Informant (31 page)

Mimoto stared at him, astonished. “It’s very illegal,’’ he said.

Whitacre shook his head. “To audit, to have an auditor? Nah. You’re going to have an auditor going through your financial figures anyway.’’

“You don’t think this is illegal thing, no?’’

“No,’’ Wilson said. “Absolutely not.’’

“This is completely illegal,’’ Mimoto said.

“No,’’ Wilson repeated. “No, it’s not.’’

This made no sense to the Japanese.
Of course
what they were doing was illegal. That was the reason for the clandestine meetings. They didn’t understand that Wilson was making a distinction between the legal act of submitting numbers to an association and the illegal act of using the data to fix prices. For the next few minutes, Wilson explained why associations were allowed to have sales numbers.

Yamamoto argued. What about after the numbers were submitted to the association?

“Submitting the numbers is legal,’’ Whitacre said. “What we do with it is illegal.’’

Yamamoto pointed toward some data. “This number is illegal,’’ he said.

Wilson raised his hand. “I won’t even discuss that, Massy.’’

The whole group laughed.

Yamamoto remained insistent. “This is illegal,’’ he said, pointing to one number after another. “This is okay. This is illegal.’’

Sitting back, Wilson joined in the laughter.

The SOG agents in the command room stood behind Herndon, watching in disbelief.

“Oh, man, did you hear that?’’ one of the agents asked. “This sounds like really good stuff.’’

Herndon almost shrugged. “Yeah, it’s pretty good,’’ he said. “But this is like a lot of meetings we’ve heard.’’

The SOG agents watched silently for a second.

“This is a great case,’’ one said softly.

The Korean executives from Miwon eyed the rest of the group with suspicion. What auditors would check the sales figures? The group wanted each company to just turn over the job to their usual accountants. How could such an audit be trusted? Maybe, the Korean executives implied, the companies could pressure the accountants to lie. Perhaps a new accounting firm should be hired just for this project.

Sitting in a corner, Jacques Chaudret from Eurolysine shook his head. The idea was lunacy. Bringing in new accountants would signal to everyone in their company that something strange was going on.

“You’re in Korea, but in the U.S. and in Europe, the antitrust law is very strong,’’ Chaudret said to the Miwon executives. “I have a hard time to explain to the controller that we have to be audited by a different company than the normal auditing company. For what reason?’’

Wilson nodded. “Yeah.’’

“The guys would be very, very suspicious,’’ Chaudret said.

The discussion went around the room. Wilson listened, sucking on another cigarette. It amazed him how many risks these guys were willing to take.

“How the hell do you give it some cover?’’ Wilson interrupted. “We can’t. We don’t have any cover.’’

The debate raged on as Wilson listened, occasionally sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup.

“Either we trust each other or we don’t trust each other,’’ Wilson said. “I have no problem with audits; we do it lots of places. But in the end it comes down to: Do you trust or don’t you trust?’’

The group finally agreed that they would rely on certifications provided by each company’s usual auditor. The check would be looser than the system that the Miwon executives wanted, but it would involve far less risk.

The only major issue left to resolve was what to do with Cheil, the one company not at the morning meeting. J. M. Suh, one of the company’s executives, would be allowed in later that day. What position should they take with him?

The amount in dispute was between two thousand and six thousand tons. Wilson said that Cheil should simply be given the percentage of the market it was demanding. Otherwise, the company could upend the conspiracy by offering lysine at a lower price.

“You have a rogue elephant out there that could destroy the market,’’ he said. “Two thousand tons can take the market from a dollar-twenty to sixty-five cents.’’

Mimoto nodded. “That’s right.’’

“I think we’ve got to remember that,’’ Wilson said. “We have an old saying in the United States and at ADM. ‘It’s better to have ’em inside the tent pissin’ out, than outside pissin’ in.’ ”

Mimoto looked confused. “Outside piss?’’

Everyone laughed.

“It’s better that they be part of the group,’’ Wilson explained. “It’s better.’’

Whitacre leaned in. “It’s better that they be one of our friends. Competitors are our friends, remember? Customer’s the enemy.’’

The group agreed. They would offer Cheil more volume and try to bring them into the conspiracy. Mimoto pulled the sheet of paper filled with production numbers off the easel.

