Grand Slam

By Teny Jacobs

Four years after exposing a plot of murder and deception at the Businetex Corporation, Mitch Goldblatt and his family are back in Rochester, NY. All seems right in Mitch's life when, once again, the sudden death of someone dear to him shakes the stability of his existence. While he is still reeling from the shock of his loss, he receives some upsetting news. Mitch finds himself unwittingly drawn into a game of cat and mouse with a clever but crazed adversary. A friend suggests that he think of this as a Bridge game and to pay close attention to his cards. When Mitch takes the advice to heart, he considers the meaning of the revealed clues and is able to prevail. In the aftermath, he finds himself in jeopardy of losing what he holds dearest. He takes a step back and scrutinizes his life, reflecting on the advice to pay attention to the cards he has been dealt. With some skill and a lot of luck, the illusive grand slam is within sight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 5, 2011
• ISBN: 9781105011221

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Grand Slam

A Novel by Teny Jacobs

© 2007 by Teny Jacobs. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4303-1705-0

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to true events or actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidence.

Acknowledgements

There are many people to whom I owe my gratitude for their help while I was writing this book and the previous one, What Remains Behind. I hope those who have supported me since the beginning will forgive my delinquency in not thanking them more promptly.

To Erica Orloff, an extraordinarily talented editor, thank you so much for your generosity with your time and for your invaluable suggestions. You have made me a better writer and I hope that we will have the opportunity to work together again in the future. To the friends and family who read early drafts of my work and encouraged me to persevere, your kind words meant more to me than you can know. I also want to thank Bert Stratton for his encouragement and for knowing how to push gently.

To the OCD people who purchased What Remains Behind in support of the Heart Walk, thank you for your generosity and your welcoming attitudes. To Jill Kless, thank you for your hard work in arranging my first personal appearance. The posters were amazing!

To all the people who read What Remains Behind, provided me with feedback and urged me to write another book, thank you for your support. Being a writer, although it’s what I love to do, is a tough business. You are the part that’s rewarding.

To Doug at the Victor Borders and Joe at Liftbridge Books, thank you for giving an unknown author the chance to be discovered.

Finally, I want to thank my husband, Merrit, for his unwavering support through my sometimes bumpy journey. From designing book covers to formatting text, trying to get my work noticed and whatever else needs to be done, he’s on it as soon as I ask for help. He is truly my better half.

For Spider

Never Forgotten, Always Loved

Trick 1

Mitch

We’re back. To be honest, when my wife and I left Rochester nearly four years ago, I didn’t think that either of us would ever set foot in this town again, but life has a strange way of rearranging your priorities. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of being treated as an outcast. After I exposed a scheme of conspiracy and murder at Businetex, my former employer, I was hailed as a hero, but I had no stomach to stay in my old job. Maybe it was cowardice, but I accepted a position with a small software company in Seattle, Astrid found a job as a stockbroker out there, and we never looked back.

It wasn’t a bad life. Our condo boasted a view of Puget Sound that would knock your socks off, and there were so many transplanted Easterners that it was easy to forget where we were. Astrid’s mother Inga made the move with us, and we visited my mother in Brooklyn at least twice a year, because she stubbornly insisted that she would never fly.

I know it’s hard to believe that anyone would still have that attitude, but Rifka always had a plan of her own that was impenetrable to outside influences. Not long after we moved, we were telling her how beautiful the Pacific Northwest was during one of our weekly phone conversations.

Ma, I suggested, why don’t I get you a plane ticket? You’ll take car service to the airport, and you can come out and see for yourself.

You know I don’t fly, was the predictable reply.

It’s not like we’re asking you to flap your arms, I protested.

It’s no different than riding the subway. You sit in your seat and they do the driving.

What, do I look like, a bird? Did you see feathers the last time you saw me? The subway doesn’t go up in the air. On the train, I always know where I am; I go all the way to Hoyt Street, and it never leaves the ground.

