“Always nice to have an educated public. Surely you also know, then, that in the absence of that warning, Mr. Parner, you have no right to be silent. Since I’m a federal officer pursuing an official investigation, in fact, you have the obligation to answer my questions. Do you understand that?”
Parner glanced at the corner and the lawyer nodded again, not quickly this time, almost glacially. His specialty was corporate law, but best as he could recall, it sounded like a pretty good rendering of con law 101. He wished now he had paid more attention in class. He wished even more that some other lawyer from the office had been sent to handle this banshee.
Parner said, somewhat reluctantly, “I think I understand.”
“Let me help you understand better. I can ask you these questions here, in the comfort of your office, or I can come back with a warrant, drag you out in cuffs, and ask you in less comfortable surroundings. Do you understand that?”
Parner nodded again, without any more silly glances at Warrington. The fancy mouthpiece in the corner was slowly shaking his head, not in disagreement, but in amazement. This agent had raced from a friendly little drop-in visit to flinging around vile threats in nothing flat. Parner’s feet were off the desk now. He was shifting in his seat, playing with a paperweight, struggling to conceal his growing anxiety.
Parner managed a very weak, “You can do that?”
She offered him a bitchy smile. “Amazing how much power and authority the Supreme Court grants me, don’t you think?”
“Very amazing,” Parner agreed, and he meant it.
“Question one,” she announced, getting right down to business. “How did Arvan Chemicals come to your attention?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
Mia uncrossed her legs and edged forward in her seat. “You boys wait here, and I’ll be back in an hour.” She stood and began straightening her dress.
“Wait!” Parner yelled, and it was nearly a scream.
“Why should I? You’re wasting my time.”
“All right, I’ll answer your questions.” He paused, drew a few deep breaths, and tried to compose himself. “We have nothing to hide. The Arvan deal was brought to us by a New York investor.”
“Name?”
“Uh… I don’t remember.”
“See if this helps. Jack Wiley?”
Parner and the lawyer exchanged looks she wasn’t supposed to see. How did she know that? More important, how much else did she know? After a momentary hesitation-what would it hurt to answer truthfully?-Parner managed to produce a slow nod. “I think that’s the correct name.”
“And what did Wiley offer you?”
“I wasn’t present at the initial meeting,” he offered truthfully. “So I have no idea,” he lied. He had listened to that horrible tape of Jack running circles around his underlings at least half a dozen times, but was confident she had no way of knowing such a tape even existed.
“Was it a takeover?”
“Something like that.”
“Would you describe it as a friendly takeover, or an unfriendly one?”
“Friendly… definitely friendly, Agent Jenson,” he said, regaining his confidence. “Mr. Arvan developed a wonderful product that showed remarkable promise. But he was way over his head, and he knew it. He wanted to get it into the hands of a bigger company that could get into the field fast. I’m happy to say he chose us. We felt honored. He was handsomely paid.”
“How was it tested?”
“Thoroughly. And under the most authentic, arduous conditions.”
“I asked how, Mr. Parner, not how well.”
After another moment’s hesitation, Parner said, “Uh, I wouldn’t know, not exactly, anyway. I head LBOs, not test and evaluation.”
“I know who I’m talking to.” Then very calmly she asked, “Did your company contribute any money to Congressman Earl Belzer, of Georgia?”
“What?”
“It’s not complicated. Did you bribe Belzer, yes or no?”
Parner wasn’t about to answer that. No way. Not truthfully, anyway, and he was saved the trouble of having to tell another big whopper by Warrington, who somehow worked up his nerve, took a big step forward, and planted himself firmly in the middle of the discussion. “We’re through answering questions without a subpoena. This company has done nothing wrong, and I don’t like your questions.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Uh… are we under investigation, and if so, for what?” It was the question he should’ve asked the moment he laid eyes on her. He knew he was on dangerous ground, but wasn’t exactly sure why. “What’s your purpose for coming over here?” he demanded, continuing his feeble attempt to turn the tables.
Now Mia looked amused. “I came to introduce myself.”
“Introduce yourself?”
“Since you’ll be seeing plenty of me, I thought we should become acquainted.”
She was on her feet and out the door before they could ask her what she meant by that vague threat.
20
The meeting convened in the expansive office of Mitch Walters. The pen-and-ink portrait of his head from the
Jackson was the legal cutthroat whose judgment would mean the most, and from the beginning he proceeded to take charge.
It opened with a hard, fast-paced interrogation of Thomas Warrington, the babyfaced lawyer from the general counsel’s office who had had the dismaying misfortune to meet Mia. Jackson treated him with all the cold contempt he reserved for a rookie attorney who had gotten his pants pulled down. “So you just let her waltz into our LBO section,” Jackson taunted, as if to say Warrington had stood aside and let her pillage the company safe.
“She had a shield,” Warrington answered, plainly terrified. “And she was very assertive.”
“But you failed to force her to explain why?”
“She never gave me the opportunity.”
“Idiot. Of course she didn’t.”
He winced. “I tried to get it out of her,” he complained, painfully aware of how pathetic that sounded.
“Beat it, get out of here. I never want to see your face again,” Jackson barked with a threatening glare. Warrington nearly scorched the carpet he moved so fast.
The other three men were all staring with deep intensity at Jackson’s face.
“What do you think?” Bellweather was first to ask.
The glare melted into his more typical expression of bored condescension. “My guess? She’s fishing. She smells something, but she’s got nothing. Not yet.”
“I don’t like the questions she asked Parner,” Walters complained. Then, as if anybody needed to hear it recounted, “About the takeover, about the testing, about the money to Belzer. They were too close to home. Why would she be interested in those areas?”
“Could be she was firing shots in the dark,” Haggar suggested. “Everything she asked could be gleaned from the newspapers. Everyone knows we bought Arvan-hell, Mitch shot his mouth off to every TV network and newspaper that would give him a second of attention. And everyone knows defense products are tested. Also, it’s fairly obvious to any observer that Belzer hammered the polymer through Congress.”
