Shell Game (Stand Alone 2) (34 page)

“It can’t be that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you, Carrie. Come on, what else?”

“Well, I might have cold-cocked the husband when he tried to get fresh with me.”

“He touched you?” Mike asked, his eyes now slits.

“He tried to,” Carrie answered, wondering at Mike’s reaction.

“I’m going to rip his balls off.”

A woman at a table several feet away scowled at Carrie and covered the ears of a little girl seated next to her. The little girl was laughing hysterically.

Carrie put a finger to her lips, telling Mike to keep his voice down.

“Okay, here’s the deal. My mother, Wendy Folsom, and I are staying here in room 1045. We’ll be here until tomorrow morning. I want you two to watch the hotel once it gets dark until we leave in the morning, and then follow us to my mother’s place. Then I’m going to move Mrs. Folsom down to Cape May to a bungalow there. As long as she doesn’t use her credit cards or her cell phone, her husband shouldn’t be able to find her. Hopefully, they’ll throw his ass in jail and she can go somewhere where she can make a new life for herself. Once we get her to Cape May, your job will be done.”

“You call it a job. Does that mean we’re going to be compensated?” Darren asked, smiling.

“Of course,” she said. “You’ll receive the most valuable compensation there is: My undying gratitude and eternal respect.”

“Thank goodness,” he said. “I thought we might be working for nothing.”

Then Darren told her to come outside with them. At his car, he popped the trunk, removed a satchel, and handed it to her. “Just in case,” he said.

At 10 a.m., Paul Sanders met with Byron LaMotte, the most respected district judge in the Philadelphia area. The judge gave Paul the opportunity to brief him on background information behind the reason for his injunction request. This was more leeway than the judge would have granted most attorneys, but Paul was an old friend and a respected colleague.

After Paul had finished his presentation, Judge LaMotte said, “I think you knew what I would say when you walked in here. I agree there is plenty of circumstantial evidence showing that your client has been, at a minimum, taken advantage of, and at worst, cheated out of the ownership of his company. But there isn’t evidence a crime has been committed. In the absence of such evidence, I am not about to set a precedent that would undermine the contractual rights of lending institutions. I’m sorry, Paul, but you’re going to have to come up with something more definitive for me to take action.”

Paul was dejected, but not surprised. “I appreciate your time, Judge. You’re right. I anticipated you would rule as you have, but I had to try anyway. I have never seen a more inequitable situation.”

Paul left the courthouse and called Edward’s cell. As the phone rang he considered that he might have misspoken to Judge LaMotte. He had seen a situation at least as inequitable as what was happening to Edward. It was when Frank Winter, Edward’s father, had died and Gerald Folsom took over Winter’s bank and real estate assets, stealing Frank Winter’s legacy to his wife and children.

“Hello.”

“Edward, it’s Paul. I just left Judge LaMotte’s chambers. He declined my request for an injunction against the bank.”

“Thanks for trying, Paul. It was a long shot. You said so yourself last night.”

“How’s Betsy?”

“She’s doing great. The hospital will be discharging her on Saturday afternoon.”

“Have you decided about Folsom’s offer?”

“I decided last night,” Edward said. “I was just waiting to see what happened with the judge this morning. I don’t have a choice. It’s the only way my people will keep their jobs.

“I do need your help on something, though. Cunningham said on the call last night that Folsom wanted Winter Enterprises to manage the restaurants. I want to hold a special board meeting. The only items on the agenda will be my resignation from the company and Nick Scarfatti’s promotion to CEO. We’ll hold the meeting after we sign the documents with Folsom. He won’t like it, my being gone, but after the deal is executed, there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“What are you going to do, Edward?”

“I’m going to start again in New York. Pete Mora at Hot N’ Chili folks already said they will work with me. The money in the company’s account at Third Community Bank should be more than enough to open a couple stores and cover working capital until the stores are cash flowing. I should be in good enough condition within two years to bring Nick over, assuming he’ll want to.”

“The cash sitting in your account at Third Community Bank is an asset of the corporation. Cunningham said the deal was for all corporate assets.”

Edward’s jaw clenched and he took in a great breath. “Paul, without that cash, I might as well fight Folsom and let the bank go through the whole foreclosure process. I don’t think he wants that. Make sure the agreement excludes those monies.”

“Okay, I’ll get on it.”

“By the way,” Edward said, “did you see this morning’s paper?”

“No, I didn’t get the chance. Why?”

“The
Journal
had a front-page article about Folsom and Broad Street National Bank. It had a lot of innuendo wrapped around some interesting facts and figures. The bottom line is it makes Folsom look like the asshole he is.” Edward laughed. “He’s got to be fuming.”

Folsom hadn’t been able to sleep most of the night. He’d finally dropped off at 5 a.m. and woke at 10:30 a.m. when he heard the cleaning lady moving around.

“Sonofabitch!” he groaned as he sat on the side of his bed and used his hands to brush his hair off his forehead. He showered and shaved and then went downstairs, where he knew Esmeralda would have coffee and the morning paper waiting for him.

“Good morning, Meester Fullsome,” Esmeralda greeted him.

“
Fullsome
, my ass,” he muttered under his breath.

“You want
café
?” she asked.

“Yes, Esmeralda.”

“The paper ees on the table.”

Folsom moved to the kitchen table and sat down, slipping the rubber band off the paper and spreading it out in front of him as Esmeralda placed a cup to the side of the newspaper. He lifted the cup, but stopped halfway to his mouth as his gaze froze on the headline: BROAD STREET NATIONAL BANK AND THE FDIC. Under the banner headline, in smaller print, was: COMPLAINTS AND CHARGES OF CORRUPTION.

