THE CORRUPT REPUBLIC
A Novel by Andrew Buck
Copyright 2009
“The Corrupt Republic”
Andrew Buck
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2009, Andrew Buck
Although inspired by true events, this novel is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, organizations, past or present, or persons, living or deceased, are purely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publisher.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and/or author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This novel is dedicated to my wonderful wife Anna, without whose unfaltering support and belief in my dream this would never have become a reality.
*****
In memory of Harry D. Creamer (1912 – 1985) – a modest man who was the calm amidst the storm, and was the cornerstone of my family.
Foreword and Introduction:
I’m not a novelist by trade or calling. I felt compelled to admit that, since my goal was more to convey a philosophy and core set of beliefs about our nation through this book.
Over the course of a restless night, a vision that shaped this book emerged, and from then on I felt as if I had little choice but to craft a work that as closely resembled that fleeting vision as I could recall. I vividly recalled that evening to the point that my next waking thoughts occurred to me on a phone call the next day to a former colleague who asked what I’d been doing. “Writing a book,” I told him. I knew the elements, but had only vague understandings of much of the interior that simply took shape around the central theme as the story evolved.
Like many, I shared a deep concern about the direction our country had taken in the wake of the Wall Street Financial Crisis, and was appalled at the attitudes of so many in the financial sector who showed nothing but greed and a sense of entitlement. I felt we had failed to provide the correct oversight to the American people that they deserved. For decades to come, we’ll likely debate the merits of the bailout money, or the involvement of so many people with connections to both Wall Street and Capitol Hill. Some will contend that we should have done nothing; others will argue we could have done more, and still others will rail against the notion of government involvement in business. What became clear as I watched the events of the financial crisis unfold was the lack of accountability we instilled into the financial sector, the entitlement mentality that has evolved, and the overall lack of responsibility and standards to which the “best financial minds” were held.
History will ultimately judge our success or failure in managing through the financial crisis and how we’ll emerge as a nation. With every story of excesses, I struggled with the attitude taken by the financial markets and the lack of relief given to the rest of the country as we contend with the deepening recession. The cacophony of voices and resentment toward the politicians and financial executives has become more evident, and it caused me to consider whether bailing out the aftermath of unfettered greed was our finest moment as a nation. I continue to find conflict in that question.
I’m not a Socialist, and I’m quite politically agnostic. I’ll borrow a quote I’ve ascribed in this novel in suggesting that I’d be a Libertarian if I felt we could self-govern. I contend there is more than enough evidence to suggest that we’d not be in the situation we find ourselves now but for the greed of the well-placed in our nation. The headlines, news programs, and media coverage of the crisis only confirmed in my view that we’d significantly departed from our American values -- some call it the Protestant work ethic, but I’ll term it simply as ethics. The growing sense that we are moving further away from the sentiments of our citizens became clear.
I wondered again whether a different style of accountability would provide the correct influence to change the inherent flaws in the situation. Would it work, or would it further influence the view that government involvement in business was moving our country further away from our core values as Americans. While I considered that notion, I also considered how accountability on behalf of the American public should be representing the ownership interest that the government has since taken in many businesses from Manhattan to Detroit. The idea behind this type of move is not new, and it’s one that’s come up for consideration -- it arises out of the activities of the Resolution Trust Corporation (RTC), which was chartered to help address the Savings & Loan crisis many years ago, a fact that people seem prone to forget in our history. As the notion behind this book based some of its scenarios on an RTC-like organization, the growing sense of power and corruption still suggests we’ve much yet to learn, and much more to be told.
As I’m writing this, politicians are still taking the pulse of the American people. Do we want nationalized healthcare? Do we believe government should provide us with all the answers? Should the government protect us from all of our wrong decisions, or should each of us be held accountable to the ethics and values that have successfully guided our nation for generations? Are the values of our country consistent with the rewards of hard work and personal accountability, or they reinforcing a view that the American people need all of their decisions made by government-appointed proxy? Are we truly a capitalist economy, or are we heading down a road closer to socialism?
Our history is still being written, but I have faith that the values of the American people will prevail; that people will understand the value of accountability by holding their elected officials to higher ethical standards, and return to viewing public service as a noble effort. From speaking with others, I'm still finding that those core values resonate with Americans.
I wrote this in the hope of inspiring compelling conversation about our nation’s direction, and challenging our traditional beliefs about the role that government should continue to serve for our people. Perhaps it will be a catalyst for accountability.
The approach outlined in The Corrupt Republic signals a return to ethics, morals and character through the example of one humble individual reluctantly accepting his call to service. He sets the example for others that there is virtue in ethically guided actions, in following a moral compass, and in believing that the American people want and deserve that accountability.
This began as my labor of love. I hope it provokes thought, insight, and productive debate. Perhaps it will catalyze others to think individually and demand the same ethical standards they would demand from themselves.
Andrew Buck
Monroe, NY
November 2009
For more about Andrew Buck’s work, or to read his Weblog, please visit:
1
Jack Thomason was spending a quiet afternoon on what he termed “the farm”. It was a modest property he’d purchased in Upstate New York a few years after he grew tired of the years of commuting from his native Bucks County, Pennsylvania to his offices alternately in New York, Philadelphia, and Washington. While Bucks County was a perfect middle-point to settle in the Northeast, his life changed after the events of 9/11. The Amtrak commute was no longer a quality-of-life he wanted to see for he and his wife. Watching his wife, Andrea, endure a similar commute took its silent toll on both of them.
Andrea had worked in Lower Manhattan, some 3 blocks from the World Trade Center site. Her back was turned toward her office window when the first tower was hit so that all she heard and felt was an earth-shattering blast. Minutes later, she watched as the second “missile” hit. She watched as office workers trapped on upper floors had two choices: Await the inevitable, or dive to a demise of their own choosing.
