The Brass Statuettes Ch. 18

"I just remembered something," Ashley said. "I have to go. It's an appointment that I made a long time ago." She jumped to her feet and hurried through the veranda door.

"I knew she was a faker," Gloria said. "All she ever did was talk about it. I never knew her to do it with anyone."

"I would say a tease," Brenda partly agreed, "but she was just teasing herself."

"Let's have another drink, and then I'll fill you in on Alvin's details."

***********

Frank watched the shot he'd just hit fly on its way to the seventh green. He'd hit it hard, but something about the ball's trajectory didn't look just right and he knew right away what to expect. Sure enough, a second later the ball started arcing to the left and was finally ensnared by a sand trap alongside the green. He suppressed an expletive.

"I really spun out on that one," he said out loud, acknowledging his error to Tyler and Blake.

"See? You're out of practice. You don't get out on the course enough. I tried to tell you in the office," Blake replied.

"Don't worry," Tyler said, "better the trap than what you would've been in if the ball had gotten past it."

"You're a real silver lining kid of guy," Frank replied.

"I'm a lawyer," Tyler said. "It's my job to give advice."

"As I see it, your game will come around somewhere on the seventeenth," Blake said. "You'll par the last two. That's so you'll come back for more."

"I'd have my head on my game if I knew why you two dragged me out here," Frank said. "I know you've got something on your minds—probably about that conference in Alvin's office yesterday."

"You knew we were called in there?" Blake asked.

"Jeannette called me while it was in progress. I was with Patricia and Trudy in a diner near Austin having lunch."

"So, you didn't know anything about the meeting?" Tyler asked. He looked at Blake with an 'I-told-you-so' look as Frank shook his head.

"It was crazy," Blake began. "Tyler and I get called in to this meeting we didn't know anything about and there's the Finance Committee sitting around the table. Then we look around and find out you're not there and before we can ask why, Alvin cuts us off."

"What'd he say?" Frank asked.

"He said that Mueller was putting together a syndicate to take control of the company and he wanted us to know because he wanted our support in case he decided to go for it."

"Then we were dismissed," Tyler added. "No questions, no explanation and no Frank. We didn't like it."

"I'm not that crazy about it either," Frank said. He stopped talking for a few seconds as Tyler addressed his ball, preparing to take his approach shot. "I think Mueller's determined to pull off this Wertheim deal come hell or high water. He's using the SEC bullshit as leverage."

"He wants you out because he thinks you'll stop it," Tyler said. His ball had come to rest in the center of the green.

"I probably would," Frank acknowledged. "It's not the right deal for the company right now."

"Or ever," Blake quickly said. "I never liked it. The integration process would have been murder. European deals are always tough. German ones are the worst. They think they invented math and no one else knows how to write chemical equations. It'd be months before they'd stop trying to lecture us and decide to shut up and listen."

Blake took his eight iron out of his bag and hit a high arching shot that came to rest fifteen feet from the cup. He stuffed the club back into his bag.

"It's over-regulated to the max over there—even worse than here."

"I wish you'd been that firm when the debate was on," Frank reminded him.

"I know," Blake sighed. "I regret it; just self-protecting, I guess. Things are different now."

"We just don't like being railroaded into supporting something we know nothing about," Tyler said.

"To say nothing of having you get shut out," Blake added. "And if Mueller takes over we'll have a disaster on our hands."

Frank took his sand wedge into the bunker. "You guys keep quiet for a second or I'll chunk this." Tyler and Blake kept silent, but Frank chunked it, anyway. The ball ended up on the fringe. He climbed out of the bunker and strode quickly to the cart to exchange his wedge for his putter. "It looks like I didn't lose my turn."

Frank two-putted from the fringe for a bogey. Tyler sunk a long putt for a bird, but Blake missed his fifteen-footer and settled for par.

"So what're you guys saying?" Frank asked.

"We want Alvin out," Tyler said without hesitation. "We thought that if the three of us went to the Board..."

