The chairman looked up from the document. “This gives you extraordinarily broad and deep powers in the operation of the various companies and us very little oversight.”
“That is quite true,” Macher said, “and that is in line with the way Mr. St. Clair ran the enterprises and wished to have them run in the event of his death, is it not, Mr. Berenson?” Macher had met with Berenson earlier and acquired his cooperation, in return for the continuation of his firm’s handling of all the enterprises’ legal work.
“It is entirely in line with both Mr. St. Clair’s past practices and his wishes for the enterprises to continue to be operated,” Berenson said.
The chairman shifted in his seat. “It also says that the board will serve at the pleasure of the CEO and that he will appoint replacements as necessary.”
“It does,” Macher replied. “I would like to mention that I have no plans to change the way the board is presently made up or has operated in the past.”
That caused a few wrinkles to disappear from the chairman’s forehead.
“Or in the board’s compensation,” Macher added. He could see on their faces that that had done the trick.
“I second the motion,” the chairman said, “and I call for it to be passed by acclamation.”
“Hear! Hear!” the four said in unison.
“Thank you for your expression of confidence, gentlemen,” Macher said. “There is no further business at this time, but we will meet again in accordance with the existing schedule of board meetings.” That was annually. “I should tell you that, in the interests of efficiency, I shall be occupying this house and conducting business from this room, when I am in New York. Since Mr. St. Clair’s will left all his residences and other possessions to St. Clair Enterprises, I shall also be using them as necessary.” This, of course, included the yacht, but he didn’t mention it. “Is there any further business, gentlemen?”
“There is the question of your own compensation and benefits package,” the chairman said.
“Mr. Berenson’s firm is working on that as we speak, and he will see that you are notified when the work is complete.”
“That is so,” Berenson said.
“Then if there are no other matters before us, this meeting is concluded. Thank you for your continued work and cooperation, gentlemen.” He stood, causing them to stand as well, and after shaking hands, they filed out. Berenson, as previously agreed, remained.
“Thank you, Tommy,” Macher said. “I thought that went very well.”
“So did I, Erik.”
“You may now send the prepared letters to all the operating officers of the various enterprises, and the general letter to all employees, including the staffs of the properties, and the crews of the yacht, the helicopter, and the fleet of aircraft. I think it’s important that everyone understand that, for purposes of continuity and morale, a new regime is now in place.”
“I agree entirely, Erik,” Berenson said. “They will all go out by FedEx within the hour.”
“Incidentally, Tommy, you may prepare a letter from me doubling your personal salary as counsel with immediate effect, and I will sign it upon receipt.”
“Thank you for that expression of your confidence, Erik.”
Macher handed him a sheet of paper. “Here is a list of all credit accounts previously available only to Christian, which should be notified that I am now the sole signatory. There is also my bank account number, to which my signing bonus and my first year’s salary should be deposited, and a list of credit cards for the bank to issue to me and my secretary.”
“Of course. I’ll see that the signing bonus is deposited today.”
The signing bonus was twenty-five million dollars, and Macher’s salary was ten million dollars a year, plus an unlimited expense account. “Thank you, and I expect we’ll talk soon.”
The two men shook hands, and Berenson departed.
Macher walked to the new desk that had replaced the previous one destroyed in the explosion and began unpacking the boxes that he had had sent from his office in D.C., which included his files and personal photographs. He placed his belongings in the appropriate drawers and arrayed the sterling-silver-framed photographs on the new credenza behind him.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in!”
His secretary entered the room. “I saw that the board had left,” she said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Are you quite comfortable in your new rooms upstairs, Hilda?”
“Yes, sir, they are very nice.”
“Your salary increase will be in effect from this day, and new credit cards have been ordered for you. You may open an account with the company’s bank today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Macher. I’m very pleased to be working with you in New York.”
“I am pleased, too, Hilda.”
She left, and Macher leaned back in his new chair and placed his feet on his desk. He had never felt so good. Things could not have gone better if he had planned St. Clair’s death himself.
4
Stone called Ed Rawls and invited him to dinner.
“Thanks, I could use the break,” Ed replied. “Unpacking is a bitch.”
“See you at six?”
“You’re on.”
Stone let himself into Dick Stone’s secret office, behind a panel, and checked for messages and faxes. He had just come out and locked the door behind him when the front doorbell rang. He went to answer it and found a small woman wearing a headset and carrying a microphone. Behind her stood a man carrying a portable TV camera.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Barrington. I’m Tina Charles from NBC news. You’re a hard man to find — we’ve been driving all over the island looking for your house.”
“I must remember to conceal it better,” Stone said.
“May I come in for a moment? I have just a few questions for you.”
“You may not. I have no wish to be interviewed.”
“May I point out that, if you speak to me exclusively that will greatly lessen the curiosity of other media outlets, and there are many who wish to speak with you.”
“How did you get to the island?”
“The station has a helicopter. We landed right after the NYPD chopper, but we didn’t have a car and lost you while we were arranging for one.”
“I’ll give you five minutes,” Stone said.
The woman came in and briefly surveyed the room. “You’ll sit there,” she said, pointing at a chair, “and I’ll sit opposite you in the other chair.” She began moving the two chairs to positions she liked. “Okay, Bernie?” she asked the cameraman.
“Aces,” the man replied. “Light is good.”
She clipped a tiny wireless microphone to Stone’s shirt collar. “Give me a level,” she ordered.
Stone counted slowly to five.
“Level is good,” the cameraman said.
“And sit.” She took his wrist and towed him to the chair, and they both sat down. She took off her headset and dropped it beside the chair, then fluffed her hair with both hands and freshened her lipstick.
Stone watched, increasingly bored. Then it occurred to him that he should seem alert on camera and, if possible, engaged. He made an effort to brighten his mien.
“Now,” Tina said. “Title. This is Tina Charles at the Maine home of Mr. Stone Barrington. We’re on.” She stated the date and time. “Mr. Barrington, there have been many rumors floating around about your involvement in the deaths of the billionaire Christian St. Clair and his political protégé, Nelson Knott.”
“Hold it right there,” Stone said, raising a hand. “I had no involvement whatever in their deaths. I met them only once each.”