Green Kills (10 page)

Chicago, October 18, 2013, 5:25 PM

The wind blew so violently it seemed to penetrate the window
frame on the Sears Tower’s twelfth floor. The large man moved to sit on the
other side of his impressive desk. The telephone rang. He stretched across the
desk, struggling with his flaccid belly, reached his hand out, and picked up
the receiver.

“Hello.”

“Robert?”

“What do you want?” Robert groaned when he identified the voice.

“The mission you instructed me to perform has been carried out.”

“What have you done? How could such a supposedly simple action
end up as such a disaster?”

“You asked for results — you got them.” Anger brought out the
traces of an Asian accent in the voice of his interlocutor. “We told you the
man’s resistance would be removed; that’s exactly what happened. What’s the
problem?”

“We wanted you to pressure him, convince him with some talking,
perhaps threaten him a bit, but killing him…?”

“It’s a pity you never told me that. I have a recording of our
conversation. Would you like me to play it for you? Perhaps then you’ll be able
to explain when exactly you limited the scope of my action.” There was silence
on the other end of the line, finally broken when the Chinese man continued
with a cold voice, “And I expect, as we’ve agreed, to have two hundred thousand
dollars deposited in my account by Monday morning.”

“You’ll get the money,” Robert hurried to say, “
but
what the hell did you tell him that made him take his
own life?”

“Are you sure you want to know? Besides, who said he committed
suicide? By the way, next week, you’ll get an additional call from me with new
instructions.”

“W…w…what?
What sort of instructions?”
Robert mumbled, staring at the phone after he realized the call had been
disconnected, an acidic taste crawling up his throat. He called back, but to
his surprise, his call was answered by a cellular company automated message:
“We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no
longer in service.” He tried a few more times but to no avail. All his attempts
were met by the same irritating message.

I’m in over my head in a vicious mess.
The shocking
realization overwhelmed him as he loosened his tie and attempted in vain to
undo the top button of his shirt with trembling hands.

San Francisco International Airport, October 21, 2013, 6:30 AM

The sun sent its first rays, trying to warm the morning air, in
vain. Liah and Ronnie stood wrapped around each other in front of the United
Airlines terminal.

“I hope I’m able to catch the night flight back. I’ll be back
home same time tomorrow at the latest,” he whispered in Liah’s ear, while
trying to release himself from her hold on his body. His action only served to
achieve the opposite result. Liah tightened her grip, refusing to let go.
Concern for Ronnie paralyzed her.

“Don’t worry. I promise not to do anything stupid. All I plan on
doing today is to meet with McGrady from Accord Ventures to try and keep the
prospect of their investing in TDO alive. If I have time, I’ll try to meet with
the rest of the funds. No macho stuff, I promise.”

“But Ronnie …” Liah began, when a police officer the size of a
small hut and armed like Robocop emerged to their right and interrupted.

“Sir, please move your vehicle. This is a no-parking zone,” he
barked at them without trying to conceal his dislike of the hundreds of tearful
farewells he had to witness on a daily basis.

“Yes, sir,” answered Ronnie, gently disentangling himself from
Liah. He lovingly caressed her cheek and blew her a final farewell kiss. His
eyes continued to follow her as she moved through the gigantic revolving door
and was swallowed into the terminal.

It was eight thirty AM when he drove his car onto the famous
Sand Hill Road, the holiest of holies of private equity and venture funds in
the United States, the dwelling place of more than a trillion dollars. Fifteen
minutes later, the efficient hostess of the Madera led him to a table for two
at the rear of the restaurant, placed the menu on his table, smiled, and left,
hurrying to admit the next of the customers crowding the entrance.

“Coffee?”
A waitress emerged from
nowhere.

“Gladly.
And I would like to order a
Louisiana lump crab meat frittata, whole wheat toast, and orange juice.”

“Thank you, sir. Your order will be coming out in about seven
minutes.”

Ronnie leaned back and began to run possible scenarios for the
upcoming meeting in his head.
Whatever happens, it’s important to keep
Accord Ventures in the
game.
If they decide to get out
of the investment race, TDO will remain without cash and will be doomed to close.
It’s obvious they understand the delicate situation the company’s in, so
they’ll try to pressure us to lower our valuation
… The phone in his pocket
gave a single vibration, announcing a new incoming message. Ronnie examined the
screen. The message was sent from an unlisted number:
You will soon get a low purchase offer for TDO. Expect
pressure from unexpected sources. Please do not share this message with anyone.
Additional information will be sent later on.