There was no arguing with her kind of logic. Even my sister Marilyn, who was joined to my mother at the hip, could not persuade her to fly with them when she, Bert and their boys visited with us. My mother never visited us in Seattle, even after our daughter Arden was born. We sent her videos, and as soon as the baby was old enough, we hopped on a plane. Apparently, her rule against flying didn’t extend to any of the rest of her family, even her only granddaughter.

I won’t say that Rifka wasn’t happy when we decided to return to New York, even if it was Rochester, and it actually took us longer to drive to Brooklyn than to fly from Seattle. Although she had nothing to do with it, you would have thought she was totally responsible by the amount of satisfaction she derived from hearing the news.

I knew you’d come back! she cackled gleefully.

How did you know? asked Astrid. Each of us was on a phone extension; individual conversations with Rifka were risky. There was safety in numbers where my mother was concerned. We didn’t even know ourselves until this opportunity arose.

You two are New Yorkers, she informed us smugly. I knew you’d find your way home.

We love Seattle, I protested.

It’s not home, was my mother’s confident reply.

It may not have been home but it felt an awful lot like it to us. We had a comfortable condo in a nice neighborhood, friends and good jobs, everything we could want. We had just learned that we were expecting our second child when the rug under me started to slip a bit.

The company I was working for, Coberg, had developed a software program that tripled the speed of most computer chips. In my former job, I had worked on business machines and gained experience with software applications. The people I worked for had given up solid jobs with large companies to follow their own vision. I remember my mother questioning how I could have such faith in this new company, so far away, after my experience at Businetex

How do you know that these people aren’t crooks too? wondered Rifka.

This is a much smaller company, Ma, I had tried to explain. The people in charge have a very personal stake in its success.

What are their credentials? demanded my unflappable mother, sounding very much like an expert on business matters, when in fact her last position had been receptionist at a small beauty parlor.

Dan Weinberg has an MBA from Stanford, I said.

It’s a good school, conceded my mother.

One of the best, I agreed, and he is an expert at the financial aspects of running a company.

That’s all well and good, but what does he know about whatever it is that they make?

I didn’t feel like sharing that he was light on software experience and the least mechanically inclined engineer I had ever met.

That isn’t his job, I said instead, but Howard Cohen, his partner, is an absolute software wizard, a bright and capable guy. You would pick that up after five minutes with him

If he’s such a hot-shot, why do they need you?

I laughed. Howard knows just about everything there is to know about software, but he’s just guessing when it comes to mechanical applications. True, they are talented guesses because there is no denying that Howard is a talented guy. The word genius is not inappropriate, but Howard bristles at the term.

And mechanical applications are your area of expertise? asked my mother.

Definitely, I confirmed. I’m a reasonably competent software engineer, although not nearly as good as Howard, and I have no stomach at all for running the day to day workings of the company. To put it succinctly, we are the perfect threesome, each strong in a different area, none anxious to infringe on the territory of the others.

I was satisfied with my decision to join Coberg. The copyrights and patents on our new product finally had been granted, and we were just beginning to breathe a little easier after a hectic two years when Howard made a startling discovery.

Sales had taken off like a rocket but quickly slowed, and Howard decided to poke around his favorite computer store, to see if there was some marketing problem with our software. All of us were really proud of this product, down to the graphics on the package. When they first started the company, Howard and Dan had adopted a race car theme for naming all their products. Dan and I had used Dragster, our drawing package, to design a futuristic red sports car for the front of the box, and our graphic designers had refined it to perfection. Our market research firm had concluded that it had excellent eye appeal, with enough of a high tech look to avoid being dismissed as another computer game. All market surveys had indicated that there was great interest in this product, as there had been in our previous release, a RAM doubler called Mach II.

The next morning, we could not believe what Howard had to report.

"I know why Speedster is not selling, he announced, sinking into a chair next to Dan’s desk. Netron is giving it away for free with the latest upgrade to their operating system. They’re selling Universe 7 as an upgrade for ten dollars more than Speedster and they’re including their version of our software as a freebie."

