Chapter 17

1330, June 12, 1995

Ring ... Ring ... Ring.

Bear picked up the private phone. “Yes?”

“Ms White Owl, please. John Mason calling,” said a nice female voice.

He handed me the phone. “Lexi While Owl, here.”

“Hello again, Lexi. This is John Mason. I have Jack Roosevelt, here. He’s our Exxon specialist ... Jack are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here, John. Hello, Ms White Owl. I’m a specialist in Exxon here at the Mason Management Companies.” He had a very deep voice.

“Please call me Lexi. And I’ll call you Jack, is that all right? ... A specialist in Exxon? You’ve had a busy few weeks.”

“Jack is fine. And I’d say it’s been a busy few months, since you started shorting everything in sight in the oil patch. At least until you started buying Exxon when Al Qaeda began its attack on the Exxon tankers.”

“That’s when I changed my mind. I figured it would start to trash the stock price, so shorting it wouldn’t do much good, and I started to buy. Frankly, I never thought it would lead to this ... uh ... dramatic point.”

Mason stepped in, at this point. “You convinced one of my aides to put your name and number on my call list for this morning. There’s some confusion about who did that, I must admit. Do you recall who you spoke to?”

“I asked my assistant to see if he could get me a phone call from ‘the guy who runs Mason.’ I can check with him if it’s important. Sorry, but I didn’t know your name at the time. Just that Mason was the biggest institutional stockholder.”

“It’s not important. I was just curious,” Mason said. He didn’t sound like it was something he’d let go of. I trusted Red’s hacking skills.

[Thank you, Lexi, for that vote of confidence. I inserted it while the list was open on his assistant’s computer. She was answering the phone at the time.]

“I’m going to leave for another call,” said Mason. “Jack speaks for Mason on this subject. He’ll be updating the Portfolio Management Committee about your discussions.”

“Thanks for your time, John.”

Jack Roosevelt’s baritone said, “Lexi, if I can ask: what are your intentions for Exxon?”

“Well, that’s changed. As you may know, I’m the CEO of Spirit of the Hunter, Inc. SotH is the only generator of fusion powered electricity in the world.”

“So that’s true then?”

“Oh yes. Come out to Burnside North and see it in action, some time. Though there’s nothing to see, if you ask me,” I started. “That led me to take a position in Arizona Power and that led me to become more interested in the coal industries. Once I got interested in coal, I got interested in other extraction companies ... I think there’s some improvements in how the oil companies should deal with the public. I’d like to see that corrected.”

“So you’re an environmentalist, then?” Jack asked.

“Isn’t everyone? We all breathe the same air. And what difference does that make, anyway? Let me ask you, Jack, what is Mason’s interest in Exxon?”

“We are long-term investors in a large, profit-making company that pays a good dividend, is stable, and has good prospects for continuing to do so,” he replied.

“Haha. Right out of the prospectus. Good job,” I chided him. “What about the tobacco companies? Does Mason invest in them?”

“I’m not qualified to comment on other companies. Personally, I doubt it. Look at what I said about Exxon. Tobacco companies are large, they bring in good profits, but their long-term stability is questionable, and some would question their future prospects.”

“Let me get at this another way,” I said. “A month ago, Exxon stock was in the $7.50 to $8.00 range. Last week it was trading at $6.50, due mostly to the problem with the tankers. This morning it was $5.50 and heading lower, on the news of Abel Fortin’s demise. I met with him just last week, and he didn’t seem unstable. My ‘suicide radar’ is obviously flawed.”

“If I may ask, what did you discuss with Mr. Fortin?”

“Certainly you may ask. It was a private conversation, and I respectfully will decline to answer.”

“That’s a strange attitude to take. Why not say what you talked about?”

“Come now, Jack. Are you planning to publish the minutes of your discussion with the PMC?” (PMC = Mason’s Portfolio Management Committee.) “On a personal note, are you a lawyer?”

“No. I have an advanced degree in Business Finance from Georgetown. Why do you ask?”

[Lexi, after Georgetown, he worked for seven years as an OGPA lobbyist.]

“It’s just that the last time I was asked such an aggressive question was from a lawyer. He, too, thought that MY business should be revealed to anyone who asked.” I was getting a negative vibe from Mr. Jack Roosevelt.

“In any case, Jack, what would Mason’s position be if the stock price lost another $2.00 per share?”

“Do you think that is a real possibility?”

“Ah. Answering a question with a question, I see. Yes, I think it’s a possibility.”

“That would be a surprise to us. Would you tell me why?” Jack sounded flummoxed.

“Do you recall what happened to the tobacco companies when they finally said they knew all along that smoking caused cancer?”

“But that was a KNOWING falsification. A situation that cannot pertain to Exxon or any of the other oil companies.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” I lied. “Well, in any case, my goal with Exxon is to kick some ass and get some resolution of the tanker navigation issue. And of course, now, to see that Fortin’s replacement is somebody sensible.” Another lie. We said our goodbyes.

“Bear, could you please act as my appointment secretary for one more call, please? Contact John Mason’s assistant and ask him to contact me again. Tell him it’s confidential, and ask him to call ASAP.”

...

[Lexi, Exxon prices have stabilized at about $5.20. The rest of the oil companies have taken a nosedive. I’ve put another notice out on the Al Qaeda network threatening another, unnamed, Exxon tanker. Same general text: “Unless the Son of Satan stops dealing with the Devils in Arabia...” et cetera. So when nothing happens by next week, we should see a nice bounce.]