grinned. “See, kid, now you’re thinking. Absolutely. Ted and Espinosa will go for theirs tomorrow.”

“So, then, it’s three pairs of aviator glasses?”

“Yeah, Dennis, three. No, wait a minute. Make it five, just in case we decide that everyone other than Harry, who is too well-known, and Abner needs to join the FBI.”

Cyrus whooped with delight when Dennis let out a long whoop of his own.

“Oh boy oh boy, we could go to the federal pen for impersonating FBI officers. Jeez, this is exciting.”

“Subdued suits, Dennis,” Ted called out.

“Nothing flashy, but cut well,” Espinosa shouted.

“I got it, I got it! Okay, I’m outta here.”

“Hold on, Dennis, I’ll give you a ride. I have to check in at the paper. See you guys. Be back in a flash,” Maggie said.

Jack let his gaze go to the far wall, to the Jasper Johns painting. He glared at it before he got back to work.
I’m doing it, Nik. I’m gonna make it work for you. I never break a promise. We’re going to make this right. Or die trying
, he added as an afterthought, hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

It was shortly after four the following afternoon when several things happened. Nikki called Jack to tell him that her flight was still grounded and that they were saying the airports were not scheduled to open till the following day, December 28. As the gang converged on the conference room to impart what information they had gleaned, the high-tech smartphones everyone carried started beeping a weather bulletin about the nor’easter headed up the Eastern Seaboard.

Jack clicked his phone off and said, “At least the girls are safe on the ground,” more to Espinosa than anyone else. Espinosa’s face showed relief. “And since there is nothing we can do about the storm, we’ll just have to ride it out. We have cots here and enough food so we can cope with anything. Plus, we have the Bagel Emporium across the street. It might be a good idea to call over there and place a to-go order when we finish up with what we have to do here. Now, let’s get down to business. Show me what you have.”

“Quite a bit, actually,” Ted said. “I took the social side of Otto Andover, and Espinosa took the business end. The short version is the guy is a prick in every way that you can imagine. I’m not sure I’ve ever run across a more thoroughly objectionable character than dear old Otto. He is, of course, the oldest of the three siblings. He squeaked through college by paying people to do his research papers and taking his tests whenever he thought that plain old cribbing from someone’s exam would not work. He cheats at golf and poker. I got all of this from several people who know him. Apparently, to know him is to despise him. My cover story was that the paper was thinking of naming him Man of the Year. That went over like a lead balloon, and all three guys I spoke to told me that they would cancel their subscriptions to the
Post
if we did that. No respect, no love, no admiration.

“He married well, has three children, two boys and a girl. Nothing that could be substantiated about any extramarital affairs. All his kids live in the Virginia area. None of the kids work at the company. The two boys are partners in a software consulting firm and doing quite well, with incomes in the middle six figures. The girl married her childhood sweetheart, who is a heart surgeon. Otto does appear to dote on the two grandkids. That seems to be as warm and fuzzy as he gets. But from what I could learn, he does not spend all that much time with them, considering that they both live so close.

“The man is a power-hungry egotist who loves to be the center of attention. Not surprisingly, he rules with an iron fist, holding people to standards that he himself has never been able to meet his entire life. His motto is, No One Is Irreplaceable. He has plaques and signs all over the building to drive his point home.

“He is not close with his two siblings, or even with his two sons. I get the impression that his son-in-law cannot stand him, so Otto and his daughter rarely see each other. I had to piece together comments, stuff in our archives, and, of course, the comments from the three guys I talked with to come up with that assessment.

“Otto donates a lot of money to charitable causes and loves to get his picture in the papers. I’m afraid that Abner will have to crack into their computers because I couldn’t really find out anything concerning Nikki’s case—you know, internal memos, settlements, those kinds of things. Oh, and the guy likes to sail. He has his captain’s license and loves to dress up in the cap, double-breasted blue blazer, and white duck pants. Very snazzy. I don’t know how Andover put a lid on all that, but they did. The class-action lawsuit, I mean,” he clarified.

