As Michael approached the table, Vinnie slid across the vinyl seat and stood.
“Hey, brother,” Vinnie exuded, and enveloped Michael in a brotherly hug. He too was dressed to the nines, with even more panache than his Yamaguchi-gumi guest. Whereas Saboru had a carefully folded dark brown pocket square in his jacket’s breast pocket, Vinnie had a wildly colorful Cartier silk that billowed out with an explosion of color.
With his arm still draped over Michael’s shoulders, Vinnie tapped Saboru on the arm to get his attention. “Hey, psycho! Mikey’s here,” Vinnie said. He and Saboru had spent significant time together as their business relationship had blossomed, and Vinnie had come to use the word psycho versus saiko from saiko-komon, as humorous wordplay. Saboru found it entertaining, once it had been explained to him.
Saboru stood, quickly bowed, and gave Michael a business card. Michael took the card after a quick, awkward bow and dispensed one of his own. Back at his desk in his office, he had a collection of Saboru’s cards.
“Sit down, sit down!” Vinnie repeated to Michael but then remembered Carol. “Listen, sweetie, we have to talk business. How about you sit with the men for a little while.” He gestured to the group at the next booth.
“I want to sit with you people,” Carol whined.
“Carol, dear,” Vinnie said slowly, without raising his voice, “I said how about you sit at the next table.”
Michael felt the hackles on the back of his neck rise. Vinnie had a short-fuse temper and a penchant to be violent. For a few moments Vinnie and Carol stared each other down. The entire room was silent until Carol wisely relented and slid out from the table. With a pouty expression and a petulant air she changed tables. The moment she did so, conversation returned to the room.
“Please,” Vinnie said, gesturing for both of his guests to sit. As if by magic, a waiter appeared and asked Michael what he preferred to drink, gesturing to an open bottle of Sassicaia, Vinnie’s favorite, and then at an ice bucket containing a pinot grigio and a bottle of San Pellegrino.
“So what’s the good news?” Vinnie questioned once Michael had his wine and water. When it came to business, Vinnie was impatient. He didn’t mind small talk, but it was for after business, not before.
Leaning over toward Vinnie and in a voice that suggested importance, Michael said, “Yesterday an exclusive agreement was signed with Satoshi Machita for iPS cells.”
For a moment there was silence. Vinnie and Michael merely stared at each other. The only sounds in the room were from those at the neighboring table, who were busily entertaining Carol. Back when Michael had first explained iPS USA to Vinnie, he’d gone into great detail about the unbelievable promise of stem cells and the regrettable entanglement that the promising science and fledgling industry had encountered with the highly emotional abortion issue. He then explained how induced stem cells skirted the issue. Aware of Vinnie’s innate intelligence, Michael had also explained the patent issues involving stem cells and how important it would be to control the big patents. It was Vinnie who finally broke the silence.
“And it’s this iPS cell patent that’s going to be the mother of all patents?”
“That’s what Ben Corey believes, and the guy’s a genius who wants to control regenerative medicine.”
“And we’ll be right there with him,” Vinnie proclaimed.
“Right there,” Michael agreed.
Vinnie picked up his glass of wine and held it out to the others. He had a wry smile on his face. “I never knew that it was health care where all the real money was. First hospitals and now biotech. I love it.”
They all clinked classes and drank.
Vinnie turned to Saboru. “I told you this guy was great,” he said, nodding toward Michael.
“Thank you!” Saboru said several times, nodding first toward Michael and then toward Vinnie.
“Now I want to bring up another subject,” Michael said, putting down his wineglass and moving forward on his seat as if he was about to tell a secret. “I met with Dr. Corey just this morning. With the new contract signed, the market value of the company will soar. There’s no telling what its value will be. On top of that, this morning he confided in me that there is a new company that controls a patent for a process that will speed up the production efficiency of making induced stem cells. He’s interested in either acquiring the company or, at the very least, exclusively licensing its intellectual property. The question is, do either of you want to acquire more equity before the IPO? If so, this would be the time.”
There were questions from both Vinnie and Saboru, which Michael fielded, cleverly honing his client’s interest so that if Ben wanted or needed more equity, it would be immediately available.
After an interruption with the waiter coming to take their lunch orders, Michael then broached the third, last, and most sensitive subject on his agenda — namely, Ben’s interest in distancing iPS USA from their respective organizations. When he finished and fell silent, he could sense a change in mood. Clearly both Vinnie and Saboru were not pleased, feeling blindsided by the issue’s even being broached.
“It’s rather late for Dr. Corey to feel he’s not interested in our help,” Saboru said. It was Saboru who’d engineered the theft of the lab books from Kyoto University and getting Satoshi and his family from Japan through Honolulu to New York City, the same route he used for drugs and child porn.
“I agree,” Vinnie said in that particularly calm voice that Michael feared and that all too often presaged a temper tantrum of one sort or another.
“There is no disrespect intended here,” Michael quickly added. “It is only something that Dr. Corey feels will be in the best interest of the company if and when the company goes public. If such association were to suggest itself during any due diligence, the company would probably have to cancel the IPO to avoid a full SEC investigation.”
“He knows that the Lucia holdings are held secure under a series of shell companies, does he not?” Vinnie questioned.
“Of course he does,” Michael added quickly to defuse the situation, “and he’s tremendously thankful for what you gentlemen have done for the company. He even mentioned that some significant additional equity would be involved to recognize your special contributions if it comes to that.”
At that point Michael felt as if he’d been saved, as several waiters burst from the kitchen with a wide variety of steaming pastas for the first course. Relieved, Michael sat back and took in a deep breath. From his perspective the downside of dealing with criminal organizations is that one always felt as if he was standing on the edge of a precipice.
9
March 25, 2010
Thursday, 1:05 p.m.
Louie Barbera took the chair that had just been vacated at the very end of the visiting room at the Rikers Island visitors center. He’d been there about a half-dozen times over the years to visit Paulie Cerino, the capo he’d replaced when Paulie had been sent to prison more than a decade previously. Louie had visited mostly to ask specific questions about specific people or events, since it was difficult to take over someone else’s operation, especially when that person was expected to return. Like in all businesses, even illegal ones, consistency was important.
Louie’s visits to Paulie had grown less frequent over the years, as Louie became more familiar with Queens and its characters and specific challenges. But now Louie was at a loss. He had no idea what to do about the situation with Hideki Shimoda, and especially Vinnie Dominick, Paulie’s old archrival. It was like a balancing game over a cauldron of molten lava. One slip and everybody might fall in.