shareholders. That’s my job. Just tell me what the fuck you want me to do, because I’m tired of running in circles.”
“I don’t know if it’s true, but we’re hearing Goldman is announcing a deal with Wachovia in the next twenty-four hours,” John Mack announced to the management team gathered in his office. He had just learned of the rumor from a director at the meeting with his board and was distressed by the possibility. After all, it had been only Friday that they were in merger negotiations that didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
Taubman, the firm’s head of investment banking, was horrified.
Paulson had gotten word that the Goldman-Wachovia deal was off, which put even more pressure on him to find a solution for Morgan Stanley. To him, JP Morgan was the obvious answer. While Jamie Dimon might have been resisting Paulson’s overtures—Paulson had pressed the case with him several times already over the past day— Paulson now needed to apply some serious pressure.
“Jamie,” Paulson said when he reached him, conferencing in Geithner and Bernanke. “I need you to really think about buying Morgan Stanley. It’s a great company with great assets.”
Dimon had just finished having an impromptu meeting with Gao of CIC, who had come to see him to explore whether JP Morgan would be willing to work together on a bid for Morgan Stanley, with CIC buying additional equity in the firm and JP Morgan providing a credit line. But the meeting hadn’t gone anywhere.
Dimon, who had been anticipating that the government might try to foist the deal on him, was adamant.
“You’ve got to stop. This is not doable,” he said intently. “It’s not possible. I would do anything for you and for this country, but not if it’s going to jeopardize JP Morgan.
“Even if you gave it to me, I couldn’t do it,” Dimon continued, explaining that he thought the deal would cost the bank $50 billion and countless job losses.
“I don’t want to do it, and John doesn’t want to do it,” Dimon told him.
“Well, I might need you to do it,” Paulson persisted.
A few moments of silence passed until Dimon relented, but only slightly. “We’ll consider it, but it’s going to be tough,” he said.
The tension inside Morgan Stanley’s board meeting was becoming untenable. Roger Altman, the banker from Evercore who had been hired just twenty-four hours earlier to advise them, was telling them that they needed to think hard about selling the entire firm. He had painted a doomsday scenario, and it wasn’t sitting well with several directors in the room, who had become convinced that Altman was trying to get them to do a deal simply so that he could collect a big fee.
During a break, Roy Bostock spoke with C. Robert Kidder, the firm’s lead director: “We ought to fire that guy right now. Get him out of here. He is not helping.” Others were concerned that given his close ties to the government—he was the former deputy Treasury secretary and was still considered very well connected—that he might leak information about the firm’s health back to them. That, they thought, would explain why Geithner was putting so much pressure on Mack to do a deal. Though they did not know it, Altman had sent an e-mail to Geithner the night before telling him that he had gotten the assignment to work for Morgan, but he had not disclosed any of the details of the meeting.
Whether it was paranoia or just a lack of sleep, the discussion was becoming heated. Mack, who hadn’t been consulted when Altman was hired, was even more upset about his being there than some of the board members. “I don’t trust him,” Mack announced after he kicked Altman out of the board meeting temporarily. He said he thought they should be using Morgan Stanley’s own bankers to advise them if they really were going to sell the firm. He also told them he was worried about revealing the details of Morgan Stanley’s negotiations with Mitsubishi in front of Altman, reminding the directors that Evercore had a partnership with Mizuho Financial Group of Japan, one of Mitsubishi’s rivals.
“I don’t know what this guy is up to,” he said.
Geithner, still holding court from his office downtown, had become convinced that Morgan Stanley would fail if it didn’t complete a deal by the time the markets opened on Monday. He had threatened Mack earlier in the day that he would deny his request to become a bank holding company unless he found a sizable investment or merged. “Being a naked bank holding company won’t do it,” he warned. Like Paulson, Geithner thought Mack was misguided in his belief that Mitsubishi would come through for them in time. “What’s your Plan B? You need a Plan B,” he had nearly screamed into the phone.
Not everyone at the Fed was in agreement with Geithner’s insta-merger strategy, however. So unpopular was Geithner’s single-mindedness about merging banks that afternoon that some CEOs began referring to him as “eHarmony,” after the online dating service. “If we sell one more of these guys for a dollar,” Kevin Warsh complained, “this whole freakin’ thing is going to come undone.”
At about 3:30 p.m., John Mack’s assistant, Stacie Kruk, announced that Secretary Paulson was on the line. Mack took the call on the phone next to his couch. The New York Giants versus the Cincinnati Bengals game was playing on the TV behind him.
“Hi, John. I’m on with Ben Bernanke and Tim Geithner. We want to talk to you,” Paulson said.
“Well,” Mack said, “since you’re all on the line, can I put my general counsel on?”
Paulson agreed, and Mack hit the speakerphone button after the television was muted.
“Markets can’t open Monday without a resolution of Morgan Stanley,” he said in the sternest way he knew. “You need to find a solution, we want you to do a deal.”
Mack just listened, dumbstruck.
Bernanke, who was usually remote and silent in such situations, cleared his throat and added, “You don’t see what we see. We’re trying to keep the system safe. We really need you to do a deal.”
“We’ve spent a lot of time working on this and we think you need to call Jamie,” Geithner insisted.
