Chapter 22: End and Beginning

Frank arrived home at eight the next evening. The conference with the new investors was successful, even though they had to go through it without Alvin. He'd received Blake's phone call as they were getting ready to go to dinner. Brenda had called him and explained about Gloria. Jim Sweeney filled in for Alvin at the meeting the next day and the investors were gracious and understood.

Alvin used the corporate jet to get back to Houston. Frank, Jim and Tyler booked seats on a commercial flight. Frank was tired and wanted to relax, but his trip had been a big win, so he was eager to fill Trudy in.

He wandered into the house expecting to see Trudy and Margaret, but neither was downstairs. He stopped by Margaret's room.

"Why the long face?" he asked her. "Trouble with Chemistry?"

"No," the girl was the gruff reply.

"Well, what, then?" he asked.

"I didn't do anything," she barked. "It was her. She's been like this for two days."

"Like what?" Frank asked.

"She's just being a total grouch."

"It can't be all that bad," Frank said. "Your mother is never a grouch for long. Are you sure she isn't upset with you for something."

"No," Margaret cried out. "Everyone always blames me for everything." She clamped her jaw shut and crossed her arms.

"Why don't you study your chemistry and let me worry about it," Frank told her. He closed her door and walked down the hallway to his and Trudy's room. She was lying in bed. The covers were pulled up over her face.

"Hi, Trudy. I'm home."

She didn't answer. It wasn't like her. "You feel alright?" he asked.

"I'm okay," she said, "just a little under the weather. That's all."

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, I just need to sleep. I saved some dinner for you. It's in the refrigerator."

"Margaret thinks you're being a grouch."

"I suppose I am," she said. "I'll make it up to her. Tell Margaret I'm sorry—I just don't feel very well. I'll be better tomorrow."

"I'm sure she'll be okay," Frank answered. "Did you hear about Gloria?"

"No—no I didn't," Trudy answered in a voice that should have told Frank that knew something of it. But, he wasn't listening as carefully as he should have. She flipped off the covers and sat straight up on the bed. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure; some kind of attack—maybe a nervous breakdown. Alvin had to come home early this morning. He got a call from Blake. I guess he was relaying something from Brenda. Alvin said she was going to the doctor today."

"So that's all that Brenda told him?"

"Blake told him; I assume it came from Brenda. Don't Gloria and Brenda always hang around together?"

"I guess so," Trudy said. "Then, that's all you know?"

"That's it. Alvin took the corporate jet back to Houston this morning. Jim, Tyler and I had to book a commercial flight. That's why I'm late."

He looked at Trudy. She seemed more animated than when he first walked in. "This news about Gloria has you perked up," he joked to her. "I know you don't like her that much..."

"It's not that!" Trudy snapped. "I just didn't know about it, that's all."

"I told you I thought Gloria was acting a little goofy when I went over there the other night. It's not my business, but I think she might toss down more than her share of the sauce."

"I wouldn't know about that."

"Well, you look like you're feeling a little bit better. Do you want to come downstairs for a while?"

"Maybe for a while. I think I'll take some aspirin and see if it helps."

Good!" Frank exclaimed. "I'll tell you about the meeting in Chicago."

Trudy got out of bed and put on her robe. "Did it go well?" she asked.

They walked down the hall past Margaret's closed door. "Maybe I should go in and talk to her for a minute," Trudy said.

"That's okay," Frank countered. Why don't you go down and get comfortable by the TV. I'll square it with Margaret for you and bring you some aspirin."

"Thanks," Trudy called over her shoulder. "I'll heat up your dinner while you're doing that."

Frank thought Trudy was still acting subdued the next morning, but she looked somewhat better. Frank wasn't a kissy kind of guy, but on this day he did give her a kiss on the forehead as he left for the office. She seemed to like that.

"Probably NWS—Neglected Wife Syndrome—at the root cause," he said out loud to himself as he backed the car down the driveway. He started saying it as a little joke, but as the words came forth he realized that it was true, but not very funny. "It's my fault. With everything at work, I've kind of forgotten about her. She's been under a lot of pressure, too." Frank confirmed his determination for a special vacation as soon as he could schedule it.

When he arrived at the office he found that Floyd was back from vacation. He escorted him to his office and brought him his styrofoam cup of coffee, just like always.

"Did you get a chance to look at those reports that I printed from the copying machine, Mr. Bennett?"

"I'm afraid so, Floyd. I almost wish I hadn't asked you to print them out, but it looks like we know who's been stealing company information."

"I'll tell you, Mr. Bennett, I really didn't want to come back. I would have never believed it was Miss Jeannette, but it's right there in the reports."