Ronnie read and reread the message several times. Finally, he
regained his composure and forwarded it to Gadi, adding at the end:
Gadi, try and see if you can trace
the sender of this message.

The reply came immediately:
Done.

I’ll never understand how he’s able to reply so fast
,
Ronnie thought,
it seems like he spends his entire life texting and talking
on the phone
.

The phone vibrated again, this time a ring accompanied the
vibrations.

“Ronnie,
it’s
David. When are you
coming back to the office?”

“Probably tomorrow.
I’m meeting with
Accord Ventures today.”

“What for?
We need to sell the company
as quickly as possible, even at a loss. A new investment, especially following
Christian’s death, will take months. Leave everything and come back to the
office. Henry and I would like to have a word with you.”

“Since I’m already here, it seems logical to meet with McGrady
from Accord.”

“You’re wasting valuable time.”

“I’m not so sure about that. It’ll take time to find a buyer,
and Accord is already at the end of the process.”

“Ronnie, the TDO investors think otherwise. I believe we can get
an acquisition offer faster than you think. This is also Henry’s opinion.”

“If you know something I don’t, now’s the time to update me. If
you don’t, I intend to conduct the appointment as scheduled.”

An angry silence settled in. Ronnie patiently waited, until he
heard, “I think you’re making a serious mistake, but do what you see fit.
Goodbye.” The call ended abruptly.

The bitter taste of an approaching failure filled Ronnie’s
mouth. He replayed David’s strange instructions in his mind, the impatience in
the managing partner’s voice, and the text message he’d received. It was all
obscure. Frightening would be more accurate. He felt new variables had entered
the complex equation of his life, variables that might soon turn it upside
down.

Menlo Park, October 21, 2013, 10:30 AM

“I’m still shocked by the terrible news,” McGrady opened the
conversation right after they’d taken their seats in the conference room. “I
can’t understand what could have caused an accomplished person such as
Christian to end his own life. If I’m not mistaken, he was married and had
young children…” Ronnie nodded, but McGrady didn’t wait for a response and
continued sluggishly, “I spoke with him on Thursday, sometime in the late
afternoon, just as he’d boarded his plane. I apologized for not calling earlier
and gave him our decision regarding the TDO investment. Even though he didn’t
like what I had to say, he accepted it in a professional manner.”

Ronnie was suddenly overwhelmed by the same irritation that had
become an inseparable part of him in the past few days.
Every time I speak
with someone about Christian, I get some additional piece of information I
didn’t even know existed
, he thought, straining to maintain his
self-control. “I’m sorry, Mr. McGrady, but —”

“Roger. Please call me Roger,” McGrady cut him off.

“OK, Roger. Allow me to be frank with you. I don’t know anything
about the conversation you’re referring to. It would be helpful if you could
fill me in on the details.”

“Yes, of course, Ronnie,” answered Roger, slipping Ronnie’s name
into the sentence in an attempt to give his words a more personal touch. “On
Thursday, we called a meeting of the fund’s investment committee to discuss the
possible investment in TDO. It’s no secret we’ve put a lot of work into
evaluating the company and estimating its potential. My conclusion, as someone
who spearheaded the deal, and the conclusion of the entire staff
was
unequivocal: TDO has a bright future ahead of it and
investing in the company can potentially yield our fund substantial profits.
That’s why I entered the discussion with a strong recommendation to invest in
the company. I even intended to propose that we provide the entire amount
required for this current investment round ourselves. Christian knew in advance
this would be our recommendation. I was so convinced the investment committee
meeting would only be a matter of following procedure and that the investment
would be approved quickly, that ten days ago I flew out to Boston to
participate in a TDO internal strategic discussion. My goal was to speed up the
pace of my integration on the company’s board. Christian was so full of life
and energetic during that strategy session. I find it hard to believe he killed
himself just a few days later.”

“And what happened during the investment committee meeting?”

