information to Marco, who made sure he got there first. A day earlier in Lake Forest, using advanced surveillance detection equipment developed in Israel, Marco had found a nearly surveillance-free corridor, giving him access to the Lake House. Twilight had provided cover as he made his way onto the estate. Once outside the house, he found Jackson Ebbs. In a single blow to the temple, he rendered Ebbs unconscious and then administered an injection of concentrated alcohol before pouring Jim Beam down his throat. After disabling the security system, he entered the den.
Quinn pushed his chair backward, “How did you get in here?”
Marco said nothing as he went to the desk and retrieved the Super 38 from the drawer.
Just as Quinn made a lunge at the intruder, Marco jammed the Super 38 into Quinn’s mouth and pulled the trigger.
The deafening blast was the last thing Quinn heard.
Marco disappeared the way he’d entered, thirty seconds before FBI Agent Sylvester found David Quinn’s body lying on the floor in the den, the back of his head splattered across the wall and credenza.
37
Wilson — Charter Jet G650, Inflight
Midway over the Atlantic, Wilson called an ad-hoc executive staff meeting to evaluate the whirlwind tour and its expected impact on the firm. It was six o’clock in the evening London time, but on board the G650 it was time for someone to swallow the bait he’d been dangling all week. Everyone turned their chairs toward the center of the aircraft, so they could face each other. The six vice presidents seemed anxious to talk, although most of them looked tired from the week’s arduous schedule. After a few words of praise and appreciation for their efforts, Wilson opened the meeting to general comments and feedback.
Not surprisingly, Joel Spivey, Mr. Human Resources, started it off.
“I think the response to your leadership has been extremely positive. Headquarters has received numerous calls and emails expressing appreciation for the tour. I think it’s laid the perfect foundation for your future here.”
“I agree,” Frank O’Connor added in his pleasant, therapist-like voice. “Your five initiatives have created a lot of excitement.”
“They’ve also created a lot of high expectations,” Leigh Tennyson cautioned, seemingly hard-wired to anticipate change issues. “If we don’t show real progress on your initiatives within ninety days, the tour will become an obstacle, not a foundation.”
“Absolutely,” Wilson said, smiling at her. She was refreshingly candid and non-apologetic. He liked her more every time he listened to her.
“I must say, I have some concerns about the marketing and publicity initiative,” John Malouf said.
Silence filled the plane’s cabin. The rushing air and hum of the Rolls-Royce engines grew louder. Everyone seemed to sense this criticism was coming.
Malouf continued, “I have no problem supporting our consultants in their writing and publishing activities, but the wrong kind of publicity campaign could backfire.”
Here we go, Wilson thought. It was now clear that Malouf’s earlier comments about publicizing Fielder amp; Company’s furtiveness belied his opposition. Maybe Tennyson’s comment had made him anxious, Wilson thought. More likely, the partnership was forcing his hand. Either way, Wilson decided it was time to freshen the bait. “How’s that, John?”
“High visibility has its own risks,” Malouf said.
“Such as?” Wilson said.
“Losing clients who don’t want more public scrutiny, compromising our credibility as independent and unbiased consultants, exposing the firm’s methods and approaches to our competition, diverting our focus from real issues, do you want me to go on?” he concluded with barely suppressed hostility.
Wilson waited a moment to rehearse what he was about to say. Then he leaned forward in his chair and locked eyes with Malouf. “I understand your concerns, John. And we will address them. But in my judgment, the benefits of higher visibility clearly outweigh the risks, especially when it comes to expanding the firm internationally,” Wilson said firmly.
“Let’s talk about Kresge amp; Company’s mystique,” Malouf said condescendingly, his irritation beginning to show, as he sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “If they’re not careful, their increased publicity could destroy the aura of mystery and veneration that has surrounded the institution and its methods for decades.”
Wilson could see that anger was loosening Malouf’s tongue. “I don’t have a problem capitalizing on Fielder amp; Company’s furtiveness, although I think we should find a better word,” Wilson said.
A ripple of quiet laughter broke out among the other vice presidents as they took advantage of the break in tension to shift in their seats and cross or uncross their legs.
With obvious effort, Malouf softened slightly. “Sometimes, less is more, Wilson. I’m sure you understand that better than any of us. Kresge’s zeal for protecting its privacy and the privacy of its clients is legendary.”
This was the first serious challenge to one of Wilson’s initiatives and everyone was waiting to see how he would handle it, especially Malouf. Wilson responded matter-of-factly, “I am fully aware of Kresge’s position on privacy and publicity, but it’s outdated and behind the curve.” Wilson paused before continuing, “We live in a new era of public exposure and transparency. It’s time to learn how to capitalize on it.”
Malouf bit down hard on the freshened bait. “I can assure you, our clients will resent that attitude,” he said, no longer attempting to disguise his anger.
Make Malouf take action, Wilson told himself. “Privacy is a dying myth. It doesn’t exist, John. Secrecy is not only becoming unfashionable, it’s becoming impossible. We owe it to our clients to prepare them for a future when nothing they think, feel, say, plan, or do will escape the scrutiny of their employees, customers, shareholders, suppliers, competitors, the press, and society in general.” Wilson said, knowing exactly how arrogant he sounded. Bring me inside. “Creating more publicity-savvy consultants will make us more, not less, effective with our clients. Besides, I think it’s time we replaced Kresge amp; Company as the world’s premier management consulting firm.”
“That’s exactly why David Quinn and The J. B. Musselman Company fired Kresge amp; Company. Because privacy became a myth,” Malouf shot back spitefully.
Wilson’s blood ran cold as he listened to Malouf’s words and saw the cunning smirk on his face. For an instant, his confidence faltered, his mind jumping into hyperdrive to bring it back. What was Malouf trying to tell me? Was there a connection between David Quinn and the secret partnership? Or, was Malouf merely pointing out that I’d been wrong about Musselman?
Even though The J. B. Musselman Company had never been discussed during the week, Wilson assumed the vice presidents already knew that he was the Kresge partner who had prophesied Musselman’s doom. Then it struck him. Malouf was still trying to convince someone that Wilson was a loose cannon who needed to be stopped. Ashford? Spivey? He couldn’t believe it was Tennyson or O’Connor. Certainly not Throckmorton. Or was it intended for someone else, listening from a distance or to a recording when they landed?
The silence and Wilson’s runaway train of thought was broken by Leigh Tennyson. She looked at Malouf as she spoke, “I agree with Wilson. We can’t keep playing the same old game; it’s too risky. A more proactive approach to visibility could give us a big advantage.”
Wilson was shocked. The way Tennyson was looking at Malouf, there was no mistaking it. She had to be involved. Wilson was sure of it. Leigh Tennyson, who he’d come to admire and respect, was a card-carrying member of the secret partnership, signaling to Malouf that Wilson needed to be brought into the fold. We can’t keep playing the same old game, Wilson repeated in his mind.
“The initiative does represent a major departure from your father’s philosophy,” Corbin Ashford remarked.
The comment was both innocent and revealing. Ashford was talking to Wilson, not Malouf or Tennyson, and he seemed completely oblivious to any hidden agenda. But Wilson had to be sure. “My father changed his will a few