They can’t do that! protested Dan. We have patents and copyrights. That’s infringement! They have to pay us royalties!

We have to prove it first, said Howard morosely.

Are you sure that it’s ours? I asked, hardly able to absorb what I was hearing.

Howard looked wounded. I spent two years perfecting that program, he said slowly. They’ve changed the icons and removed the software that allows compatibility with web browsers other than their own, but it’s ours. Maybe you and your hot-shot patent attorney didn’t do as thorough a job on the searches as you thought.

I found that suggestion offensive and told him as much.

I’m sorry, Mitch, I didn’t mean that; I’m just upset.

I nodded. I’m upset too, but we can’t turn on each other. We have to remember who the enemy is and always present a united front.

So where do we go from here? asked Dan.

I’ll call Louis and see what he says, I replied.

I knew what he would say. Louis Neimeyer was the best patent attorney I had ever dealt with, and there were several before him. Louis was livid.

I did those searches myself, Mitch; you went to Washington with me. Those patents are solid, and so are the copyrights. We’re going to sue their butts!

Howard was as gung-ho as Louis but Dan was less enthusiastic. "That’s going to be expensive, guys, and that’s a problem for us. Netron has piles of cash and packs of lawyers at their disposal. We put most of our reserve capital into Speedster, and we were depending on the profits to launch new products in development. Even if we could float a loan to finance a lawsuit, by the time it was over I’m not sure we would have a company left."

So we just roll over and die? I asked.

I don’t know, Mitch, sighed Dan. The problem is, we’re a goldfish trying to do battle with a great white shark. Sometimes, you just have to swim out of the way. I’m not sure that we’re in a position to fight, even if we all know we’re right. Let’s sleep on it.

I’m not the kind of guy who could sleep on that kind of news. Astrid knew as soon as she walked into the house that something was bothering me. While she ate, I toyed with my dinner and poured out the details of the disaster that was befalling Coberg.

One of my clients just settled a case with Netron, she mused, picking at the untouched food on my plate. Even early in her pregnancy, my wife was ravenous. I’ll see if I can find out what it was about and who handled it.

It’s a good thing I don’t have a problem about being married to a successful woman, because Astrid is pretty near the top of her field, if not there already. She was a vice president in the corporate investment division of a large brokerage firm. Her clients tended to be very loyal, and they readily recommended her to their colleagues. She had brought in so much business that her company would bend over backwards to accommodate her. In a bad year, she earned triple what I was making. If you count our personal investments, which she handles with equal skill, she is even more impressive.

First thing in the morning, Astrid called me at work. She sounded really excited. I think I have good news for you. Netron is trying the same thing with you that they did to my client. In his case, they settled out of court. It happened pretty fast, and the legal fees weren’t too bad.

What do you call ‘not too bad?’

About one hundred thousand upfront, which they got back as part of the settlement. I know the lawyer involved, so I took the liberty of giving him a buzz, to see if he would be receptive to your call. He’s very interested in representing you.

That didn’t sound too steep to me for the type of litigation we were considering, and I went happily to Dan to tell him what I’d learned. He was far less optimistic than I had anticipated.

I called a friend of mine who’s a lawyer last night, he informed me. It sounds like infringement to him, and we may be able to get an injunction to stop them from using the program until the matter is resolved, but first we would have to prove to a judge that what they are using belongs to us and is covered by our copyrights and patents.

That shouldn’t be too hard, I said. Louis did the searches himself and he has the documentation.

Yes, agreed Howard, but Netron will insist that they knew nothing about our program, they coincidentally came up with the same idea at the same time, and they will prove that they have the talent and ability to have done it. It’s always an innocent coincidence on their part.

How do you know? I asked.

I used to work for them; I’ve helped them do it in the past, admitted Howard sheepishly.

Astrid has a client who went through the same thing, and Netron settled. The same lawyer would be willing to handle this for us.

But we’d have to expect to pay him one hundred thousand dollars as a retainer, said Dan.