“At first it appeared to proceed as expected. I presented my
partners with all the parameters that I thought defined the investment as a
successful one, and when I finished, I could recognize the agreement on their
faces. However, in the discussion that followed the presentation, two
problematic points were brought up. One was the inability of the company to
warrant that no inherent problems were concealed in the production process, and
the second was a recommendation to wait until the two independent operations,
scheduled for the coming week, were performed. The partners thought it would be
best not to rush into an investment before these two potential risks were
addressed and resolved to our satisfaction. When everyone had finished
speaking, I realized I wouldn’t be able to approve the investment at that
particular meeting, and the discussion would resume only once we had positive
data concerning the two sticking points that had emerged. As I mentioned, I
updated Christian with the details of the investment committee decision only
when he was already on the plane, on his way to meet me. Until that point, he
must have believed his meeting with me would end up with us providing him with
a term sheet.” Roger went quiet, an expression of genuine sorrow appearing on
his face.

“How did Christian take it?” asked Ronnie, trying to gain time
to enable him to digest the news.

Roger thought for a moment, and when he finally answered, some
wonder was woven into his voice. “Of course he was disappointed, but he
immediately pulled it together and said he was already heading to the West
Coast anyway. He wanted me to take some time to have a face-to-face meeting
with him. He said he had some additional information that might change the
partners’ opinion. Of course I agreed to meet with him. I thought after four
months of working together I owed him at least that, but I was also intrigued
to hear what he had to say. I have to admit when we spoke, he sounded convinced
the information he had was substantial enough to change the fund’s decision.”

“Did you try to get that information from him?”

“Of course” — Roger smiled — “but Christian, even though he
sounded very relaxed, insisted on delivering it face-to-face and not over the
phone. We set up a meeting for Friday morning. I could hear the flight
attendant in the background, asking him to turn off the phone because they were
about to take off.”

Ronnie sat silently, digesting the information.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you before, but would you like some
coffee?” Roger suddenly woke up. “I feel like I need a strong espresso to
recover.”

“Gladly.”
Ronnie rose, and together
they stepped out of the conference room and headed toward the kitchen. Five
people were crowded around the espresso machine, and judging by their ages,
Ronnie guessed two of them were partners and three were junior employees.

“This is Ronnie Saar, the new TDO chairman,” said Roger. He then
introduced two of the junior guys, mentioning they were members of the TDO due
diligence team. One after the other, they approached him and expressed their
sorrow over Christian’s death. Ronnie couldn’t help but be impressed by the
genuine sorrow that prevailed in the place, a feeling that regretfully wasn’t
shared by his associates back at Vision Partners. Before they left the kitchen,
Ronnie turned to them and said, “I really appreciate your genuine condolences,
thank you,” and left the room feeling their stares on his back.

He followed Roger back to the conference room. “I understand
your position,” Ronnie said the moment they sat down, “but in order for me to
understand precisely where we stand, please allow me to ask you a few focused
questions.”

“By all means.”
Roger spread his hands
invitingly.

“Assuming the two surgeries are satisfactory and we demonstrate
our ability to manufacture a couple of new and successful lots of the medicine,
would you still be interested in investing?”

“In principle, yes.
Of course, the
decision will now heavily depend on the experience and capabilities of the new
CEO.”

“And if we decide together the
identity
of the new CEO, will that lower the level of uncertainty you’re currently
feeling?” Ronnie persisted.  

“I believe so, but as you probably know, I’ll need the approval
of the investment committee in any event.”

“If, under the conditions I just suggested, you promise to
recommend the investment, then I’m happy. I can’t expect any more than that at
this stage.”

“I promise.”

“Excellent. I’ll pass along any name that comes up as a good CEO
candidate for your initial approval. In the meantime, we’ll keep in touch. Are
we agreed on that?”

“Agreed,” Roger confirmed.

“I really appreciate the level of openness with which you’ve conducted
this conversation.”

They shook hands, and Roger accompanied Ronnie to the exit,
where he patted him on the shoulder and said, “I don’t envy you the task ahead
of you. Good luck.”

“Challenges are the spice that gives life its flavor.” Ronnie
smiled and for the first time understood the meaning of the reputed Chinese
curse, “May you live in interesting times.” Not even the purple blossoms woven
in the trees surrounding the parking lot could cheer him up and shake the
disturbing feeling he would soon get into the Guinness Book of Records as the
chairman having the shortest tenure before his company went bust.

He got into his Prius and drove to the airport. It was time he
shook up David and Henry and heard everything they knew and had not shared with
him yet.