Baiting & Fishing Page 16

  “He captivated me with his vision. He had breeding and class, which I lacked, but we shared the same vision that those who 'have' ought to share with those who 'have not'. In a way it wasn't much to go on, given the enormity of all the other differences between us, but it was something. More importantly, we each had something the other lacked. We also learned very quickly that our personalities were opposites, but in many ways complementary.

  “I fell in love with him largely because I thought he was everything I was not: comfortable with his money, socially at ease, and he seemed to have a purpose in his life that I lacked.

  “It took me a long time to understand what Roland saw in me. I eventually came to understand that he admired and even envied my fearlessness. I can take about anything life dishes out. My most profound experience as a kid was standing in the aft of the boat a few days after my mother's funeral. Dad was in the wheelhouse, oblivious to my very existence, much less presence on the boat. I was ten years old. I had lost my mother and I was utterly bereft. Everything in me cried out for Dad to hold me in his lap so we could cry together. He was a kind, generous and loving man, but it never once occurred to him that I might have, as they say today, 'issues'. His cure for his grief (and, make no mistake, my father loved, adored and idolized my mother; his grief was enormous and he never really got over it) was to throw himself into his work.

  “The few months after Mother died, we worked constantly. It never crossed his mind that I might need consolation from him. I can't fault him for that. I didn't even fault him at the time because I knew how deeply he was hurting. He had no consolation to give. Still it is a big deal, at ten years of age, to know that you are pretty much on your own, at least emotionally. Dad fed me, clothed me (at least as well as befitted a second mate on a fishing boat), and made sure I went to school often enough to keep the truant officer away. Beyond that, I was totally on my own. At first, I was terrified. Somehow I managed to survive. I don't think I've been afraid of anything since.

  “Roland liked that because he was a sort of coward. He had a good heart and he was smart, but he was weak and he was afraid to take risks. Significantly, he was easily deceived. I know there are a lot of people, including the thousands of his former employees who lost everything they had when Techtron collapsed, who think he was a criminal. In my heart, to this day, I don't think that's true. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm deluding myself to cover up for the fact that I hitched my wagon to a star that fell so dramatically. Whatever the reason, I still have trouble seeing Roland as the perpetrator of the crime and not one of its many victims.

  “The press spun the story as one of greed. They said Roland got greedy and went along with the scheme to rip off Techtron's stockholders by falsifying the records on revenue. I have never believed that. I know from up-close observation how easily he could ignore huge issues that were right in front of him if they were 'difficult'. I know how he trusted the people around him to do the right thing. I know that his was the vision that set the whole thing in motion, but he did not have the technical ability to understand the complex accounting weirdness that was going on, the interest in details to try to figure it out or the courage to confront people when the questions started to bubble up around him. Roland was a big-picture kind of guy. He left the details to others. The press and, therefore, the American people saw him as the Bad Guy: A real-life Gordon Gecko whose Greed cost him and his employees everything they had.”

  She paused, shook her head and studied her hands for a long moment.

  He was holding his breath, but he could not stop himself from asking, “Do you know who was behind it?”

  She thought about that for a minute and then said with a wry look, “I suppose the truth of that is that we all sort of were.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shrugged, “I believe that whoever was behind the whole thing presented themselves as his friends and loyal employees, while they were systematically setting him up. The rest of us who were close to him didn't do enough to make him pay attention. There were a couple of people within Techtron who were worried and who tried to warn him that something was wrong. He ignored them. I was not involved with Techtron at all. My job was to be the wife and charity-lady, so I didn't know what was going on. But, I've got great instincts, and my instincts told me that something smelled. I tried to tell him. He pooh-poohed it. I let it go to avoid making him mad.”

  Ray asked, “Are the bad guys in jail?”

  She thought about that for a minute and said, “Remember, I don't know the whole story myself, but, I think that the people who are in jail are guilty of the things they were convicted of doing. There was stock manipulation. There was bogus accounting. There was every manner of lying and conniving and screwing with numbers. The people who are in jail were involved in that stuff.

  “I have always thought there was more to it. I have nothing to go on except the gut feeling I had when we went to some remote places where schools or government agencies were supposedly buying the computers we were selling. I always had the feeling that more was going on than selling computers, but I never could figure out what it was.”

  “Drugs?”

  She made a face, “No, I don't think so. In fact, I'm pretty sure it wasn't drugs, but I think there was some kind of other deals going on. I just don't know what.”

  “Did you ever say anything to your husband?”

  She paused for a long time and said, “I will answer that, but please don't use it. I did mention to him a couple of times that I had a creepy feeling about some of his customers. I never knew about the corruption within Techtron, because I had hardly any contact with the Techtron people. I had all kinds of bad feelings about Techtron's customers. They were bureaucrats in developing countries. Many of them had access to money (a lot of money!) for the first time in their lives and they were the only ones in their circle who did. I thought there was rampant and ubiquitous bribery and corruption. I was concerned and I mentioned it to Roland a couple of times. He told me not to worry about it.