At first, both believed that something heinous had happened, and as events unfolded, they began to suspect that this was not a war of another nation’s choosing: They had more than their share of reason to suspect that the administration in power had other motivations that would unfold from the attacks.
Jack had served within various posts in both Democratic and Republican administrations by the sheer virtue he never made his own political positions known. His roles within the administrations’ legal counsel’s office had more than its share of perks, but after 9/11 unfolded, Jack had decided that it was time to resign his post and return to the world of Corporate Tort Law on which he’d originally embarked when he set out from Law School. In the closing days of 2001, he’d left his post, and spent some time sorting out his game plan.
His wife’s firm had been forced from their offices in Lower Manhattan by the aftermath of the World Trade Center attacks, and she was forced into a marathon commute each day from Bucks County into far Northern New Jersey. Jack knew all too well that the stop-and-start stress along with the PTSD impacts from watching the attack unfold had taken their toll, and was eager to find some solitude in the furthest reaches he could from his current world, even though it meant leaving his family behind.
Jack bought a modest house in Orange County, NY – a lovingly cared-for Craftsman home in as modest a neighborhood as he could find, with some land around and a small “barn” at the back of the property. It was his solace from the rat race to escape their every day, and know the simplicity of a small bedroom community. It matched both his conservative values and his conflicted desire to be close enough to the city to entertain visiting, yet far enough away to feel some sense of removal at the end of a long day. Andrea, too, felt the peace and tranquility of the farm.
All of that seemed ages ago. A whole administration ago, in fact, and Jack believed things had just moved on. So did Andrea. Jack had settled into a career as a partner in his firm’s New York office, handling complex tort litigation and corporate contracts as part of the firm’s Merger & Acquisition practice. Jack’s firm had been known as a haven for Beltway insiders with strong ties to lobbyists and a host of big players on both sides of the aisle. Jack’s Rolodex was one the firm coveted, and even though he detested the lobbying game on principle, he’d be willing to sit back and make the introductions as long as he didn’t need to wallow in the political muck. As a partner, Jack had a comfortable role as both rainmaker and insider mind to understanding how his clients could fairly leverage the deductions within the confines of law. He was seldom challenged, and never beaten on legal principle.
********
It was a Sunday afternoon in early autumn when Jack’s cell phone rang inside the house. Andrea picked it up.
“Andrea, it’s Howard. How are you? Laura’s been asking after you, says it’s been ages.”
It was Howard Berglund, Jack’s partner. If there was one thing Andrea disliked, it was false pleasantries, even if Howard and Jack got on well as business colleagues. Andrea was polite but perfunctory in her response.
“Hi Howard, I’m fine, please give Laura my regards. Let me get Jack, he’s out in the barn.”
Andrea felt the impact of the fall ragweed and leaf season, and the effect of her allergies had her prescribed to 2 types of medications so she could moderately tolerate the walk to the barn. She reluctantly carried the cell phone to Jack.
Cupping the mouthpiece, she whispered “It’s Howard.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
Andrea shrugged and handed him the phone as she turned back toward the house. “Hi Howard, kind of odd for you to call on a Sunday. How was D.C.?”
“Good. I really need to talk as soon as possible, something’s come up, Jack, and I could use your insight and expertise here.”
“In over your head again, Howard?” Jack laughed jokingly.
“It’s not what you think. Can you meet me for breakfast early tomorrow at Pershing Square? Say 7:30?”
“Pershing Square…ummm…sure, but can you clue me in? What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain tomorrow, it’s a little more than I want to go through on the phone, and I’ll no doubt get something misconstrued. Let’s talk over breakfast.”
“OK Howard, 7:30? But you do have me worried. Something have you spooked?”
“See you then…” and the line went dead. Jack put the rake he’d propped against the outside of the barn back inside and made his way back into the kitchen.
“What did he want on a Sunday?” Andrea asked.
“He was being unusually cryptic…something about needing my help, seemed a bit cagey. Not like Howard, usually you can’t shut him up. This time…I couldn’t read him.”
Andrea looked puzzled.
“My thoughts exactly,” Jack continued as he put the cell phone down on the counter.
‘Weren’t you going to finish the raking today, hon?”
Jack looked out toward the barn, and simply sighed. “I suppose I should, but that conversation probably has me more worried than I should be. Dinner soon?”
“A couple hours, why not go out and finish up out there? Maybe it’ll give you time to think and reflect?”
Jack gave Andrea a peck on the cheek as he exited the kitchen and walked out to the barn, pausing to note 3 female deer crossing his path back by the barn. To see one at close range wasn’t uncommon since the deer had become very tame, and in so doing alternately a curiosity and nuisance. The curiosity was seeing deer still traipsing through the fringe suburbia that Orange County had become in recent years; the nuisance was the increased incidence of Lyme Disease that each deer brought as it came closer to human contact, so Jack was usually a bit overdressed for any gardening on the property as he often came close enough to the deer to see the deer ticks on their snouts.
Letting the deer pass, he resumed thinking about Howard’s call.
Howard was the consummate Washington insider. He cultivated connections with the K Street crowd and often lunched with both leaders lobbying for causes as well as with the politicians to whom he had access. Jack tried to remain away from the fray, ever cautious to avoid the perception that special interests made poor bedfellows in any circle, let alone the perception that the firm may be representing competing interests and profiting from pitting each against the other.
Jack knew the connections, and always made clear that his interest was in brokering introductions. It was a cesspool that he’d been happy to leave behind mostly when he left Washington politics and the special counsel’s office. He was content that it was a part of the business with which Howard was more eager to involve himself than he, so he left those details and focused on the day-to-day operations of the practice, and his niche in the M&A world back in the New York office.