Then it was Espinosa’s turn. “Okay, here goes: Not only does Otto own a sailboat but he or the company owns a yacht as well. A really big one. He only invites high rollers, people who somehow, someway, can help him feather his nest. I found at least fifty pictures of him attired in his yachting gear. Quite the dashing gentleman, as Ted mentioned. The company also owns a helicopter and a Gulfstream. The guy jets all over the place and takes the helicopter up to New York, sometimes two or three times a week. He has an American Express Black Card.” Espinosa looked down at his notes. “But now it’s called the Centurion Card, is made of titanium, and there is no limit on it. I’d like to see an audit done on that guy, as well as one on the company.”

“Speaking of audits,” Ted interjected, “one of Otto’s friends—and I use that term very loosely since he seems to have no real friends—said that the sister, Martha, is the chief financial officer and is the one who has direct control over the money, not Otto.

“He told me that a long time ago—he thinks maybe as long as fifteen years ago—something went down in the family. He was quick to say it was only a rumor, something that was just whispered about, but he was convinced that it was interesting enough to pay attention to. Something about Martha threatening him if he didn’t give in and make her the CFO,” Ted said.

“What was the rumor?” Dennis asked.

“He was kind of reluctant to share that, kid. But by being the astute investigative reporter that I am, I deduced that quite possibly there is a child out there who was born on the other side of the blanket and might have a claim on Otto’s share of the company.

“I know, I know, I said there was no indication there were any infidelities, but as the guy said, where there is smoke, there is fire, and old Otto has the bucks to hush anything up. Can we prove any of that? Not right now, at least. That’s pretty much it, unless Espinosa has anything else.”

“I don’t have anything else, but I did download all the pictures, and we can look at them later.”

Jack looked at Maggie. “You’re up, Maggie. What do you have on Philip Andover?”

“Not a whole lot, Jack. Philip is, I guess, what you would call the black sheep—or would that be the white sheep?—of this family, but in a nice way. He appears to be a gentle, soft-spoken family man. He’s a bit of a dreamer. Plays in chess tournaments, takes family vacations, likes to bird-watch. Has four daughters, all married, all with careers. One write-up said that the four all speak daily, no matter where they are or what they’re doing. He’s not into material things, the way his brother and sister are. His wife is a master gardener. He goes to church regularly and tithes. He has three dogs and two cats. The wife drives a Chevy Blazer, he drives a five-year-old Saab. The whole family likes to fish, and until the girls got married, they would go fishing just about every weekend. He and his wife still do. They rent a boat. He’s not a fashion plate and usually looks rumpled, and from time to time he forgets to get a haircut. He’s in charge of development at the company. Couldn’t come up with a single negative on him, but my nose tells me that what appears on the surface is too good to be true.

“The few interviews I was able to bring up have the people working under him saying what a kind, thoughtful boss he is. I couldn’t find a single thing where he was directly involved with either Otto or his sister. He works in his own little area and leaves the rest to them. It took me all day to come up with this.”

“He has to know about the drug if he’s in development,” Harry said.

All eyes turned to Abner. “I’m on it. If you guys don’t need me, then how about I go back to work?”

“Go!” Jack said.

Abner literally ran from the room.

“Maggie, you want to place a dinner order with Ding? I’m all for pulling an all-nighter if you guys agree. Time is of the essence here, unless any of you has to leave.”

“I’d like to take a run home to check on Yoko and Lily, if you don’t mind. I can either come back or stay home and return in the morning. My time is yours, what with the dojo closed this week,” Harry said.

“Play it by ear, Harry. Just out of curiosity, where does Yoko think you go when you leave?”

Harry laughed. “The Pentagon. I’ll leave after I hear what Dennis has to say, so I can be mulling this all over while I’m home.”

Jack looked over at Dennis and said, “Let’s hear it, kid.”