“Next subject,’’ Mimoto said as he folded the paper. “How to use the Amino Acid Association.’’

Yamamoto laughed.

“We’re usin’ it,’’ Whitacre said. “We’re usin’ it.’’

Mimoto turned the floor over to Jacques Chaudret, who handed out copies of an agenda for an association meeting. The agenda was a fake; it was simply paperwork to explain why the lysine competitors had gathered in the same hotel room.

“Everything we are doing today is legal,’’ Chaudret said to laughter. “But just in case . . ’’

“Did your lawyers tell you that?’’ Whitacre laughed. “Our lawyers didn’t.’’

Whitacre scanned the paper. “This is an official agenda?’’

“That’s right,’’ Chaudret said as he sat down. “That’s an easy cover-up, at least for us.’’

“I agree,’’ Wilson said.

For twenty minutes, the men reviewed each item on the bogus agenda, explaining everything that was supposed to have happened at the fictional meeting of the lysine association.

The morning session broke just after eleven. Whitacre stood. He thought it had been fabulous. He was dying to talk to Herndon about it.

“I wouldn’t mind making a phone call,’’ he said.

Whitacre slipped into his bedroom and picked up the telephone. The F-Bird was still recording.

Herndon was staring at the action on the monitor when the phone rang.

“Hey, Bob,’’ Whitacre said. “It’s Mark.’’

What the hell?
Herndon glanced at the monitor. Whitacre wasn’t on the phone in the room.
Whitacre wasn’t in the room at all.
Quickly, Herndon shut off the video recorder. It was 11:13.

“Mark, where are you?’’

“I’m in my room now, in my room.’’

Herndon groaned inwardly. The camera had been lined up so that he could see the front door. He felt sure he would know when Whitacre left. He’d never thought Whitacre would walk out the side into the bedroom. This was just going to create problems down the line.

Nothing simple is simple.

“Mark,’’ Herndon said, trying to contain his frustration, “the tape was still running when you walked out of there.’’

“Can you turn everything off?’’

“I already did. But, Mark, I didn’t hear you say that you were leaving.’’

“I did say I was going to my room.’’

“Well, Mark, next time announce it.’’

“I did say it to those guys,’’ Whitacre said defensively. “Said I’m gonna make some phone calls and see everybody at eleven-thirty.’’

In truth, Whitacre’s statement had been far more ambiguous. Herndon tried speaking in a monotone, to hide his anger.

“Okay, Mark.’’

“That didn’t affect anything, did it?’’

“I don’t think so. Everything’s fine. Just next time when you leave, announce it real loud.’’

“Yeah, well I told ’em we were going to make phone calls and were meeting up at eleven-thirty.’’

“It’s okay, Mark. I just missed it.’’

Whitacre paused. “Goin’ pretty well, isn’t it? You guys getting what you need?’’

Herndon knew this was the reason for the phone call. Whitacre was excited about the progress at the meeting. He couldn’t wait to chew over every detail.

“Yeah, we’re getting everything. You’re doing a good job, Mark.’’

“The chairs being moved around didn’t affect anything?’’

“No, that was fine.’’

“First he put his right in front of it, did you see that?’’ Whitacre asked. “And I moved him over. ’Cause he first had his back right to it, J. S. Kim.”

Whitacre barely took a breath. “
Agreement
is used a lot, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Mark.’’

“Yeah, a lot. Lot. Yeah.’’

Whitacre talked about the plans for lunch and told Herndon not to worry about what he was missing in the room. Everyone, he said, was just socializing.

“Okay, Mark,’’ Herndon said. “Now remember, later today if you leave, just announce it.’’

“I did,’’ Whitacre said. “I told ’em I was going to use the phone and see ’em in fifteen minutes in the restaurant. I made it very clear to those guys. And I said it to three or four of them.’’

“I understand, Mark. I’m just reminding you.’’

“Okay.’’

Pause.

“You guys getting everything you need?’’ Whitacre asked again.

“Yeah, Mark, everything’s fine.’’

“And you understand why I called you that time, right? For the orange juice. I didn’t need orange juice. I really just wanted to say, ‘Is everything okay setup-wise?’ ”

The two men discussed the dinner plans for that evening; Whitacre agreed that he would eat with the other lysine executives.

Pause.

“You’re getting everything you need?’’