That’s not so much for litigation of this magnitude, and if we win, we’ll get it back, I said, assuming this would be good news.

We don’t have it, said Dan dejectedly.

You can’t tap into your personal resources?

Mitch, neither of us has that kind of money, said Howard.

Sell me a third of the company, I proposed. What do you think its worth?

Howard looked at Dan. Dan stared at me without comment for several moments. About a million and a half, give or take.

I’ll buy a one third interest for five hundred thousand, I proposed. I knew I should not have made this offer without consulting Astrid, but I felt that we could afford it, and I would not finalize anything without her blessing.

No, I don’t think so, said Dan.

Howard sat mutely in his chair.

Why not? I asked.

When we started this company, we made a pact that it would always be just the two of us, explained Dan.

It’s nothing personal, Mitch, added Howard.

So you just watch everything you’ve worked for go down in flames? I asked.

No, we’ll put up as good a fight as we can manage, said Dan.

I’ll loan you the money, I proposed.

We can’t let you do that, protested Howard.

I’m protecting my job, I argued. I’ll loan you the money and when this is over, you can repay me with interest.

What if we lose? asked Dan.

Then I’ll have made a bad investment; I’m not worried.

Once again, life happened while we were making other plans. The lawyer we retained went to Netron heavily armed with precedents of the same type of wrong-doing, proof of copyrights, patent numbers and a request for an injunction, ready for filing. We were going to file suit for nine million dollars, including punitive damages, and we would probably win, he informed them with bravado. In response, while explicitly insisting that they made no admission of wrong-doing, they tendered an offer to acquire Coberg.

What do you think, Mitch? asked Dan, placing the acquisition proposal before us.

I wasn’t a partner, but I was important to their business and we all knew it. I was always afforded the consideration of being consulted on major decisions. I carefully read through the offer that had been made.

They’re offering you over three million plus your legal fees, I finally said, removing my reading glasses. You told me that the company was worth one and a half. Why is it worth double its value to them?

"If our revenues were good enough over the next year with Speedster, it could be worth that much or more, but we got ourselves pretty heavily into debt trying to launch a new product while keeping future development moving along. If we tried to sell on the open market today, we would be real lucky to clear a million after paying off what we owe, but we wouldn’t necessarily have to include products in development. As you can see, this offer includes assumption of any existing debt in exchange for the rights to any works in progress," concluded Dan.

The three million is a sure thing. Grab it and run, I advised.

They’ll let a lot of people go, warned Howard. The inflated price is hush money. They don’t want the brief our lawyer has prepared to ever be seen by anyone connected with Federal anti-trust laws.

I used to have principles too, Howard, I replied sympathetically, but I’ve learned that sometimes you have to do what’s best for yourself. I think that this is one of those times, although I freely admit I’d much rather work for you guys than for Netron, assuming that they’ll have me.

Howard looked at Dan and then both of them looked at me.

Howard and I made a decision, said Dan. After you loaned us the money, we decided that it was only fair to offer you a third of the company. Whatever, we decide, you’re a part of it.

That’s very generous, I said, but all you owe me is one hundred thousand at eight percent. That was our agreement.

We’ve already had the papers drawn up, said Howard. You are a full partner.

That wasn’t part of our agreement, I protested.

It’s the right thing for all of us, said Dan.

You will insult us if you refuse, added Howard.

Even after I insisted on paying for my third of the company, I walked away from that deal half a million dollars richer and retired at forty-two. Well, not exactly retired. Dan, Howard and I decided that we wanted to do something together. The problem was that we had no idea in which direction we would go.

We could start a consulting company, Howard suggested unenthusiastically.

Somehow, Cohen, Weinberg and Goldblatt sounded more like a New York law firm to me than a group of high tech wizards. For lack of a better idea, I began carefully reading the classifieds and The Wall Street Journal, and that was how Businetex entered our plans.