  “He thought that for one thing it was sort of the price of doing business in certain countries and, what was more, he saw himself as kind and generous and he felt that if we could help people out by putting a few extra dollars in the pockets of our clients' employees, well, what would be the harm. I assumed he knew more about it than I did, but I never liked the feeling that Techtron was involved in kickbacks and bribery. What is more, I never shook the feeling that there was more to it than the normal amount of palm greasing that is more or less a cost of doing business in some parts of the developing world.

  “Today, I feel like an idiot that I never even suspected all the bad stuff that was going on right here under our noses at Techtron while I was worried about payoffs to small time bureaucrats in poor countries.”

  He thought about it, “But what if you are right? What if there was large scale corruption and bribery – or worse – going on. That would account for some of the hundreds of millions of dollars that are still missing and it would also explain a lot of the accounting irregularities.”

  She made a face, “It might explain the missing money, but it doesn't explain what they were doing behind the scenes that would have required them to spend so much in bribes. I mean, I can understand their paying kick-backs to bureaucrats in order to get contracts, but I can't imagine that would account for the millions upon millions of dollars that have never been found.

  “In any case, for the first few years of our marriage, life was good. Roland and I were sort of the king and queen of Atlanta. We were America's do-good billionaires trying to educate the poor children of the world. It was swell for a while.

  “But when it all came crashing down, Roland couldn't take it. There were people in the company who stood up and did the right thing, cooperating with the government and telling the truth. There were a few who checked out and headed for Argentina or somewhere with no extradition treaties with the U. S. The worst of them scurried around trying to
cover up what they had done, and making things much worse. Ultimately, the company collapsed. Some of the people turned state's evidence. Some maintained their innocence. All of them were guilty of something. A bunch of people went to jail. Thousands upon thousands of Techtron's employees lost all their retirement savings, and its investors lost money, too.

  “I swear to God I have never been so angry about anything in my life as I was when Roland killed himself to avoid going to jail. That may reflect poorly on me as a person. I'll admit to you that my anger has almost overwhelmed my grief. I loved him when he was alive, please understand that. I really did. And I supported him until the end. But, killing himself and letting me and his few remaining friends and supporters deal with the mess alone was, in my opinion, an act of cowardice that I will never be able to forgive.” Her voice trembled with anger. Her eyes were hot and dry. She clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap.

  He drove for a while in silence and let her compose herself. Eventually he cleared his throat and said, “Forgive me, but I have to ask this question. I swear it will never go past me, but I have to know. Do you feel that you owe the employees of Techtron something? Do you feel the least bit bad about living in luxury when so many of Techtron's employees were left with nothing?”

  She glared at him as if he were an idiot, “I would most certainly feel that way if I were living on money I got from Techtron or from Roland. I am not. I live on my own money. It did not come to me from Roland or Techtron or anyone connected with either of them. The liquidator took the houses and cars. I sold the yacht and turned in that money to the government. I feel bad about the people of Techtron who were screwed by their employer. I don't have any of that money. If I did, I would give it back to the Techtron employees. ”

  She chuckled, “Or, I would be in jail and the government would have it like they have the rest of the money they somehow managed to find.”

  He said, “I thought the government was giving that money to the Receiver to go back into the Techtron retirement plan.”

  She laughed, “Don't be naive! The Justice Department agreed to turn over to the retirement fund any money it recovered after taking out the government's expenses for prosecuting the case. They recovered about $50 million. So far the government has kept it all. I know this because Roland was enrolled in the Techtron retirement fund. As his beneficiary, I get legal notices from the Plan. The balance in the retirement fund is still zero.” She made a noise in the back of her throat. “You want a story about how who is now taking a turn raping the former employees of Techtron? There's one.”

  She looked out the window for a few minutes and then said quietly, “I'd like to change the subject, if you don't mind.”

  Ray nodded and reached out to pat her hand.

  After a few minutes he asked her if she had ever been on an air boat. She told him she hadn't. He made a sudden stop at a roadside gas station and mini-market. The young native American woman at the counter greeted him with a warm smile and a hug. He introduced her to Marcella and asked if her father was around. She shook her head and said he was in Tampa for a tribal meeting at the Hard Rock Hotel.

  He laughed, “Do you appreciate as much as I do the delicious irony of a bunch of Indians getting filthy rich off white people losing their money in a gambling casino??”

  The girl laughed. “I don't know about filthy rich, but at least we're not on welfare anymore. We laugh about it all the way to the bank. The board of directors has a running joke about how they have plans to put smallpox infested blankets on the beds of the hotel.” She giggled and made what was supposed to be a sheepish face, “What do you need Dad for?”

  Ray said, “My friend here has never explored the 'Glades and has never had the serene and peaceful pleasures of riding on an air boat with your father.”

  She laughed and said that she hoped they would come back soon in order to rectify that gap in his friend's life. They chatted for a while and then Ray and Marcella continued on their way, promising to come back soon for a tour.