"You mean a palace coup," Frank said.

"Call it what you will," Blake said. "We've got to do something. We've all got a lot invested in this company. Alvin's not..."

"Let's finish our round and discuss it in the clubhouse later," Frank said.

*************

After the round they showered and then got a table in the corner of the bar. Blake nursed a scotch. Frank and Tyler each had a beer.

"What's the matter with you, Frank? I thought you were a scotch man," Blake pointed out.

"After the fleecing you gave me today all I can afford is beer."

"Let's talk business," Tyler said. "We've got nothing against Alvin, personally, but he's gone weak when we need someone strong."

"The top of the ladder is a tough place to live," Blake agreed, "no one can stay there forever and he's been there a long time."

"You've got to agree," Tyler added. "He's obviously planning on getting rid of you."

"I wanted to confront him today," Frank answered, "but he was in Austin on that lecture thing he's involved in."

"See what we mean?" Blake shot back.

Frank raised his beer mug and took a big gulp. "For my part, I think the coup idea is a mistake."

Blake and Tyler looked at one another. Frank could see they were surprised and disappointed; he'd expected that.

"We were thinking that you could carry the flag on this," Blake told him. "We know you're tight with Sweeney.

"Do you want to know the business or personal reasons first?" Frank asked. Neither Blake nor Tyler answered. "Let me stick to the business reasons. First of all, if Alvin goes, who would take his place?"

Tyler spoke up. "We thought Blake could move up to President..."

"You'll get that anyway, if you bide your time, especially if you pull off this Bayonne-Texas City project—and I think you will. President is not Chairman. Don't tell me that anyone would be better than Alvin. That's just plain wrong."

"We thought Jim Sweeney..."

"Jim just turned seventy. What makes you think he'd want to do it—or for how long? Jim's a great Board member, but I don't see him as Chairman."

"I'll give you that," Blake admitted. "That's not enough reason to not take action."

"Let me give you one, then," Frank said and leaned in closer to the other men so that he didn't have to speak loud. "If Alvin suddenly goes, it will make a lot of noise on Wall Street. The stock price will plummet. If Mueller doesn't pull off the takeover, someone else will. We'll be easy pickin's and if that happens you won't even remember the name Western Chemical in five years."

"You really think that could happen?" Blake asked.

"Frank's right," Tyler said. "This SEC thing hanging over us has us in a corner."

"You're damn right," Frank said. "What we have to do is keep the stock price as high as we can to make it harder for Mueller's boys accumulate the shares they need—if that's what they actually do."

"Whaddya mean 'if'?" Blake asked.

"It's possible that Mueller's bluffing. If he really had the guns he'd just do it and make changes after the fact. I think he's trying to force me out because he thinks I'm standing in the way of Wertheim. He's got a one-track mind—and it's on the wrong track."

"What Frank's saying makes a lot of sense," Tyler said. "So how do we keep the stock price from falling?"

"By keeping investors calm and confident," Frank said. "Keep profit performance up and keep rumors of instability in management low. I'm going on a tour to try to make sure that the big shareholders are still with us. If something blows up while I'm gone, I'm going to be in a very bad position. I already spoke with Jim Sweeney and he thinks it's the right thing to do."

"Okay, I'm sold," Blake said. "It wasn't the answer I was hoping for, but I'm sold."

"You said there was a personal part, too," Tyler said.

"It's just that I don't like end runs. Getting stabbed in the back hurts. I just got a fresh set of scars to prove it. Alvin may have been erratic lately, but he's earned the chance to make it right—at least in my book."

"You're getting to be a softy," Tyler joked.

"Tell that to my teen-aged daughter. You'll get an argument."

"Wanna lose some more money on Sunday?" Blake asked. "I've got a tee time reserved, but no foursome."

"You're on!"

"Sounds good," Tyler said.

"We'll get Sweeney as a fourth," Frank said. "He'll take all our money and make us thank him for doing it."

*************

TO BE CONTINUED...