"I can't ignore it," Frank said. "There's the card number, right there. I don't believe it. Jeannette's been with me for a long time."

"Well, you know something else? That Mr. Fishman—you told me to keep an eye on that office he was using. A couple of times he didn't bother to lock his door when he went home for the evening. It was the same night that the reports show the keycard was used. I locked it for him, of course. At first, I thought he forgot. But now I think that he was helping Miss Jeannette."

"Or maybe she was helping him."

"I hate to accuse," Floyd said. "It's my duty and all."

"Don't worry, Floyd," Frank said. "We have other ways of confirming it. We'll have to do something; we can't ignore it."

Floyd shook his head. "Too bad; such nice people." he said. "I wonder where they went wrong."

"We'll ask 'em at the proper time," Frank assured him. "For now, keep this between us."

"No problem, Mr. Bennett. By the way, I have some other news to tell you."

"Oh?"

"I've decided to retire," Floyd said. "They have that 'Eighty-Five Option', you know, in the Retirement Plan. It's the sum of your age and years of service. I'm sixty-two and I'll have twenty-five years on the first of the month. That puts me over. If I don't take it, I would almost be working for free."

"Geez, I'll miss you, Floyd. What're you gonna do?"

"My son lives in Atlanta. The Missus and I were thinking of moving there. We have no one left here in Houston. It gets kind of lonely."

"Well, I wish you the best, Floyd. Do you have a date, yet?"

"No, gotta work that out with Personnel," Floyd said. "It'll be soon, though."

"What can I say?" Frank said. "Good luck to you."

Floyd turned to leave. "Have a good day, Mr. Bennett," he called over his shoulder.

"Oh—Floyd, there's just one thing," Frank remembered. "You know that FBI agent— Agent Henderson? He's going to be in the office today. As soon as he arrives, would you bring him to my office?"

After Floyd left the office Frank took out his notes on the meeting of the prior day in Chicago. He tried to summarize them, but he couldn't keep his mind on what he was doing. Floyd's accusation of Aaron and Jeannette didn't surprise him. It only served to confirm what he already had put together and shared with Henderson—and what Henderson had put together on his own. That didn't make it go down any easier. Today was going to be a busy day.

He walked down the hall to Alvin's empty office and left a note on Doris' desk. He wanted to speak to Alvin, if he came to the office at all. The memory of Gloria's recent pass at him came to mind. He wondered if her breakdown had anything to do with it. He grimaced as he thought how Alvin had unwittingly set the whole thing up. Then, he thought of Trudy, and if it might all come out in the open. He wondered if he should tell her before someone else did.

He put his note on the top of the pile and turned to go back to his office. When he arrived he found Tyler Smith and Blake Hart waiting for him next to Jeannette's desk.

"We've got something to tell you," Tyler said, and pointed to Frank's office, "in there."

They walked in and Frank motioned them to the alcove where they sat down. "No coffee, yet," he said.

"That's okay," Blake said. "we're not in the coffee mood."

"It's something I picked up—quite by accident—while I was in New York" Tyler began to explain. "I wasn't sure whether to bring it up in Chicago. Then Alvin got his call and everything. I didn't want it to overshadow the meeting with the investors. I decided to wait until I could check things out better and the three of us could get together."

"It's got to have something to do with Alvin, considering what you just said, and what's been going on."

"Yes and no," Tyler said. "It's just this. I was reviewing one of our contracts in an attorney's office. I overheard a staffer say something about Bank of Frankfurt."

"That's Herr Mueller's Bank," Frank said. "I take it he's doing some business over here."

"No big deal about that," Tyler said. "I'd be surprised if his bank didn't have some interests in the States. It's what I heard next that was alarming."

"Wait 'til you hear this," Blake said.

"Someone asked who Mueller's counsel was. I couldn't believe the answer—none other than our own trusted Al Crossman. I did a cross-search this morning on the internet and sure enough, Crossman is listed as Frankfurt Bank's General Counsel for all U.S. business."

"So, you're saying that Al's representing Mueller and Western at the same time—even while Mueller's attempting a takeover? Does Alvin know about this?"

"God help him if he does," Blake declared.

"I don't think so, Tyler said. "The problem is that Crossman has Alvin's ear. You should be worried, Frank. You know that Mueller's not exactly in your corner."

"This explains a lot of things," Frank said as he shook his head.

"Crossman's been agitating with Alvin to wave a white flag at the SEC and that Persky dame," Tyler reminded them. "I couldn't understand why he was saying it, but now ... if we do that, it's your ass in a sling, Frank. Crossman was trying to set you up, and now we know why. He's trying to manipulate things according to Mueller's interests."

"We should take this to Alvin as soon as he gets in—if he gets in, that is. I would imagine it depends on how his wife is doing."

