Page 4 of Billionaire Corruption

But she had said something that got stuck in my mind.

The bit about not exactly speaking the truth.

It reminded me of something one of our exco members had said during the meeting on Monday morning, a few days ago. One of the vice-presidents didn’t show and nobody knew where he was. I asked about him at work and got some vague answers about him taking some personal time. Finally, I called his home and got hold of a housekeeper who said the boss had gone away, she didn’t know how long or where.

But Daniel Calderwood had not taken any leave.

He was overseeing some important company agreements and he wasn’t answering my calls. Eventually, I called our head of security, a rather tough-looking ex-cop type called Don. I asked him to find out what was going on.

He had called me that morning, said it appeared Daniel had up and left town. His wife and kids too, gone. It looked strange. He’d asked around, nobody knew where he was.

I had a bad feeling and called our company lawyer, who told me that he had been contacted by an agent from the IRS, who’d requested certain documents.

“It looks like they want to launch an investigation.”

“What?”

“It could be routine, or it might be something more. I’m not sure. I’ve asked someone to look into it. They are particularly interested in the South American companies.”

That was Calderwood’s domain.

“They have asked questions about some of the revenue from our branches in Brazil.”

“What does Jim say?” The head of our tax people.

“He says, we’d better comply.”

I called the Chairman of the Board, Brock Brenneman, who said he would find out what he could.

“It’s probably very standard,” he said, trying to reassure me.

But I wasn’t so sure.

One thing I had learnt in my job as CEO, was that nothing was ever quite as it seemed. The good deals often had something hidden in the small print and the toughest agreements often turned out to have advantages that I couldn’t have foreseen. Being in charge of a multi-national like Ladden sometimes felt like I was the main keeper at a crocodile park, trying to feed the monsters while not being eaten at the same time.

It was nerve-wracking.

I couldn’t think of anything but the IRS investigation. I texted the girl that I was busy and turned off my phone.

I had to keep my head clear.

The next day, some accountants were coming in to start the investigation. I had to look calm and cool, but not overly confident or too smooth. I needed to get a night of proper sleep, no partying all over town with a girl whose idea of right and wrong was very, very flexible.

The next morning, I was at the office bright and early.

I knew it freaked people out when I got there ahead of everyone else, but I liked keeping staff on their toes. I asked my PA to keep me informed of the arrival of the accountants. I had cleared a boardroom for them.

As soon as security alerted us to their arrival, I sent down Alana Tenielle, my second-in-command, to welcome them. I wanted to be out of sight initially. I went down to the second floor to watch them come into the building.

They were a small team of about seven men and women, all wearing business attire. I watched as they signed in, got their security passes, and got onto the escalator.

I stood on the other side of the entrance hall, on the top hall, in the corner. It was an excellent vantage point from which to spy on people arriving. I often did that, to get a feeling for an adversary before a meeting. To see people when they were unaware of being watched, at ease, as it were.

I let my eyes take them in and found myself drawn to the figure of a young woman. There was something about her. My eyes lingered on her, trying to place her. She was familiar somehow, more than familiar too, it was like I knew her.

With a sudden intake of breath, it came back to me.

The elevator falling, me and the girl on the elevator, being trapped together, kissing.

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