Businetex stock had been down around ten cents a share when all of the sudden, it started to climb. Nothing dramatic, but when I saw it double in value, I began to take notice, although I was unable to find a logical explanation. When I worked for them in the past, they were a company in financial trouble. In an act of desperation, some of the management resorted to a scheme of murder, which brought what had been a solid company to its knees. What had been an admittedly worrisome cash flow problem became a nightmare. The company had been forced to admit liability, and aside from seven cases that had already been settled, there was now a class action suit on behalf of eighty victims pending. The question was not if the plaintiffs would win; that was a given. The real question was how much they would be awarded and how long all of this would drag on.

Interestingly enough, it was my sister Marilyn who saw an item in Newsday that had been picked up by the wire services. She told me about it and I called our friend, Bobbie McCann, who was one of the plaintiffs.

There’s been a settlement offer but I haven’t seen it, she told me. The lawyers want to wait until it can be presented to everyone at once and we all reach a consensus. They sounded optimistic that this is the end. There’s a meeting set for next Wednesday night; I’ll know more then and I’ll call you.

You have more than a casual interest in Businetex, Astrid reminded me, when I related what I learned from Bobbie.

My friend Artie, who had lured me there, was always touting the company, so Astrid did some research and rated it a buy. We started buying stock when it was trading at 19. After I started working there, we periodically increased our holdings. As a signing bonus, I was given stock options that could be exercised after I was with the company for a year. My compensation package included stock and stock options that could be exercised a year after they were awarded. A yearly stock split was pretty much a sure thing. Just before the debacle that led to the lawsuits, the stock was moving up like a rocket and I exercised my options. We converted most of our holdings to cash, planning to buy back in when the all-time high price dropped. Before we had that chance, the illegal doings came to light, and the stock dropped from just over forty-nine to twenty-eight before the SEC suspended trading. When the market reopened, the first quote Astrid could get was thirteen. My remaining options hadn’t vested and we would have lost a fortune if we sold our remaining holdings, so we held on, but it kept dropping like a stone. In the past two years, there had been two reverse splits, ten shares for one, but still, the high had been two dollars and currently, it was trading at around twenty-five cents per share.

You don’t have to remind me that we’re loaded with Busintex stock, I agreed. Artie was there longer than I was, and he never sold a share.

After I blew the whistle on Businetex, Artie’s parents gave me all of his stock. They didn’t want the reminder of Businetex every time a dividend check arrived. After all, this company had cost them their only son. They told me to keep it for the child we were expecting. Bobbie McCann offered to give me her stock too. I insisted on buying it from her for the going price but at that point, it was down to around a dollar a share. As the price continued to plummet, somehow, word spread among the survivors and most of them insisted on giving me their stock, more as a gesture than anything else.

I can’t accept your stock, I had protested to a group of them who showed up unexpectedly at our door as we were preparing to relocate to Washington.

It’s something we want to do, explained a young widow, her infant daughter balanced on her hip. Hannah will never know her father, but another child will, because of what you did. You got to the truth, put a stop to it; you almost lost your wife in the process. Our nearly worthless stock is nowhere close to fair compensation, but maybe as a major stockholder, you will take an interest in the company and keep them honest. More important, if you have a sizeable block of stock, when you talk to them, they’ll have to listen.

Despite all that the company had done, many of these people expressed the hope that Businetex would one day be solid and respected again. At least then, I won’t feel that our only child died for nothing, added an older man, unable to quite conceal the bitterness in his voice.

Because Dan was such an astute businessman, I felt comfortable mentioning my holdings to him and filling him in on what I recently had learned about the company.

He let out a low whistle. That’s a lot of stock.

On paper, yes, I agreed, but it isn’t worth much. We’ve been holding it in the hope that the company would turn around at some future date I dutifully attend stockholders meetings and vote for trustees, but the longer the status quo drags on, the less likely that seems.

Still, on paper, that’s an impressive holding. There must be certain perks to being such a large shareholder.

I’m on a first name basis with the CEO, I offered.

Give him a call and find out what’s up, proposed Dan. He should be willing to share some of the details, considering that this will have an impact on your holdings.