He’d known that Howard was out of the office for the past 3 weeks in the D.C. practice overseeing the caseload and tending to details, but knew little else about his visit. By now, Jack had lost interest in being a Beltway insider and felt more at ease in using his personal influence to push back on Wall Street prima donnas, finding the flaws in the numbers behind overly ambitious merger plans that could be rigged to show profitable synergies. He’d been skeptical of the B of A and Merrill merger from the start, and his contrarian view of the rationale for the merger initially won him few praises from The Street. Though now that his instincts had been proven correct, he’d made a name for himself that warranted an occasional appearance on Business News Channel and MNN to speculate on corporate trends. As a partner and advisor to his clients, it was a public relations requirement, though never one with which his modesty was comfortable.
He’d no idea why suddenly Howard’s tone of voice seemed alarmed and fraught with suspicion. Jack was generally better at reading a voice than a face. Something was afoot, and he suspected it was something out of Howard’s depth and comfort. He felt as if he was about to be sucked back into the converging world of business and politics.
In recent months, Jack’s clients were seeking more regulatory counsel than normal based on the arcane rules concerning Federal Financial Markets bailouts, as several of them decided to accept the recapitalization opportunities afforded by both government finances and partial ownership. Few truly understood what that meant, and Jack’s experience in this realm had recently become key to the firm’s success. Because of the recession, Berglund, Thomason and Stewart had taken a pass on some of the more high profile mergers; Jack fought hard against accepting exorbitant legal fees for mergers he suspected would ultimately fail and reflect back on the firm. Howard was the stronger proponent of expanding their presence in that market, and the two nearly came to blows on more than one occasion.
Jack’s nature was that of a quiet extrovert who was willing to stand on principle. Howard’s was more bent on expanding the business to the benefit of the firm’s partners; and while Jack knew that he would stand to gain more from the influx of business, he couldn’t sleep with the ethics behind some of Howard’s decisions. The two knew when to speak, and how symbiotic their relationship really was, though Jack was more the contrarian and voice of reason, while Howard more the opportunist.
Jack returned to his raking, watching the last few leaves fall from the early November sugar maples that surrounded his property. As he looked back toward the house in the waning daylight, he began to realize the agenda forming, and looked toward his breakfast meeting with some reservation, a reservation he’d yet to put his finger upon.
The kitchen phone rang while Andrea was checking dinner in the oven – a Rosemary and Sage roasted chicken with pan roasted vegetables in season from the last time they’d been to the farm market.
“Andrea?” There was a long pause. “It’s Laura. I know we haven’t spoken in ages, but…do you have a moment?” It was a call that Andrea wasn’t expecting, nor was she always at ease with Laura, someone she confided in Jack that she often found overbearing. Andrea could handle Laura in small doses; it was unlike her to reach out, and more peculiar that she’d call out of the blue.
“Hi Laura, how are you?” Andrea answered.
“I’m really concerned…do you have a moment? Can we talk a bit?”
“Dinner’s in the oven. What’s wrong, Laura?”
“Look…I’ve been married to Howard for 26 years, I’ve got a daughter at Vassar and a son at Columbia prelaw. You’d think for as long as we’ve been together that you’d know someone. That’s why this is really difficult…he came back from 3 weeks in D.C. and…he just won’t say anything to me about it!”
“I’m not sure what to say. Was he happy? Sad?”
“Confused, Andrea. He looked like he’d just woken from a nightmare. You know he’s usually this larger than life personality? When the car dropped him off, he just looked as if he’d been wiped out. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“You know he called Jack a bit ago, don’t you?”
“Of course – I spent the last 2 days with him and finally said ‘if you won’t tell me what happened, at least talk to your partner’. He’s sitting in the study now watching the game with a glass of Scotch in his hand, just staring blankly.”
“Jack was confused by his call too.”
“Andrea, if there’s anything I can count on, it’s that Jack’s a reasonable guy. If you can find out anything, please let me know? I….I…just don’t know how to explain what I’m seeing right now. He’s distant.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Howard I’ve known. Wait a second; Howard would never do that to you, Laura. I know he cares the world for you and the kids.”
“It isn’t like that.” Andrea could hear sniffling and the pushing back of tears. “I know I’m not as young as I used to be, and the moment I even suspected his secretary…I mean, Howard’s a great provider, but…”
“Laura, maybe it’s not that. Don’t jump to conclusions yet. If anyone can get Howard to dump his guts, it’s Jack.”
“OK…you know I’m prone to think the worst, Andrea.”
“Yep. I know Laura.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know precisely what I meant. I think you might need the Scotch more than Howard, dear. Just relax, the two of them are having breakfast in the morning, Jack said he might know more after that. I’ll let you know, I promise. Listen, Jack’s walking in from the barn, I’ll call you once I know more.”
“Thanks, Andrea. I knew I could count on you.”
Andrea hung up the phone as Jack walked in.
“Your mom called?” Jack asked.
“No. Laura.” Jack looked puzzled. “Laura thinks Howard’s cheating on her.”
Jack sighed. “I’m not sure which of those 2 are more neurotic – Howard or her. Is dinner close? I’m going to wash up.”
“Are you sure he isn’t?”
“Am I sure he isn’t? He’s my partner, not my wife. The less I know of his dalliances, the better.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Because I don’t want to get involved in it, and I wouldn’t put it past him. But that wasn’t the read I got from his voice.”
“How do you know?”
“Hon, he didn’t sound as if he needed a confessor to me, or as if he had personal information to drop. He already knows that I wouldn’t condone it anyway, so why bring it up?”
“Well….can you somehow…”
“Why do you want to get involved? It’s not our place. And if she wants to divorce him, let her – he’ll be stuck with the alimony bill, and that can be the end of it.”
“I can’t believe that you’re being so callous about this.”
“Love, I’m not going to argue about this with you. How many times has she called you in the past 7 years? Remind me.” Jack pauses and awaits a response. “Look, if he blurts something out, I’ll let you know, but I really don’t need to be the focal presence in their divorce proceeding. Leave it go, please?”
