Chapter 3

The prop-jet airliner climbed over the Massif Central, and Helen relaxed in her seat. Working while flying seldom appealed to her. Her flights were generally short hops in small aircraft: it simply made little sense to try and organize a brief work session in a cramped seat. Instead she would read a book or listen to music she had brought with her.

Eventually her plane pulled up outside one of Geneva's little satellite terminals, and she went down along the long underground tunnels' sliding walks to the baggage claim and customs. As she rode along the slideway, she called Johannes on her mobile.

"Hi, I'm here. What's your schedule?"

"Um... How about dinner?" He sounded somehow hesitant.

"Fine. But not tonight. I've got to meet with my partner. Tomorrow?"

Her blazer, jewel neck blouse and carefully fitted slacks had survived the trip and would suffice for the meeting. In the airport toilet, she looked herself over and made a decision not to change clothes. 'It's an important meeting, but I think I can carry it off.' She tugged here, pulled there, patted that and left the room.

She took a cab to her client's office, an attractive and reserved building on a side street off the lakefront. A typically discreet sign announced Compagnie Schellen, S.A.

Someone must have seen her get out of the cab because a young woman met her in the spacious, neo-classic foyer of the building and escorted her to her client's office.

A distinguished, graying man with fine features and sharp eyes came to meet her, hand outstretched, speaking the expected French. "Mme Wallace. I am pleased to see you again." They shook hands and he waved her to a chair beside a coffee table before taking his seat on the other side. Bottles of water and juice and a coffee service were on the table.

"May I offer you coffee?" he asked.

Knowing the routine, Helen nodded her assent. Eventually, the courtesies were complete and they turned to business.

"Mme Wallace, our committee was impressed with your designs for the Freiburg site, and we felt confident in awarding the contract to you. Since that time, however, I've asked my people to go over your proposal and estimate the costs. I'm rather concerned that your ideas will require more capital than we had intended."

'Or have available, ' Helen thought. The remark was no surprise. She steeled herself into her most regal persona.

"M Schellen, you do not surprise me. My proposal, as you know, specifically met the requirements of your Request For Proposal, as it had to in order to be considered. And, as you also know, I made it clear that I felt the design as required would be very costly to realize. I'm proud and pleased that you selected my design. I'm prepared to make reasonable adjustments to meet your financial needs."

"Thank you, Mme Wallace. That's helpful. I may have a possible solution as well. One of my associates is a general contractor. We have discussed the project and he feels we can manage to build the project within my budget."

Helen had expected this as well. Schellen had a brother-in-law whose construction firm was in financial and legal difficulties. To her certain knowledge, that firm was probably guilty of shoddy construction and even of illegal practices. Partly as a result of that knowledge and because she had little to lose financially even if Schellen placed the award elsewhere, Helen had long ago decided to play it tough on these negotiations. She turned in her chair, allowing her blazer to slip to the side from her breast. "M Schellen, as you also know, my proposal stipulates that I will select, supervise and contract with all sub-contractors. This is a turnkey project, sir."

"Yes, well, I feel quite certain that you will see my point of view, Mme Wallace." Schellen had not missed her change of posture. "I am not at all certain we can afford to carry out the project as you have proposed it."

Helen decided to go for the end game, rather than spin the matter out.

"M Schellen," she shifted forward, leaning toward him, and said firmly, "the design as specified by you cannot be built at the price you proposed. You know that as well as I. I also know that you have purchased or are in the process of purchasing sites in Kehl and Friedrichshaven that must be intended for additional installations of this same kind." Helen noticed the tightening of Schellen's mouth as she said this, but plowed on.

"I am prepared, tomorrow, to show you how you can build all three locations to the highest quality standards and at far more reasonable cost. I would appreciate your reserving judgment until then." She sat up decisively, her shoulders back, looking him in the eye.

Schellen's regard changed from annoyance to one of interest, though his words seemed at cross-purposes. "Mme Wallace, I am surprised, and not entirely pleased, by your comments about my business dealings. Please give me some idea of what you mean."

Helen and her staff had spent quite a bit of time on research. She had traced transactions by various Schellen subsidiaries and fronts, but she had found what she had known she would find.

"M Schellen, first of all," she raised her thumb, "your position in the sites in Kehl and on the Lake of Constance is a matter of public record, if one knows where to look. While you did not use the same corporate name for them as you used for the Freiburg im Breisgau property where you propose to make this first installation, it was not difficult to determine the relationships."

Helen extended her index finger. "Second, the competition Call For Submissions asked for a gold-plated facility, but also said it will be patronized by the average German population. I think we both know that the admission prices you would have to charge will be more than the general public can afford. Those who could afford it won't come to such a public place. The only way to make it profitable is to build the project so cheaply that it will fall apart in five years, which could leave you..." Helen paused for a moment to look at the floor and let her implication sink in. "... leave you in an unenviable position.

"I can build you an attractive installation of high quality that you can promote at attractive prices on a sound financial basis. Shall I show it to you tomorrow, or shall we close our negotiations now?"

Helen knew she was on sound footing. The competition award stipulated a substantial payment to her if the project did not go forward. Since it was more than enough to cover her development costs, she doubted Schellen would throw money down that rat hole, now he had gone this far.

Schellen sat back in his chair with a smile that was either grim or merely subdued. "Mme Wallace, you are a surprising woman. I knew of your fine reputation for design and project management, but I did not suspect you of this degree of... subtlety." He scrubbed his chin for a moment, then looked at her again.

"Yes, we will consider your presentation tomorrow. Shall we say at ten?"

Helen disguised a sigh of relief. She'd won the first round.

They made their farewells, and Helen stopped on her way out to inquire where the meeting would be held and that presentation facilities were adequate. She left the building and went to her hotel.

Bernard "Rummy" Harms looked like what he was, a former professional rugby player and reformed party animal. He did not look like what else he was, a competent, independent structural engineer, and also Helen's business confidant, partner and right-hand man. In a business suit, he would have seemed out of place, but he showed up for dinner with Helen wearing casual clothes that matched her short skirt and low-cut blouse. He grinned at her as they entered the restaurant.