If that headline wasn’t enough to ruin his day, the first paragraph of the article guaranteed it:

From a complex collection of information gathered by this newspaper, including statements provided by the former president of Broad Street National Bank and documents submitted by the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, it has become apparent that activities of Broad Street National Bank’s new owner, Folsom Financial Corporation, are destroying perfectly viable businesses in the Philadelphia area. Additionally, it appears the bank’s actions are personally benefitting Folsom Financial Corporation’s owner, Gerald Folsom, at the expense of the bank’s customers.

Folsom threw the cup at the wall, shattering it and splashing coffee on the wall paper and the floor.

Esmeralda screamed.

“Bastards!” Folsom shouted, “Goddam bastards!”

He stood and stormed around the kitchen. “Clean this shit up,” he yelled at Esmeralda.

Esmeralda snatched her purse from the kitchen counter and marched out of the room toward the front door without a backwards look, cursing under her breath, “
Pendejo! Hijo de puta!
”

Folsom momentarily froze, surprised at his maid’s sudden backbone. He watched her leave and then cursed her and all women. He then ran to the telephone and called Jeffrey Rose.

“Have you seen the newspaper?” Folsom shouted into the receiver.

“Sure,” Rose answered.

Folsom thought his lawyer sounded shockingly calm.

“We’d better meet. A lot of damage control needs to be done. You need to hire a public relations expert, Jerry; this is a mess. Can you be at my office by noon?”

Folsom agreed and hung up. He didn’t know what to do with himself and this vulnerable feeling. Things had started to unravel after he took over Broad Street National Bank and the bank calling the Winter Enterprises loan.

“Those fucking Winters!”

The telephone rang.

“What!”

“Jerry, it’s Sandy. We’ve got a problem down here. The newspaper story this morning has caused a run on the bank and we’ve got depositors lined up around the block wanting to close their accounts. Also, I got a call a couple minutes ago from a Henry Rentz at the FDIC in D.C. He’ll be here this afternoon at 3 and he wants you here.”

“Fuck him!” Folsom screamed. “No two-bit government bureaucrat is going to give me orders.”

“This isn’t a two-bit bureaucrat, Jerry. This guy is one of the top people at the agency. You don’t want to screw with him.”

“Whose side are you on, Sandy?”

“That’s twice you’ve questioned my loyalty in the past few days. I know you’re under a lot of pressure. But, if you question my commitment again, I’ll walk and you can deal with the bank and regulators by yourself.”

Folsom was just about to tell Cunningham to take a walk, and what he could do during that walk, but stopped himself at the last instant.

“I apologize, Sandy. I’ll see you at 3. In the meantime, make sure there’s enough cash in the vault to give the depositors their money. But close the doors at 3 sharp. This should blow over during the weekend.”

“I don’t know, Jerry. The newspaper’s going to run two more articles over the next two days. We might be inundated on Monday morning with more people wanting to take out their money.”

“We’ll talk about that after the FDIC guy leaves.”

“By the way, Edward Winter called. He’s agreed to take your offer and will sign over all of his rights in return for you keeping the business open. And he’s agreed to have Winter Enterprises continue to manage the restaurants. We’ll have to agree to compensation, so let me know what you have in mind.”

“Let’s discuss that later, too.”

Folsom replaced the receiver and commended himself on his restraint on not telling Cunningham to go screw himself. Cunningham would be the perfect fall guy. All of his orders about bank customers had been made through Cunningham, and they had all been delivered to Cunningham verbally. Nothing was in writing. He could claim Cunningham let the power of his position go to his head. That he was operating independently and not keeping Folsom informed of his actions.

“Eddie, it’s Carrie.”

“Hey, Sis. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, fine. Betsy doing okay?”

“Great. They’re keeping her in the hospital for another night. She’ll be home tomorrow.”

“I’ll stop by and see her today,” Carrie said. “The reason I called is to tell you we’re moving out of the hotel tomorrow morning. Wendy’s going down to the Cape. She’ll stay there until things settle down.”

“Tell her to stay off the phone.”

Carrie laughed. “I think she’s learned that lesson.
You
okay?”

“I’m pissed and I’m frustrated, but I’m okay. I remember Dad telling me life isn’t fair, but I never believed it could be this unfair. Maybe someone will pay Folsom back one day, but I’m not optimistic. Guys like Folsom always seem to come out smelling like roses.”

“Don’t be too sure about that, brother. Between Wendy’s complaint against him and the newspaper articles, maybe things are starting to fall apart for him.

“One other thing, those two men who helped me at Pastorius Park are going to watch the hotel tonight.”

“You expecting trouble?”

“Just being cautious. I’m certain Folsom was behind the last attempt on Wendy’s life. With all the pressure on him, he could go off the deep end.”

Katherine sat in a chair next to Betsy’s hospital bed while Betsy nursed the baby.

“He’s going to grow fast if he keeps eating like that,” Katherine said, marveling at the hungry baby.

“He’s just like his father, passionate about everything, even his food.”

Katherine laughed. “Eddie has always been able to eat anything and everything and has never had a weight problem. Lucky. I gain weight if I even look at food.”

The two women sat quietly for a while, and then Betsy said, “I’ve only known Eddie for a little less than three years. Can you tell me how losing his company will affect him?”

Katherine thought about the question. “Both of my children are tough and resilient. They’re survivors. The loss of the restaurants will be difficult for Eddie to take, but not difficult for him to live with. He’ll recover emotionally and financially. That’s not what I’m worried about. Eddie and Carrie have an almost unnatural sense of right and wrong. When they see someone being wronged, they want to make things right. To nurture the wronged party and to punish the abuser. Gerald Folsom has done so much wrong in his life—a lot to this family. I just hope they don’t try to make him pay.”