“Well, now that I’m in the middle of it…”
“OK, so how would you suggest I bring this up over Eggs Benedict tomorrow? ‘So Howie, had a gonorrhea test lately? Which new legal secretary is the latest conquest?’ Something like that?”
Andrea glares at Jack. “I’m not kidding, I know how I would feel.”
“But I’ve not given you that reason, hon. Look, I promise I’ll find out what I can, but please trust that you don’t want to get involved with this. And if Laura really suspects something, she can hire a PI to sort it out, or settle out in divorce court. Let’s just eat, OK?”
“Go clean up, you’re sweaty from gardening.”
2
Jack steered the big Mercedes down the West Side Highway, a route he’d taken on countless occasions. It was a typical grey autumn Monday as he approached the turn onto 56th Street to head east toward Park Avenue and then park just below 42nd Street off Third Avenue. It was a location somewhat out of the way from the mid-50’s Park Avenue office, though Jack thought the evening walk back would do some good and be a reasonable excuse to break away early to enjoy an otherwise crisp autumn evening.
He turned into the lot and threw Miguel the keys. “4:30 Miguel, and could you wash it while I’m parked?”
“Si Senor Thomas.” It was Miguel’s pet name whenever Jack used that lot, since Miguel could never quite recall Jack’s last name. It was no matter, since Jack never knew more than Miguel’s first name from his EZ-Park Name Tag. Jack always tipped in advance with an envelope clearly marked as such, placed on the driver’s seat when he left the car. With that, Jack walked up Third Avenue, and turned right to walk toward Pershing Square, rounding the corner at 7:25.
Pershing Square isn’t a very assuming restaurant, other than its location directly beneath the Park Avenue viaduct as it ascends to Grand Central Terminal. Jack fully expected Howard to be running his usual 15 minutes late, so he entered expecting to reserve a rear table for 2. Instead, he noted Howard’s burly frame waving him directly past the Maître d’. Jack walked back briefcase in hand, removing his Burberry topcoat, as he was ready to sit. Howard rose immediately to greet him with a firm handshake as if to greet a long-lost friend.
“Jack, it’s great to see you! Thanks for coming!”
“Now I know something’s afoot, Howard,” responded Jack as he grasped Howard’s thick right-hand.
Howard was a somewhat larger-than-life presence compared to Jack, standing a shade over 6’1” with a burly build that was reminiscent of his college football days at Hofstra. Graying, somewhat balding, and ruddy skinned, he looked every bit the larger than life ex-football-player turned executive that he was.
“It’s good to see you, Jack.”
“Likewise, Howard…how was DC and what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s start with the skittish Sunday afternoon calls and the early breakfast meeting and work from there. Not that I distrust you, but…was it the Hare Krishna's at the airport?”
Howard let out a nervous laugh. “No, it’s not that. I need your help, Jack. Let me try to explain my meetings in DC.”
A server interrupts the two taking their order for coffee, as Jack orders his usual Eggs Benedict and Howard orders an egg-white omelet. “The doctor keeps telling me that I need to get my cholesterol under control, especially with the weight and Type-2 closing in fast.”
“You mean besides the cigars and Scotch?”
Howard shoots a glare across to Jack, responding. “Yes, I hear it from him, then my wife, now you. I can’t catch a break.”
Howard continues. “How long have we known each other, Jack?”
Dreading the answer to the question, Jack responds. “Since I was on the special prosecutor’s team in DC and you were the lawyer-cum-lobbyist-turned lawyer again.”
“I know you dislike the thought of DC and the political pigsty it is, but I need to let you know what happened while I was down there.” Howard adds a packet of Splenda and takes a sip of his coffee before continuing. “You know how we’ve been acting as advisory to the brokerages and banks in the wake of the bailout, and we’ve gained a reputation for ourselves from a strategic insight perspective. The decision to not back the Merrill/B of A merger was a strong one for us, we couldn’t have….excuse me, you couldn’t have executed that better.”
Howard pauses before continuing. “We got more positive press for understanding what was amiss. That wasn’t lost on both sides of the political aisle, so we took away bipartisan recognition for being independent. “
“OK, so what’s the point behind this? The more you sing my high praises, the more I start to question your agenda.”
“Let me get there,” Howard pauses before continuing. “Our conservative friends are closing ranks around the issue of corporate bailouts – it’s no surprise, even coming from a pro-business right-wing, that they don’t want anything to do with massive debt to fund pork.”
“No, especially given they’ve had most of the last 8 years in a position to have done something other than squander and turn a surplus into more debt themselves.”
“We both know that, Jack, and you more than I that there are hypocrites on both sides of the aisle. However, the conservatives smell a huge win in the hearts-and-minds of their party base and they think that will spill over into a mid-term win for both the house and senate. They smell the blood in the water, Jack.”
“OK, I get that, but it cuts both ways.”
“Right. Which is why the Democrats have no choice but to get on board too. They’ve quickly realized that the administration has swung the pendulum too far left, and you have the moderates in both parties feeling pressure to bring the legislative agenda back to the centrist base of both parties.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen overnight, Howard. You and I both know the divided electorate we have in this country right now, there’s not much consensus building on either side.”
“Right, but they’re not quite there yet. The last election wasn’t about whether we wanted a Democrat or a Republican administration, or who sits in the White House, it was a referendum on the previous administration and the country wanting to put that as far in the rearview mirror as they could.”
“So far, we’re on the same page, but you haven’t told me anything I don’t know. What are you trying to tell me?”
“All right, let me just come to the point. The stimulus legislation was such as a knee jerk to the sinking global economy that no one had any idea where the money was going, who was getting it, or exactly how it was being spent. There are volumes of documentation that have been pieced together that even the administration hasn’t read. And they admit it. In the rush to put the money out there…”
“The money we don’t have…” Jack interjected.
“…No one figured out how to control it. And the electorate is so divided that they can’t agree how to do it other than through the Office of Independent Counsel.”
