Perfect, Wilson remembered saying to himself. It’s time for a frontal attack. “So, when are you going to begin using your wealth to make the weak more powerful or teach your clients to become less cutthroat and more inclusive? And for what it’s worth, I don’t think making big donations to Harvard is going to make much of a difference.” Wilson cringed as he replayed the dialogue in his head. He’d been such a smartass.
“Wilson. This is not…” his mother began before his father cut her off.
“What makes you think I’m not already doing more than making charitable donations?” his father said defensively.
“What exactly are you doing?” Wilson asked, unwilling to let his father off the hook. “The fact is most capitalists don’t want to change things because they need the slaves.”
“That’s enough, Wilson,” his mother said decisively. “It’s Christmas. Rachel and I are not interested in sitting here while you and your father have another one of your jousting sessions.”
“Your mother’s right,” his father said. “It’s time to lighten the conversation. The snow is falling and our new hot tub is beckoning. However, I will say one more thing in response to your questions. Fielder amp; Company is in the process of launching a rather novel approach to humanizing capitalism. But you need to give me a decade or so to see if it works. If it does, we may finally overcome the generations of concealed corruption that have created our current version of capitalism. If it doesn’t, you may have to pick up the pieces.” His father smiled, looking as if he wanted to say more but then decided against it. His intense blue-green eyes suddenly softened. “Who’s ready to hit the hot tub?”
“I am,” Rachel squealed, as only fourteen-year-old girls can.
That was the end of the now troubling conversation. Wilson had questioned his father about it on numerous occasions after that, but his father only responded in vague terms, usually saying something like ‘We’re still working on it’. Then he’d typically shift the conversation to why it was difficult, but never impossible, to change deeply entrenched and widely accepted systems. I should have pressed harder, much harder, Wilson thought. But at the time, he was leaving for Princeton and his own fight against the abuse of power.
Wilson returned to considering his options for attacking the secret partnership. He continued to favor an infiltration strategy, assuming he could convince the secret partnership that it would be safer to bring him inside. Regardless of which strategy he ultimately pursued, picking up the pieces of his father’s life had become his reality and that meant figuring out how his father planned to use his secret insiders club to humanize capitalism. The lives of his loved ones, his father’s reputation, and his and Emily’s future depended on it.
Over the next few days, Wilson was so thoroughly absorbed with planning his attack or reassuring Emily that he’d completely missed the two Wall Street Journal articles on the J. B. Musselman Company and his old antagonist David Quinn. When a colleague at Kresge amp; Company emailed him about the articles, he immediately accessed the stories online and read with rapt interest.
David Quinn had managed to pull off another turnaround, but Wilson knew it wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, the Musselman roll-up would unravel. He was sure of it. Wayland Tate must have found a way to appease Musselman’s Chairman James MacMillan. Wilson had never believed in Tate’s strategy of going head-to-head with Costco and Sam’s Club, but Tate was extremely persuasive. Wilson had known that for years, ever since they first met at White Horse when Wilson was a boy. He remembered his father’s introduction of Tate as the most brilliant advertising executive of his generation. Tate and his father had shared common clients over the years. Was he part of the secret partnership? Wilson made a mental note to ask Carter about him, but right now he had his hands full.
Since Sunday, Emily had continued her attempts to dissuade him from his course of action, so when she entered the belfry library, he prepared himself for another lengthy discussion.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you may be right about the path forward. But it scares me to death. I don’t want to lose us,” Emily said as her large brown eyes glistened.
Wilson’s heart immediately filled with gratitude and empathy. “There’s nothing I want more than a life with you, no matter where we live or how crazy our schedules get. I never want to live without you again. Never. But we can’t live in constant fear that some paranoid member of a secret society might one day decide to take us out, just because we represent a potential risk. We can’t live that way,” he said, reaching over and running his fingers through her blonde curls.
“You’re right. I just…”
Wilson placed his finger on her lips and then kissed them gently. “I promise not to take any unnecessary risks. If it gets too dicey, we’ll go to the authorities. I promise,” he said, putting his arms around her.
“Thank you,” she said, holding him tightly.
“Trust me. There’s no death wish here. Not when I have you. And I have been listening to you. If the KaneWeller merger goes through, we may have no choice but to involve the FBI immediately.”
She squeezed him as tight as she could, desiring never to let go of him. “I love you, Wilson,” she said as she took Wilson by the hand. “I think it’s time for something less stressful.”
Later that night as Wilson was lying in bed next to Emily, Bill Heinke called to inform him that KaneWeller had decided to withdraw from the merger with Fielder amp; Company. “We can challenge it, if you choose,” Heinke said with a voice that sounded either reluctant or weary.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll be taking Fielder amp; Company off the market for now,” Wilson said, looking over at Emily with eyes that said I’m sorry. Emily got up from the bed and went to the bathroom.
“I understand,” Heinke said in a low serious voice. “Liquidation of all non-Fielder amp; Company holdings is now fifty percent complete. We should be able to finish almost everything within two weeks. Some of the real estate holdings will take longer.”
UBS had been providing Wilson with daily encrypted updates on proceeds from the ongoing liquidation, which were immediately reinvested through concealed accounts. Daniel had set up the reinvestment structure and strategy, so he wasn’t worried, but he did want to find out how involved Bill Heinke had been with Fielder amp; Company.
“Fine,” Wilson said. “Were you able to find the missing files?”
“Not yet,” Heinke was curt, offering no explanation.
“In the wrong hands, that information could cause a lot of problems.”
“We are acutely aware of Fielder amp; Company’s exposure and have contracted the necessary resources to find the missing files. We remain optimistic. In the event that the missing files are not recovered, however, we are prepared to indemnify Fielder amp; Company against any and all resulting damages. We’ve already discussed the issue at length with Atlas Casualty and Surety. They provide our catastrophic insurance coverage. $1.2 billion in potential damages has already been preapproved.”
Wilson thanked Heinke and replaced the phone in its cradle. He’d said enough about the missing files to Heinke. If he was a member of the secret partnership, he’d alert his cohorts. If he wasn’t a member, then the conversation served to make sure there were no missteps by his firm regarding anything that had to do with the Fielder family. Wilson knew that his first moves against the secret partnership would have to come in the next few days, and they’d have to be the right moves. There would be no second chances.