Dennis looked around the room. “Well, Martha Andover Gellis is a mean, mean woman. I know this is not nice to say, but she is not even one little bit attractive. She’s overweight. She’s a tyrant and cracks a mean whip. She wants everything done yesterday or the day before. I found an article in an accounting magazine; she’s a CPA, by the way. Anyway, some accounting student hoping for a good grade wangled an interview with her and some of the people who work for her. Two of the people she interviewed were let go at some point after the interview took place for what Gellis described as
goofing off.
I called the magazine, got the number for the student who did the interview, and she gave me the name of the two people fired, and I was able to talk to both of them.

“Boy, man oh man, talk about deep hatred. If those people had their way, Mrs. Andover Gellis would be spending the rest of her life in a small room being tortured in every way possible.”

Dennis looked around to make sure he had a rapt audience. He did. “One of the people who was let go said she was Gellis’s personal slave. A gofer, but she still had to keep up with her job at the company, and it was too much. She said she never left the building before nine at night and had to be in at seven. No overtime. And Gellis fought the girl’s unemployment, which she did not get in the end. Like Otto Andover, she motivates people exclusively by using the fear factor. All this went down when the economy tanked, and people needed their jobs. The second person she fired was a man who had been with the company twelve years. He told me on the phone that the only reason he lasted so long was that he kept his head down and just did whatever she said. That worked until he had a serious operation; he had to have a kidney removed. She wanted him back at work right away, and his doctor said no. She fought his disability, but she lost that round. He now works from home doing medical billing and is as happy as a clam to be out from under her control. Unfortunately, the money is not as good as what he was making at Andover.

“He said that she’s just plain evil and doesn’t do a damn thing to hide the fact. He also said that when the first lawsuit on the drug was filed, the three Andovers had so many private meetings that he couldn’t keep up with them. He said that for some odd reason she lived in fear that she would be held personally responsible for the Anmir fiasco, which she insisted was all Otto’s doing because he was so greedy. She tells everyone who will listen that they should have just come clean and discontinued the drug when the first problems arose.

“Now, here is the best part: This guy—whose name, by the way, is Jamie Farrell—said he took some records with him when he left. He said he didn’t know why he took them, he just did. And guess what they were? Anyone?”

Dennis looked around at his audience, enjoying the spotlight. When no one ventured a guess, he continued, “They were the settlement agreements with the children’s parents, the four children who died, that’s what they were. He said he would turn them over to us if we needed them, as long as we didn’t say where we got them.

“I just sent him a text message and asked him to fax everything to us. I said we did need them and promised him money. Told him a very generous check would go in the mail today. Tomorrow now, I guess. He deserves it; he has a family to support and he’s just getting by. He didn’t ask, I volunteered. Jamie said that once the decision was made to sweep everything under the rug, Gellis fought Otto, saying he was paying too much to the families, that they could have paid out half the amount to secure their silence, to which Otto responded that that kind of thinking was why he was the CEO and not her.

“The siblings only speak when it is absolutely necessary. There are two armed camps within the company, each with its own spies. And even Philip, though a noncombatant, has his spies to keep tabs on the other two. They’re all mentally ill,” Dennis said, disgust ringing in his voice.

“Are you saying she is the one who actually makes payments but only on Otto’s say-so? That he has to approve all expenditures other than for routine things?” Harry asked.

“Yep. And Gellis hates it. She’s under his thumb. And it isn’t just that he has control that she hates. She also hates Otto himself, Jamie said. I’m not sure what her feelings are for Philip. Jamie did say she referred to Philip as Mr. Switzerland and even called him Swiss behind his back. Meaning, of course, that Switzerland is neutral, and so is Philip. Nonetheless, as I said, he has his spies, too, so he has to know what the other two are doing. It’s just that he doesn’t make waves, stays out of the limelight.”

The front door buzzed. Everyone looked up until Maggie said, “It’s Ding with our food. Be right back.” She was as good as her word, returning carrying two shopping bags.

“Harry, you might want to think again about leaving. It’s really snowing out there, and the wind is starting to gust something terrible. Call Yoko to see if you absolutely have to leave. You came on your motorcycle, and that’s not good,” Maggie said.

“You can take my car, Harry, if you have to leave,” Jack said.

Harry held out his hand for Jack’s keys. And that was the end of that.