“Wait…a funding czar? We’ve already had a car czar, you’re telling me they’re appointing a funding czar too?”
“No. They’re appointing an independent counsel to review the spending and administer the stimulus, but they first need to review the current expenditures. They’ll be responsible going forward, but the challenge is recreating the audit trail that doesn’t exist for the funding already sent to the individual states or committed for spending, and there’s no way to verify that it was spent.”
“You mean other than appointing an independent review board to provide oversight,” Jack confirmed.
“Right.”
There’s a nervous pause between the two men as breakfast is being served, and Howard simply smiles wryly.
“What am I missing, Howard?”
“Other than needing an Independent Counsel?”
“Yes.”
“One that’s actually independent. Including party independent.”
“Right,” Jack agreed.
“That’s what you’re missing.”
“Howard, why do I feel as if this is an Abbott and Costello routine. I’m hoping there’s a point here.”
“Jack, the point is that they’re appointing an Independent Counsel. They can’t simply use the Ken Starr approach by finding a pro-Republican lawyer and throwing them as a barking dog against Whitewater. They need a known entity who doesn’t show any partisan background.”
“OK, now this is making more sense, sure. But that can’t be you, Howard. You’ve been in every back pocket inside the Beltway from your days on K Street.”
“Right. It can’t be me.”
There was a nervous pause.
“Oh no! There’s no way I can do this, Howard! Absolutely not!”
“There’s no way it cannot be you, Jack. You’re the right guy for the job. I’m telling you we already have the business.”
“Wait…how did you convince both sides of the aisle as a former lobbyist to trust your firm as an independent advisor?”
“Well, they already know I have all the loyalty of a cheap hooker – I’ll turn any trick so long as they pay me. And they know my partner will head up the task force.”
“You promised them that I’d do this and you didn’t consult me? Here’s another fine mess, Howard. How do you plan to fix this one?”
“I’m not. Jack, you need to do this! They don’t trust that anyone else will be able to handle the investigation. They’ve allocated a 9-figure budget for the Office of Independent Oversight, which will include the Office of Independent Financial Counsel.”
“They’re going to dig through every nook and cranny and tax record for me, my family, and the dog. I’m going to wake up every morning to some headline splashed across the Post…”
“New York or Washington?” Howard asked dryly.
“Funny…it doesn’t matter. I took a lot of pains to live a simple life and not have any notoriety. I just don’t want it.”
“So we should have said that when Business News Channel and MNN came calling with TV cameras to put Jack Thomason on the air for his view of ‘banking legislation.'”
“Now that’s a cheap shot – this is more than a little different from a 3 minute talking head interview to a financial reporter who couldn’t cut it as a floor trader. I don’t care about me; I care about the privacy of my family.”
“’C’mon Jack, this will be great for your political aspirations.”
“Of which I have none. Are you listening to me? No wait, this is Howard ‘the Burglar’ Berglund, and I’ve just gotten my career as a humble partner in a law firm railroaded.”
“Look, don’t thank me…I didn’t suggest this! All I said was that our firm could do it, and both the minority leader and minority whip said ‘Only if Howard Berglund isn’t attached to it.'”
“So how are you detached from it since it’s our firm, Howard?”
“Because I won’t be handling the practice at all.”
There was a long silence.
“We’ll need a firewall between the practices. If you can’t be involved, we’ll need to create separate office space and segregate the staff. Anyone working on this cannot be working on other retainers for the firm, especially if there’s advisory or involvement to the same financial clients we service now,” Jack replied. “Since you got me into this, you’ll need to change space for the firewalls, and notify our clients that effective immediately their representation will change to a different attorney.”
“Is there any situation where we have issues?”
“United Trust comes to mind. They took some recapitalization funding, but they’re still awash in CDO’s and Mortgage Backed Securities off the sub-prime market. Most of them still can’t be priced. Remember all the negative amortizations they did back in ’04 and ’05 at the height of the market? They’re underwater on 90% of them.”
“Whose client is it?”
“It’s Quince’s. He can handle it, but he’ll need some back-up before he truly owns it. He’s going to need a lot of help. “
“How were you going to advise him before this?”
“The regulators aren’t going to like what they see, and it’s better if they just cut their losses now and make it an FDIC issue, and disperse the accounts to the other regional banks. I’m honestly not even sure we’ll get more than our retainer, and we’ve exhausted it, so let’s propose a cut-and-run.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t like it, but I don’t think they’re salvageable, and I don’t want to be around for that one when it fails. We should do a preemptive and approach the regulators hand-in-hand.”
“What else?”
“How soon did you commit to this? Just tell me, don’t blow smoke.”
“I said we could be up-and-running in 30-days.”
“How many days do I have left out of that 30?”
“Oh, give me some credit, Jack! Am I that inconsiderate?” Jack glared as if to note some degree of sarcasm. “Never mind answering that, I get your point. 25.”
“So that gives us a little over 3 weeks to establish a firewall between caseloads and clients, and ensure that the Independent Counsel function has no conflict-of-interest with our client base.”
“Right.”
“Get me a team, Howard. And don’t give me the flunkies if you want this to work – your pals in DC wouldn’t like that.”
“Cheap one, Jack.” Howard paused. “But I deserved it. Look, I’m sorry, but I really thought this through before I committed to it. In all sincerity, you’re probably the only person who could pull this off with any degree of credibility. Your name was the one that kept being mentioned. I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t otherwise believe that we….or rather, you could pull this off.”
“Let me ask the question that shouldn’t be asked here.” Jack took a sip of coffee and another bite of his now cold Eggs Benedict and pushed it aside. “Is the real objective to make a difference, or is this just wind in sails and window-dressing to appease the electorate?”
There was a long silence between them as they looked nervously across the table.
“How would you read it?” Howard asked.
“Not fair. How I’d read it and how I’d play it are 2 different strategies.”