I took Dan’s advice and made the call to Businetex. Reluctantly, the CEO shared the terms of the offer.

We’ve offered ten million dollars per claim plus legal costs. In round numbers, we’re talking about a billion dollars.

It sounds like a fair offer, I observed.

They might not get that much if we took it all the way, said Arthur Gowen.

They might get more, I countered.

That is possible.

Can the company afford it? I asked.

It will be painful, but it can be done, conceded Gowen hesitantly. A lot of real estate will have to be sold and probably a division or two. Would you look upon this favorably?

As a stockholder, of course I don’t want to see that kind of capital outlay, but it seems like a fair offer. Those people are due a settlement; they are entitled to closure.

I’m glad to hear you say that, said Arthur. I think it is necessary, but I fear that people will blame the messenger. I’m not optimistic about my future or the company’s.

Why is that?

Businetex will be a prime target for a hostile takeover, and in the corporate world, I will be remembered as the man who brought the company down.

What about a friendly takeover? I asked.

What have you heard? he asked anxiously.

Nothing, I replied, but a thought crossed my mind. Let me make a few calls and get back to you.

Dan and Howard were more receptive to the idea than I had hoped.

Can we afford it? asked Dan uncertainly, ever the practical businessman.

"My Businetex stock isn’t worth much in dollars, but we can buy a lot more shares cheaply, if this doesn’t get out. I figure that two dollars a share on a buyout would probably do it.

How many shares are outstanding? asked Howard.

I don’t have the exact figure, I replied. Aside from the reverse splits, the company has been buying stock back over the last couple of years to try to bring the price back up, but it hasn’t had much of an effect.

Is it even worth saving? asked Dan. The company took a pretty hard shot to its reputation. Most of the business community can smell blood.

It used to be a top notch company, I said, but no, it’s not a sure thing. It certainly can’t be the old Businetex. It’s going to have to be scaled back to focus on a core business, at least initially, but I think it can be turned around. My opinion is that it’s worth the risk. More to the point, I think the three of us can do it and then, we’ll really have something.

Would we move it out here? asked Howard.

We could, I agreed, but economically, it wouldn’t make sense. The company is all set to go, it’s staffed, it owns the buildings it occupies; it would make more sense for us to go there. How do the two of you feel about Rochester, New York?

We’ve never been there, said Dan, Howard nodding his assent. You tell us; will we like it?

Spring, summer and fall, you’ll love it, I predicted. The finger lakes area is beautiful, the weather isn’t any worse than most places-there’s a lot less rain than here-and it’s only three and a half hours from Toronto, which I know you will love. It’s like Vancouver with an infrastructure, on an overdose of caffeine.

So what’s the problem? asked Dan.

It’s called winter, I said morosely. The snow can be beautiful, but it gets old in a hurry. Then, there are ice storms, which don’t happen often, but once you’ve lived through one, believe me, you won’t forget it. Think of Hell frozen over.

How long does this last? asked Howard.

It can stretch on from October to May in a bad year. Sometimes, you get lucky and there’s a mild winter, but it rarely starts later than November or ends before mid-April.

You lived through it, observed Dan. You can fill us in on the tricks to survival.

Down jackets, four-wheel drive vehicles and winter vacations to someplace warm, I replied. Other than that, I know of no cure but waiting for spring.

You think we’re not as tough as you are? teased Howard.

Then you would be agreeable to the idea? I asked. How would Mary feel?

I’m her husband, said Howard. I think she will want to be where I am.

Her family is in Seattle, I pointed out.

We’re going to be successful at this, aren’t we? asked Howard.

That’s the general idea, I agreed.

Then I’ll take them with us, or I’ll send plane tickets for them to visit whenever they want. Problem solved.

He made it sound so simple that I nearly forgot how my own wife might react to this proposal. Astrid was very happily settled into her job, and her firm’s closest office to Rochester was in the Wall Street district of New York City, hardly commuting distance. That evening, I sheepishly, told her what I was thinking.