  Ray took a turn at story-telling, filling her in on his time in the Everglades while her life was coming unglued in Atlanta. She asked a lot of questions and made it clear she would love to explore the Everglades with him and his Miccosukee friends. She told him that, given her background, she understood as well anyone how important the water and wildlife are to the life of the state. He smiled thinking that she really was something of a do-gooder at heart.

  He dropped her off at her house and then headed home. He debated about checking his voice mail, but decided to do so just in case he had got lucky and the editorial meeting scheduled for Wednesday morning was canceled.

  He had no such luck on that score, but among the messages on his voice mail was one from Karen Thompson in Atlanta. She said she had found out that the Wilsons were members of the Buckhead club and, as she suspected, they were much more active there than at church. Roland played golf, Marcella played tennis and visited the gym nearly every day. They were regular diners in the restaurant. There was nothing particularly unusual about their participation in the club.

  Ray returned her call. They chatted for a couple of minutes and he asked her if she would be interested in doing some more research. He said, “This could cost a little money, because I want you to go as deep as you can go, even if it means paying for information. I'll send you a couple of hundred dollars to get started. Let me know if you need more.

  “I want you to help me fill in the gaps in this story.”

  He told her the story Marcella had given him speculating as to the approximate date ranges. “I want to know whatever information you can dig up on her. There is no screaming rush on this. Let me know whatever you can come up with.”

  She chuckled on the other end of the phone. “I love being friends with reporters. I'm a sort of frustrated Jessica Fletcher; I love to solve mysteries. I'll get back to you.”

  Chapter 15

  Ray and Marcella continued to see each other several times a week. They ran together. They went fishing in Ray's boat. Occasionally they had dinner at Cap'n Dick's or, occasionally, one of the nicer restaurants in town.

  After their close call with intimacy in the Keys, Ray expected their relationship to progress. Marcella, however, pulled back from him. It was as though they were back where they started. Things seemed almost strained between them. Ray told himself that the traumatic way her marriage had ended would, of course, make her very nervous about embarking on a new relationship. He admitted to himself he was disappointed because he knew he was falling in love with her and he felt ready to move forward at the same time she was pulling away from him. He tried, with difficulty, not to let his impatience show. He was certain that if he rushed her, he would risk scaring her away altogether.

  A couple of weeks after they came back from the Keys, she told him she had to go out of town. As usual she did not say where she was going or when she would be back. For some reason those trips bothered him. He tried to shake it off because he knew part of the reason it bothered him was because he was used to talking to her almost every day and she never called him when she was away. He tried calling her cell phone a few times when she was away and he always got her voice mail. She did not return his calls.

  One afternoon the weekend before Thanksgiving she phoned to let him know she was back. They talked for a few minutes. She did not say where she had been or what she had done. Ray didn't ask. He was just glad to have her back.

  Before they hung up, Ray asked, in a tone he hoped to hell sounded casual, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

  She didn't answer immediately. She sounded a little surprised, “I don't know. I honestly hadn't even thought about it.”

  “What do you usually do on Thanksgiving?”

  She laughed. “When I was a kid, we went fishing on Thanksgiving. We often got charters on the weekend after Thanksgiving but Thursday and Friday were almost always totally dead. On Thanksgiving Day Dad and I would go fishing if the weather was
good; sometimes we would go with other captains, but usually it was just us. We could typically stock the freezer for the winter with our catch from the day. Friday was a heavy work day; we spent the whole day doing maintenance and repairs on the boat.

  “Between my dad's death and my marriage, I tended to spend Thanksgiving as a guest of whoever invited me to share their holiday. Roland and I always spent Thanksgiving with his family. That ruined Thanksgiving for me forever, I fear.”

  “Do you still keep in touch with his family?”

  She laughed out loud saying, with a tone of bitterness bordering on hatred, “Hell, no. They could scarcely manage to be civil to me when he was alive, and then they only bothered to so much as acknowledge my presence when he was in the room. They didn't know where I came from, but they could tell I wasn't 'one of them' if you know what I mean. His mother hated me from the minute we met, which meant the rest of the family was forbidden to accept me no matter what. No one from his family so much as spoke to me at his funeral nor have I seen or spoken to any of them since. I don't expect that to ever change.”

  She paused, and changed her tone, “What do you do on Thanksgiving?”

  He laughed. “You're going to think I'm weird.”

  “Try me.”

  “Well, I usually go out on the water in the morning. There is hardly any boat traffic. In the afternoon, I watch hours and hours of football on TV.”

  “What do you eat for Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “Not turkey. I don't like turkey. Usually I either grill some fish or, more often, I eat chips and salsa all day long while watching sports and I never actually eat a meal.”

  She laughed, “I don't like turkey either, but I don't think I could eat chips and salsa all day. If you would like, why don't you take me fishing in the morning. I'll catch us something to eat for dinner. I'll cook dinner while you watch football.”

  “Hot dog! A woman who fishes, cleans the fish and cooks it while I watch TV. I must be living right!”