"I doubt you'll see him today," Blake said. "Brenda told me that Gloria flipped out pretty hard. She didn't go into a lot of details. She said that another one of her parties flopped and that sent her over the edge."

"I asked Trudy about it. She didn't know a thing. I can't imagine a spoiled party sending a person over the edge."

"Well, every mountain has that one final stone on top of the pile," Tyler said.

"Anyway, Brenda is helping Alvin get Gloria to the doctor's office. She said the doc gave her something to knock her out overnight. We'll just have to see."

"I hate to go over Alvin's head," Frank said. "I don't think this can wait. We should call Jim Sweeney and fill him in. Alvin will have to understand."

"I'll do the honors," Tyler said.

"Thanks," Frank replied. "I have some other pressing business this morning, as you know."

"We've got to stick together on this," Blake said.

"Absolutely," Frank agreed. "Let's make sure we're working with the facts. I want to find out just how much Alvin knows."

A knock at the door interrupted them. Floyd opened it. "You said to bring Agent Henderson right in," he said. Henderson came into the office. "Miss Jeannette's just arrivin'. Do you want me to call her in?"

"No, that's okay," Frank said. We don't need her right this second. We need you, though."

"Me?" Floyd said. "I'll help you if you need it, but I don't think you will. Miss Jeannette won't put up much of a fight. Do you have another agent with you to take custody of Mr. Fishman? I could help with that."

"Agent Henderson is here to arrest you, Floyd."

"Me? You can't be serious." He forced out a laugh.

"Agents in Atlanta are serving subpoenas at this moment on your son's records at the stock broker's office where he works," Henderson told him.

"What?" Floyd asked. "What about the reports that were copied on Miss Jeannette's keycard?"

"Jeannette got herself a new keycard. I told her to leave the old one on her desk where you'd find it—if you were snooping around and wanted to use one."

"You can't prove it was me."

"Want to see yourself on tape?" Frank asked. I had cameras installed in the Controller's office and in the copier room while you were on vacation. You're on tape going through Aaron's files. By the way, the forecast worksheets you pilfered were bogus. I had Aaron make a set of phonies and leave them on top of the desk. Jeannette has the real ones in her secure filing cabinet."

"You thought of everything, didn't you?"

"Not just me, Floyd. Agent Henderson has the brokerage records for the Calls and the Puts going through your son's brokerage and the money going into your account. The only question is why you did it."

Floyd hung his head. "It was for the money," he said. "We never thought it would cause so much trouble. It was so much easy money. I just wanted something to take with me before I retire."

"You were willing to let Jeannette and Aaron take the fall for you," Frank said.

"People would just walk by my post everyday and never say a word," Floyd answered. "I didn't even exist. They were all so important and I was nothing."

"Did you think that buttering me up with a cup of coffee in the morning would give you a license to steal?" Frank asked.

"I thought so," Floyd said. "High-up people always want to be liked. That's 'cause no one really likes 'em. So, yeah; I thought it would do it."

"I have to place you under arrest now," Henderson said. He read Floyd his rights and then took out his handcuffs.

"Do you need those?" Frank asked.

"Regulations," Henderson answered.

"He's sixty-two years old. I think you can outrun him," Frank argued. Henderson shrugged. "At least do it in the parking lot."

"Alright, in the parking lot it is," he said. He grasped Floyd by the arm and they made their way to the elevator.

"What do you think he'll get?" Tyler asked.

"I dunno. Restitution, probation; you're the lawyer, you tell me."

Tyler didn't have an answer and they walked together out of the office. Tyler and Blake headed back to their own lairs. Frank turned to Jeannette.

"Well, Floyd's gone. It's a real shame, but the facts were there on the table. It had to be done."

"Yes," Jeannette agreed.

"Your idea about the copier keycard was a good one. I'm sure you don't take any joy in it."

"No, not particularly," she answered.

"Well, I'm sorry," Frank said and started to turn to head back inside his office.

"Sorry? Why are you apologizing to me?" Jeannette demanded.

"I just thought..." Frank started to say.

"I've known Floyd a long time and I feel bad because he got himself in trouble, but he was wrong. Are you thinking that I feel worse because it turned out to be Floyd and he's the same race as me?" Jeannette asked. "I hope you weren't thinking that."

Frank grimaced and found himself guilty as charged. "I have to tell you, Jeannette. I was thinking that. I was wrong to think that way, but it's true that I was."

"Because I'm my own person," Jeannette proclaimed. "I don't belong to anybody—not any person or group or anything. I think and speak for myself and whatever I do or don't do is on my own account."

"I know, Jeannette. I was wrong to be thinking that."