A few minutes later, Whitacre caught up to Wilson downstairs in the hotel. The tape recorder strapped to his back was still running.

“I think it’s going pretty well, don’t you?’’ Whitacre said.

“Yeah,’’ Wilson agreed.

All of Wilson’s pleadings for trust had done the trick. The others were letting down their guard. Wilson had really built something, Whitacre said.

“Helped ’em get all the anger out,’’ said Wilson.

Whitacre laughed.

Wilson shrugged. “Everybody’s going to want to cheat anyway. Knowing Mick, we’ll want to cheat.’’

Shortly after lunch, J. M. Suh of Cheil wandered into the meeting room with Whitacre.

“Do you play golf tomorrow?’’ Suh asked.

“We’re gonna be playin’ tomorrow,’’ Whitacre said. “I think we’re gonna play this afternoon also.’’

Several of the other executives strolled in.

“I came here just to play golf,’’ Suh laughed.

Suh sank into the couch as the others found their chairs. The room was even more cramped than during the morning session. Not everyone had a seat.

Wilson looked around the room. “Surprised this wasn’t bigger than it is.’’

“It’s a whole lot smaller than expected,’’ Whitacre said.

He stood, announcing that he was headed to the other room to fetch a chair. He said it as loudly as seemed natural.

Herndon turned off the recorder for a few seconds. At least his instruction had gotten through.

Suh scanned the room, resting his head on his arm. He was angry that his company had not been able to attend the morning meeting.

“I want to hear background why we were excluded,’’ Suh said.

Mimoto seethed. “I told you already over the phone many times, no?’’ he snapped. “I explain many times, so I think it’s useless to repeat this.’’

Suh stared back at him, saying nothing. If Mimoto was trying to intimidate him, the effort wasn’t working. Even though Cheil was the smallest lysine company, Suh wasn’t going to let himself be bullied.

“Anyway, forget about the past,’’ Mimoto said. “We are ready to accept you also, of course, depending on the quantity.’’

The others asked what 1994 allocation would satisfy Cheil. Suh insisted on eighteen thousand tons.

“That is our position,’’ Suh said.

Mimoto sounded exasperated. “What is the reason?’’ he asked.

In the next room, Herndon cracked a smile. Even though Suh was there to negotiate Cheil’s role in a crime, Herndon couldn’t help but admire him a bit. Suh was standing up to the biggest lysine players in the world; he seemed to know that his little company still had the power to wreck everyone else’s scheme. Suh was playing on those fears to the hilt.

The guy, Herndon thought, was pretty ballsy.

For several minutes, Wilson explained his proposal. Cheil would be allocated the percentage of the market it was requesting. If the numbers were truthful, the company would be able to sell eighteen thousand tons—maybe more. If the market dropped in size, everyone would cut back. All the companies would stick with their percentages and adjust sales depending on the total market.

Suh listened impassively as the others explained the proposal for sharing production numbers. Suh asked about using auditors to check the figures.

“Our preference is to trust each other,’’ Wilson said. “If we find somebody lyin’—death or something like that. Something very bad would happen. We would hire some Mafia figure or something, and rub you out.’’

The group laughed.

“If we can’t trust each other in the end, it ain’t gonna work,’’ Wilson continued. “That’s how I feel.’’

Whitacre nodded. “If we can’t trust each other, it’s not worth meetin’.’’

Wilson lit a cigarette. They had reached an end point. It was make or break.

Mimoto looked at Suh. “You are okay for that?’’

Suh nodded. “Yeah, I’m all right.’’

“Okay, then, very good,’’ Mimoto said.

He smiled and looked around the room.

“Fantastic,’’ Mimoto said with a laugh. “So five companies agree on quantity for the first time.’’

•   •   •

Five companies agree.

“That’s it!’’ Herndon said. “That’s the one.’’

After more than a year, they finally had a conspirator pronouncing an agreement on tape. Robin Mann was going to love this one. So would a jury.

Herndon glanced around. Weatherall was standing behind him. Their eyes locked.

Weatherall smiled and nodded. He’d heard it.

From that moment, a tone of friendliness permeated the meeting. The group spent hours discussing regional prices and how to handle customers who falsely claimed that they had been offered a better price. If everyone held firm, the customers would have to pay the fixed price to somebody.