That’s a great idea! she said enthusiastically.

I didn’t expect you to take it so well. You do plan to come with me?

‘Whither thou goest…’ she replied with a wink.

What about your job?

Actually, this couldn’t have come at a better time. The company has been toying with the idea of opening an office in upstate New York. Rochester, Syracuse and Buffalo have all been discussed. They asked me if I would consider managing it, but of course, I had to decline while you were with Coberg. When this buyout talk began, I made some inquiries about whether the offer was still open, and the response was positive. They are leaning toward Buffalo as the location, but I think I could make a persuasive argument that Rochester is more centrally located for the region.

It sounds perfect, I said.

There are several down sides, she said. I would have to be in New York, probably once a week and maybe more often, until things are running smoothly. If I want to keep any of my accounts, I’ll be doing two jobs, at least initially. There will be long hours, high stress and let’s not forget, I’m pregnant.

Are you up to it?

I think so. I really want to do this, Mitch.

Then you should.

I didn’t expect you to be so supportive, she said, smiling wryly.

I have to assume you know what you’re doing, I said. If it gets to be too much, I trust you to think of the baby and slow down.

I will, she promised. So far, I feel sensational. I’ve only had morning sickness for about two minutes.

Not like last time, I replied.

Nothing like it, she replied, and all the more reason for me to keep busy.

Why is that?

To keep my mind off what could go wrong. This is more like the first time.

Astrid was married before, and she and her former husband lost their child.

It’s too early for you to know that, I protested. You shouldn’t feel movement yet. What does your doctor say?

She says everything is fine, the ultrasound looks normal; I saw the heartbeat myself.

Then don’t worry; this child will be as perfect as Arden is.

We’ll have to find child care again, she warned.

That was something I had not considered. We had an excellent housekeeper who was great with our daughter, was delighted about Astrid’s pregnancy, and she ran our household like a well-oiled machine. She was insulted that we hired someone to do the heavy cleaning, and when Tammy left, Ida always went over her work, although it was totally unnecessary. It was almost as if she was marking her territory.

And what about your mother? I questioned. She relocated with us the last time; she’s made friends here, found a job. Will she pick up and move again?

She once told me that her granddaughter was like a carrot dangling from a stick to her, but we’ll have to see.

We’re getting ahead of ourselves, I agreed. I don’t even know if we can acquire Businetex; I have to find out what it will cost.

I can do that for you, said Astrid, heading for the computer. She punched in a series of commands, numbers, I don’t know what else. They’ve downsized considerably since you worked there and some of the more valuable real estate has already been sold. Assuming that they will have to sell off more real estate and possibly a division or two to raise the capital for the settlement, about six million for the remainder with no cloud over it, she said.

Any offer would be contingent on the company being debt and liability-free, but I still don’t know if we can come up with that much, I sighed.

Sure you can, she replied.

Even if we put in everything from the takeover, that leaves us three million short, I said. Essentially, all we are buying is a name. Nothing much new is on the horizon; things have been pretty much at a standstill while management tried to extricate the company from the legal quagmire.

You will have the buildings, the personnel and most of all, your talent. The three of you can make something of this. The real estate that remains can be used as collateral for some loans, and you can raise capital by a new public offering of stock. It’s doable. The stock has been delisted, so reasonably small trades won’t get much attention. You hold too much stock to buy more but Howard and Dan can acquire some shares discreetly. You could probably acquire controlling interest or close to it. If you keep this under wraps for a while, I think it has a better chance.

Howard, Dan and I got together the next day and I went through Astrid’s figures for them.

What do you think? I asked.

I have never even had a car loan in my life, said Howard. I can’t imagine owing millions of dollars.

We won’t personally owe it, I explained. The company will assume the debt and pay it off from the profits.

Assuming there are profits, said Dan. What do we know about business machines? Howard is a software wiz and I’m an MBA. How can we do this? It’s not our field.

It’s closer than you think, I replied. When you hired me, you thought I was a good fit.