“Then answer how you’d read it.”
“The opposite of how I intend to play it. Because I would expect that the read of it is nothing more than a great show. And you put me in play because you absolutely knew I’d play it differently.”
“Then you know the answer.”
Sighing, Jack acquiesced. “Yep, and I know how much it’ll tick off your cronies when they realize I’m not window dressing.” Jack picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “I hope both sides of the aisle know what’s coming their way.”
Howard nodded and looked down at his cold omelet.
“Oh and by the way…” Jack added as he rose from the banquette, “I think the protocol is if you’ve invited me on a date, you’re paying.”
“Hey, I thought we’d go Dutch!”
“Howard, you’re such a kidder!” as Jack slaps him on the shoulder. “Be thankful I’m a cheap date and didn’t throw water in your face.” Jack turns to walk away then realizes he’s forgotten one thing.
“Oh, forgot to ask since I’ll likely be spending time in the DC Practice…how’s that new legal assistant that you hired down there….what’s her name…”
“Tiffani?” Howard asked nervously.
“Yeah…it’s Tiffani with an ‘i’ isn’t it?”
“Ummmm….yes….I think it is….yes, with an i.”
“OK, then it is her.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s probably nothing, but you might want to call Dr. Moskowitz to make sure. See you back at the office.”
As Jack turned toward the door, he watched Howard’s reflection in the window glass as he nervously scrambled for his mobile phone. Meanwhile, Jack walked across the street through Grand Central Terminal and toward the office, placing a call to Andrea.
“Did you make it to work OK?”
“Yes, love…how was breakfast?”
“Too long a story to tell you right now, what time can you break away this afternoon?”
“About 4:45. What happened with Howard?”
“I’ll pick you up by your office then. Let’s see if he makes it to the office first. Perhaps Laura’s suspicions were correct.”
3
Jack sat in his office for the remainder of the day, reflecting on the morning’s events and considering what needed to be done. He began the workweek with his usual run-down of schedule with his Personal Assistant, Jennifer. As a partner with the firm, this was a luxury afforded him that he’d need to consider whether he could afford as he assumed his Independent Counsel role, and whether she would consider the move.
The firm could certainly afford to defray the cost of housing in the District for Jack and Andrea, provided that Andrea wanted to tag along for the ride. For now, Jack left this as a point he’d discuss in detail with Andrea, as she might want the respite from her career, but might not want the spotlight that being the Independent Counsel’s wife would create; Jack would much rather have her stay back at the farm upstate and be home each weekend, knowing that he probably wouldn’t see much of her during the week based on the investigations, hearings, and management of the oversight board.
His office looked out over Park Avenue, with a south facing window that at once gave a direct view of both the Helmsley and MetLife buildings to his south, and the Empire State and GE buildings just to the West. Along the way, he’d pass the lavish Park Avenue headquarters of every financial institution that was now a part of history’s largest government dole. A fine mess it was, but it also allowed him to provide the guidance to those he really believed overcome with greed to stop rolling in their excesses.
As a partner in the firm, he received his billable fees plus a portion of the overhead charged by each attorney as administrative costs. Jack never complained about his compensation, nor did he ever demand much more than a modest living. By the standards of most of his peers in the city, he was somewhat below average on the compensation scale; he also wasn’t at ease in a position where he’d be seen as profiteering from his profession, and felt the junior attorneys in the firm should be reaping more of reward for their work. His practice within the firm was the most desired during this downturn, but it provided a huge surplus to the firm in boom times when Mergers and Acquisitions would provide very profitable fees to the retained attorneys. Each was worth millions, and they’d see several each year during a bull market. Jack was shrewd in not lavishly spending, and organized the practice into an advisory division that would provide organizational and financial strategy during downturns. In this market, that meant that his attorneys competed favorably for contracts usually handled by Big-4 Consulting Firms with more rookie managers, who were perhaps MBA’s but never JD’s. Many of Jack’s staff, as well as Jack himself, were both MBA’s and JD’s. Jack went the MBA route after passing the bar and decided to focus on corporate tort law. Once he finished, public service called and he found prosecution more interesting.
He couldn’t afford much more thinking through the looking glass for now. It was 9:30 on Monday, and Jennifer was knocking at the ajar door to Jack’s office.
“Come on in, I was just organizing my thoughts.”
“Great, first on the list this morning is the United Trust file…”
“Jennifer? Before we get started, can you go over and shut the door?”
“Sure.” She got up to close the door and sat back down at the conference table in Jack’s office. Jack never sat behind his desk for these meetings as it felt more collaborative and egalitarian to be meeting his staff in an equal setting.
Jennifer had been with the firm for 10 years, and Jack inherited her in the role when he joined the firm as a partner in 2002. In her mid-30’s, she could have left the firm for a higher administrative role anywhere on Wall Street, but chose to stay in her role with BT&S and continue working for Jack. She was a rock-solid performer to whom Jack gave a lot of latitude in carrying out her work. When she went through her divorce 4 years ago, Jack gave her the time and advances to take care of her affairs and move on, even encouraging her to go back to get her MBA. She started at Baruch at nights earlier in the year, and as a token of gratitude, Jack began letting her in on more of the advisory work in the firm. The attorneys under Jack all recognized that she was the go-to resource if Jack wasn’t in the office or decided to spend his day out at the farm.
Jennifer looked across the table at Jack, noticeably worried. “Jack, what’s wrong?”
“You need to know first because of your role here, and one-by-one I’ll be organizing time with the practice to make the announcement. This wasn’t my choice to do this, but I’m keeping the interests of the firm and the public in mind.”
Jennifer looked nervous as Jack continued. “I’m going to head an Independent Counsel function for the Financial bailouts in DC. I may be here once a week, but I won’t be in charge of the same practice in the firm. We’re going to divide the attorneys here by practice competency to work on the bailout investigation and financial accountability. I’m going to need you in some capacity, but it hasn’t been all figured out yet.”
