“Well”-Turner waved a hand-“maybe the urgency is relative. But I thought it would be worthwhile if you and I, first, came together on a consistent game plan for this reward idea, which basically I like, and then talked a little about strategy for the succession at Sunset, which is going to be a huge deal.”
“Don’t I know,” Sanchez said.
“Yes, I’m sure you do. But first things first, huh?”
“Always. So what do you have?”
Turner put his fork down. “Nancy Neshek called me as soon as she’d gotten off the phone with Lorraine. What Nancy understands, and you I’m sure, while perhaps Lorraine doesn’t, is what a great fund-raising opportunity this reward scenario is for all of us.” He lowered his voice and leaned in over the table. “Here’s Dominic Como, fallen hero, champion of the people. Every organization where he’s on the board-that’s yours and Nancy’s and at least three others I could name-we announce we’re ponying up ‘x’ number of dollars for the reward. It’s going to be a city-wide, concerted effort to find his killer, because the police have run out of leads. But, you’re asking, aren’t these charities running on lean budgets anyway? Where’s all that money going to come from?”
For Sanchez, the picture suddenly snapped into sharp focus. “Our generous contributors.”
“Right. We make a special, one-time appeal for emergency funds to cover the reward we’re offering. So we commit, let’s say, a couple of hundred grand between us, maybe more-it doesn’t really matter, chump change, whatever it turns out to be. We print up special pledge cards, get ’em out to your mailing lists and into the community, make a pitch on TV. It could easily bring in two, three million, maybe more.”
The number lit up Sanchez’s eyes. This was the kind of plan that could make the nonprofit world so incredibly lucrative. Turner was proposing that he and Nancy Neshek and a few other executives could invest thirty or forty thousand dollars each on the reward and its attendant publicity, and conceivably bring in a million or more each for their efforts. And that wasn’t even including private foundation and grant money, which-given Dominic Como’s personal connections with these groups-Sanchez thought would flow like water.
Never mind that none of the charities might ever actually have to pay a cent of that reward, since it was far from a certainty that anyone could provide the information that would lead to an arrest in the Como case. Nevertheless, this one-time, special fund-raising campaign would raise money that no one in the real world would ever audit or follow up on in any way. This was because once they gave, contributors simply tended to assume that the funds would be used either for the express purpose of the campaign, or to buttress another needy area in the charity’s charter.
“This is one of those ‘opportunity knocks’ moments, Jimi. We’ll want to get this reward up and posted as soon as we can.”
Sanchez brought a hand up to his mouth, placed two fingers on his lips against the urge to smile. “Of course,” he said. “That goes without saying. I was going to put up twenty-five, same as Sunset.”
“That sounds about right. Nancy’s in at that level too. And I’m sure I can talk to a couple of other colleagues and get the total up to over a hundred, which is about the minimum we’ll need for credibility. As soon as we get to that number, I thought I’d announce the press conference, put things in motion. Then we can sit back and just watch the money start to pour in.”
Sanchez went back to the buffet for dessert, and sat down again across from Turner with a wedge of cheesecake and a brownie sitting under a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Both men waited while their coffees were refilled, and then Sanchez waded into the turbulent waters of the succession question at the Sunset Youth Project. “I realize that there’ll be an open evaluation and hiring process, Len, but I don’t think anyone could object to my qualifications. I’ve been running Mission for seven years. I’d be a logical and natural choice.”
Turner dabbed his lips with his napkin. “Well, that’s what we need to discuss, Jimi. I’m all for supporting you, and for advancing your candidacy with the board, but there are still some unresolved issues that aren’t so obvious.”
Sanchez clearly hadn’t anticipated this objection from his colleague. His brow went dark. “Like what?”
“Like, first, Lorraine Hess.”
“Pah! She’s-”
But Turner raised a hand, stopping him. “Lorraine Hess is a woman with ten years’ hands-on experience with the nuts-and-bolts stuff, Jim. She knows the place inside out. She’s going to have a good deal of support from the board. And she’s made no secret of the fact that she’s going to want to be in the running and deserves the job. And did I mention she’s a woman? We’ve never had a woman director. That could prove to be more important than everything else put together.” Len offered half a smile. “You’re damn lucky she’s not black.”
Sanchez was shaking his head. “She’s not executive material, Len. You and I both know it. She’s a worker bee. She’d be best staying where she is. I don’t think she even has a clue what Dominic actually did.”
This brought a tight smile. “Did anybody?”
“I like to think I’ve got a pretty good idea of it.”
While he shoveled a bite of cheesecake and washed it down with some coffee, Turner said, “I’d be interested to hear that. We can look on it as part of your interview process.”
Sanchez swallowed. “Fair enough,” he said. “But saying what he did first of all entails what he didn’t do, and that is any actual work with Sunset’s organization. He was just totally above it. Which, by the way, is why Lorraine wouldn’t be any good at his job. There wasn’t really anything to Dominic’s job at all, except to do favors and collect money. I think she’s still under the impression that he actually had some function within the organization, when in fact he didn’t.”
“No. I agree. That was his genius.”
“Call it that if you want. But if some new hire goes waltzing into there thinking he or she’s going to be doing something, as opposed to simply peddling and trading influence, there’s going to be anguish and gnashing of teeth, believe me.”
Now Turner leaned in over the table. “Well, frankly, Jimi, that’s exactly the concern that some of us on the board have about your interest in the job. You have actually been in charge of running your programs day-to-day at Mission, keeping track of your people, mandating profit centers. To use your phrase, you’re a bit of a worker bee yourself.”
Sanchez allowed himself a small nod. “I’ve been biding my time, Len. I’m ready to move up to a new level. I think I’ve paid plenty of dues.”
“And then who takes over your place at Mission?”
“It’s good you asked that. You know that my wife has been in the office and on the payroll almost since the beginning. She’d be the natural choice, I’d think, and would serve to demonstrate our commitment to gender equality.”
Turner sat back with a look of appreciation. “You know, Jimi,” he said, “all this time we’ve worked together and I had no idea you were so ambitious. Those two jobs, yours and Lola’s, they’d bring in what?”
“Round it off to eight hundred.”
“Don’t you think that might draw a little scrutiny?”
Sanchez put down his fork. “I make two hundred now, Len. Lola’s at around one fifty. No one raises their eyebrows. If I move to Sunset and Lola moves up at Mission, no one will even notice. The important thing is that Dominic’s work continues, that our people keep getting elected. And how does that happen? You know how that happens.”
Turner did know.
In fact, as counsel to Sunset, Turner had come to understand the power that Dominic Como had held. Not only did he control the purse strings on his $50 million-per-year budget, he directed those funds to where they could wield the most political influence in the city. For the great secret of the nonprofit community, especially in the incredibly corrupt environment that was San Francisco, was its intimate connection to the political, and hence the business, community.