And we were right, said Dan.

"My expertise at Businetex was in high speed printers, and that will be our core business. Smaller, better, faster and cheaper: that will be our game plan. Customer service will always come first with us; that was the Businetex philosophy in the past, and it was what made it a successful company.

Businetex needs solid management. That’s you, Dan. There are a lot of people who worked for me at Businetex who were top notch. If they are gone, I think I can get some of them back. We can get a good product out quickly and rebuild the reputation to go with the name.

And what am I supposed to do? asked Howard.

All of this hinges on you, I replied. What makes a printer run faster and better?

The software, said Howard.

Exactly, I replied, and we have the best software engineer in the business as a partner, and that’s not flattery; it’s the truth.

How much will it cost us personally? asked Dan.

I can’t acquire more shares without reporting it to the SEC, and that will attract attention to the stock and raise the price, but you two can acquire some stock under the radar. You may use my share of the buyout money if you need it, but I can’t be involved.

How much per share? asked Dan.

It’s somewhere around a quarter a share right now, but it will go up when investors spot a trend, I replied.

Dan grinned broadly. We can do this.

I think so, I agreed.

It shouldn’t even wipe us out personally, said Howard.

As long as the market doesn’t catch wind of it too soon, Dan observed.

The only person I’ve told is Astrid, I replied.

Dan looked alarmed. Mitch, she’s a stockbroker! If she turns her clients on to Businetex, the price will shoot up!

No chance, I said confidently. First of all, she knows that what I told her was in confidence, and second of all, if she acted, that would be insider trading, and she wouldn’t want our child to be born in Federal prison. The only way the stock will go up dramatically is if you buy shares in large enough blocks to attract attention. It will go up some as you start to buy, but probably a series of smaller acquisitions is wiser. Use multiple brokers and make no purchase larger than a thousand shares at a time.

Howard and Dan looked at each other.

So what do you think? I asked.

It sounds like a winner, said Dan. Howard?

You think we can make a go of this, Mitch?

I have every confidence, I replied. I’ve thought for a while that we’re an unbeatable team but have no illusions: this isn’t going to be easy.

Since I was a little boy, I’ve enjoyed a challenge, replied Howard, offering me his hand.

Dan placed his hand on top of ours and so, the new Businetex was born, and we came to be where we are now.

Trick 2

Howard

Howard Cohen is like no one else I have ever met. I will freely concede that he is unquestionably a genius, and you don’t come across many of those, but that is only one small aspect of what makes him unique. When he is described as one of the most brilliant software engineers anywhere, a stereotype comes to mind of a tall, thin, Jewish guy with a big nose, dark, curly hair, black plastic-rim glasses and a pocket protector. That was what my mother was thinking the first time I mentioned his name.

Weinberg and Cohen, my mother repeated smugly. You’ll be working with two nice Jewish boys. I like the sound of that.

You’re right about Dan, Ma, but where Howard is concerned, you’re not even close! I laughed.

He’s not nice?

No, he’s very nice; he’s not Jewish.

With that name? wondered Rifka.

I have to admit that when I first heard Howard’s name, I too expected the stereotype. That misconception was soon dispelled. Howard is of medium height, medium build, and he has worn wire-rimmed aviator glasses for as long as I’ve known him. He abhors pocket protectors. He does have dark hair and eyes, but his hair is ramrod straight and his nose is flat and wide, as befits a Chinese man.

He’s Chinese? asked my mother incredulously, when I relayed that detail.

Yes, Howard is Chinese, and there’s no romantic story about how he was adopted and rescued from some horrible life in a Chinese orphanage by benevolent Jewish Americans, I explained. Howard came to Los Angeles from Taipei with his family when he was five. His parents had both accepted professorships at UCLA. When he was naturalized, although he was still a child, he decided he should have an American name. His parents, who encouraged individuality among their three offspring, supported his decision and helped him to legally change his name through the courts.

Why did he choose that particular name? wondered my mother.

"The way in