“When did you find out about this?”
“Oh, about 2 hours ago…and I’m as shocked as you are, most likely.” Jennifer’s eyes sank to the table. “Look, I really need you in some way here to keep the wheels running because I won’t be able to count on Howard to do it as well. Howard wins clients, I win cases, I make the money, I manage the machine. The last time Howard saw the inside of a courtroom, it was pleading guilty to a traffic ticket. I need someone here who can run the office in my absence.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“If you ask Howard, probably until the mid-term elections. If you ask me, don’t ask Howard. It’s likely to be longer, and if what I suspect is lurking under the surface, the role will likely move into a different phase of prosecution once fraud is uncovered. I’d guess the better part of 2 years.”
“How’s Andrea taking it?”
“When was the last time you broke up with someone over a phone?”
“What? I’d never do that!” Jennifer laughed in amused fashion.
“Which is why I’d never give her this news over the phone. Can you do me a favor and book a table at DelFusco’s for 5PM? Tell them that I know it’s early, but just make an exception and put us remotely if they can.”
“OK, I’ll call them once we’re done.”
“So I know this is a lot to digest. Any questions?”
“Who will I work for?”
“Probably Jim Stewart, who doesn’t know a thing about this practice, and doesn’t know about that decision yet. Let’s hold off on that until we know for sure.”
“What about telling the staff?”
“Yes, the sooner the better. Book the executive conference room on 35 for tomorrow morning at 9:30AM. In the meantime, let’s you and I work out a plan for organizing the workload.”
“How’s Howard taking this?”
“Howard’s happy I didn’t fight the decision. Much. By the way, where is he?”
“He called earlier, said something about scheduling a doctor’s appointment, seemed really frantic over the phone. I couldn’t make out half of what he was saying, I’ve never heard him mumble so much since I’ve known him.”
Jack donned a goofy grin.
“Jack, what are you up to?”
“Me? Not a thing.”
“Is Howard doing the secretaries in the DC practice again?”
“Please don’t tell me he’d really do that.”
“I guess you don’t know Howard very well. He’s very charismatic. He tried to hit on me after my divorce, I blew him off. He’s married for Christ’s sake. He’s almost old enough to be my father.”
“Please do me a favor – when he gets back here, please keep me apprised of his behavior if only to keep us from sexual harassment exposures. While I’m gone, set up one of those sexual harassment seminars from that HR Consultancy we usually work with….you know the one.”
“You’re concerned with his sex life?”
“If he’s screwing the staff consensually, I’m really not concerned. If he’s screwing the firm and putting us in jeopardy, I’m very concerned. You should be as well. Let’s keep an eye on this.”
“Leave it to me, Jack. Should we review caseload and appointments?”
“Let’s review appointments…let me ponder on caseload for now.”
For the remainder of the morning, suspicion rose in the office on why the door was closed from 9:30 to noon. Just as Jennifer emerged from Jack’s office to order in lunch, Kate the front receptionist buzzed Jack’s office.
“What is it Kate?”
“Sir, there’s someone on the line from the Washington Post saying that he’s trying to fact check a story on a partner from Berglund, Thomason and Stewart taking a key post as Independent Counsel on the Financial Oversight case. I couldn’t find Howard, he hasn’t been around all morning. He’s seeking a response or comment.”
“Hmmmm…give him the following response. Ready? Quote. The speculation about Berglund, Thomason & Stewart’s involvement in the Independent Counsel selection, while flattering, is a distraction to the firm’s exceptionally busy practice and current litigation matters. Our clients should continue to expect our focus on their business and not speculation about unconfirmed rumors. End quote. Got that, Kate?
“Yes, sir. I’ll tell him that now. Shall I issue that as a press-release?”
“No, just use that statement if we get any further press inquiries. If the Post is calling, I expect someone’s just bouncing ideas and creating noise, so you might get more calls.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”
Jack fell back in his chair. The intercom rang.
“Yes, Jen?”
“It’s Andrea on 2.”
“Put her through….hi hon. Slight change of plans, is DelFusco's OK with you for dinner?”
“Why, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“Well, how do you feel about DC?”
“What are you talking about?”
“How do I say this – remember Howard’s call yesterday? It was about the Independent Counsel role they’re creating for the Financial Oversight legislation that the House and Senate are expediting. BT&S got selected as lead counsel and lead attorney.”
“That’s great…oh no, that means…”
“Yeah. That’s why I wanted to tell you over dinner.”
Jennifer pops her head back into Jack’s office. “Jack, it’s the Journal on line 3 asking for comment, and the Times on 4 asking for your reaction to the legislation. And there’s someone from SNN on hold on 1.”
“What else could possibly happen?”
“This doesn’t sound like a good time, hon.”
“No, it looks like SNN is trying to go live with the story before I’ve had a chance to tell my staff. Hang on…..Jen, grab Kate and get the release statement I gave to her, use that with the Times and the Journal. I’ll handle the statement with SNN. Go!”
“Hon,” says Andrea, “call me back when you can, sounds like you have your hands full.”
“Give me a couple hours, I’ll explain later. Love you.”
As Jack hangs up, Line 1 is still blinking. “Jack Thomason.”
“Jack, this is Beth Avery, I’m a producer with SNN. We’re about to break the story of your selection as Independent Counsel, and we wanted your comment.”
“My comment is that I’m unaware of any selection that’s been made, and it would be irresponsible reporting to speculate on unconfirmed rumors. While the speculation about Berglund, Thomason & Stewart’s involvement is flattering indeed, it’s a major distraction to our core business of representing our global clients and helping the financial community. Our clients deserve our full and undivided attention, and not be subject to distractions from our core mission. We won’t comment any further.”
“Can we quote you with that?”
“You can do whatever you want with it, we’re not confirming any unsubstantiated rumors.”
“Well, the White House Press Office has indicated that Berglund Thomason is on the short-list and that you were well placed to lead the investigation.”
“Then tell the secretary I’m flattered, but that they shouldn’t be speculating. That’s all I’ll say.” Jack drops the line.
“Jennifer?!”
“Yes, sir?”
“How’d this get leaked?”
“I wish I knew. Should I call the DC office?”
“Yeah, get Tom O’Malley on the phone, try his mobile.”
Jack hung his head in his hands wondering what he’d just gotten himself in for if this was the start of the journey, and whether he would be facing a rougher road ahead. He’d hoped at least for the day to sort out the situation with his family before facing any of the more public scrutiny and constant press releases with which his role would be charged. Never did he imagine that he’d be facing this before lunch.
“Jack, it’s Tom on 2.”
Jack picked up the line. “Tom, how are you?”
“Jack, good to hear your voice – true you’ll be joining us soon?”
“About that…know how that rumor got started?”
“It didn’t come from me, Jack, but you know Howard…you get a few drinks in him, and he talks a blue streak.”
“When did this all happen?”
“Friday night before he caught the Acela back to New York, Howard took a group of us to Posto. By his third Dewars Rocks, he couldn’t stop blabbing that the House and Senate Whips and the House Majority and Minority leaders were all unanimous about you being the guy.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!”
“No. Why?”
“If you were in the Washington Press Corps, where would you hang out to unwind?”
“Posto.”
“Exactly how loud was Howard?”
“You know that chef in the kitchen? The one with the temper? He was yelling to the wait staff something about ‘telling that loud jackass to shut his trap’.”
“This isn’t good. I’m screwed.”
“Jack, am I working for you now?”
“Tom, can we please keep this under our belts until at least Wednesday? I haven’t had any time yet to tell my own staff in New York what’s happening, and I sure don’t want them tuning in to Business News Channel to see the news.”
“Well, we’ve been fielding the requests for comment to New York. So far, the Times has called twice, the Journal, the Daily News, SNN, ITS, MNN, Reuters…our clients are having a hard time getting through for the rumor mill.”
“Start giving them a flat out ‘No comment’ and let them mill on that. SNN and the Times have the official statements, so let them plagiarize each other for today.”
Jennifer walks in, and picks up the television remote. “Jack, SNN right now.”
“Hang on Tom….turn that up.” Jack listens to the sound of his own voice over the television giving the plausible denial to the statement. Jack cursed angrily. “They taped my call without my consent. Jennifer, get SNN on the horn and tell them if they do not cease and desist airing of the content, I’ll have them federally charged with taping a phone conversation without consent. Scream at them. Tom, please get on the horn to SNN and threaten their DC bureau with a Cease and Desist. Let’s see if that shuts them up for now.”
“Sure Jack, anything else?”
“Hang in there. Be there soon.”
Kate buzzes back to Jack’s office. “Sir, your wife’s on line 4, can I put her through?”
“Yes, go ahead….Ange?”
“Love, they just showed the SNN clip in the office, uproarious laughter broke out when you said, 'You can do whatever you want with it’.”
“Honey, this hasn’t turned out to be my day and it’s only Monday. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”
“It’s OK, but my boss scheduled a meeting for 3PM. He wants to know if I’ll still be around.”
“Please tell him that we haven’t discussed this yet and it’s too premature, but assure him that we don’t have any plans to change yet. My career and yours are different issues. Don’t say anything more. Remind him I’m still an attorney.”
“I know. I’m just not used to the attention.”
“It’s the same as it was when I was in the Special Prosecutor’s office…only amplified. I need to talk to my staff, so I’ll call you later.”
“Oh hon…you asked about DelFusco’s? It’s Monday, they’re closed. Any other great ideas?”
“Yes, let’s get out of the city. ASAP. I’ll call when I’m on my way.”
By now, it was 1:30PM. Jack still hadn’t managed to have much appetite for lunch, which consisted of a cold turkey sandwich on rye with mustard. It was his usual standby for occasions when he couldn’t decide on what to eat and would routinely have Jen ring for a lunch delivery. In better times, he’d consider an hour out of the office a necessity to clear his head and focus before the afternoon.
These were not better times.
“Jen, call an emergency meeting in the Conference Room – my team….no, screw it, make it the entire office, just jam them in there, make them fit. 15 minutes.”
“Yes, sir."
Jack had less than 15 minutes to consider what to tell his entire office about the events to come, and how his partner had leaked out a decision without consulting him beforehand. Perhaps, he thought, the call on Sunday was a type of confessor remorse, just as Andrea had wondered aloud. But Jack quickly dismissed all of that knowing that the SNN story would no doubt make it to the Web Page and be quickly consumed, deluging the office with calls. He needed to be careful to not alienate his partner and the firm’s ever-present rainmaker, however fraught with faults. But he also knew that the future of the firm’s business would rest on how carefully they crafted the response.
Jack’s taped remarks on live TV only provided a new kettle of fish from which to pick context. He hadn’t lied, but he certainly didn’t confirm the truth either; he had no choice in front of his staff, and now he needed to save face before the people who’d come to respect him, the staff he’d come to respect over the years, and assure them he wasn’t simply abandoning ship for fame and glory. Frankly, nothing positive would come from this.
The Conference Room was the opposite side of the building’s core, so the distance walked from Jack’s office to the Large Conference facility on the east side of the floor seemed like the longest 3 minute walk of his career. And he wasn’t expecting to see many happy faces at how the news was being broken to his staff – last.
The entire office had assembled in the Conference Room just as Jack walked in to a thunderous round of applause and some handshakes from the junior attorneys as well as some of the senior staff. It was more than he’d expected given the haphazard way in which the news leaked out and grew legs on its own, despite Jack’s own press gaffs.
“You know, this really wasn’t what I intended…” Jack said to a rousing round of laughter. “Could someone tell me how you all found out about this?”