Chương 9
“Partly.”
“Can culture create a twenty-million-dollar liquidity problem?”
“Absolutely.”
I pulled up the labor variance.
“But this isn’t only culture.”
We found the other problem three days later.
Mercer had acquired a controls contractor called Vector Logic eighteen months earlier.
The purchase was supposed to give them proprietary building-automation capability.
Instead, Vector’s senior engineers had left after the acquisition.
The company retained the contracts but lost much of the expertise required to deliver them efficiently.
Mercer filled gaps with subcontractors at rates far above bid assumptions.
“Why keep selling controls work?” Marcus asked.
“Because they bought a controls company.”
“That isn’t a reason.”
“It is if admitting otherwise makes the acquisition look bad.”
Priya stared at the turnover report.
“Who approved the acquisition?”
I already knew before we found the signature page.
Blake Mercer.
I went home after midnight.
June was asleep on the couch with a chemistry book open on her stomach.
The television was running some cooking competition with the sound muted.
I touched her shoulder.
She woke immediately.
“You’re late.”
“You’re observant.”
“Food’s in the fridge.”
“You cooked?”
“Maya’s mom did.”
“So civilization remains intact.”
She sat up and squinted at me.
“You look weird.”
“That is becoming a family tradition.”
“No, weird-weird.”
I took off my coat.
“Work.”
“Grandpa’s company?”
I stopped.
June crossed her arms.
“Grandma told me they were having problems.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“And you didn’t mention it?”
“You don’t like when I bring them up.”
That hurt because it was true.
I sat on the coffee table across from her.
“I’m doing some work related to the company.”
“What kind?”
“Reviewing whether someone should invest in it.”
“Does Uncle Blake know?”
“No.”
She became fully awake.
“That sounds bad.”
“It could become bad.”
“For him?”
“For a lot of people.”
June looked down at the chemistry book.
“Would it make you happy if he lost the company?”
The answer arrived before I could improve it.
“A little.”
She looked at me.
I exhaled.
“That’s ugly, but it’s true.”
“Would it make you happy if Grandpa lost it?”
I rubbed my palms together.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think it would fix anything.”
June considered that.
“Would it fix Uncle Blake?”
“No.”
“Then what would?”
“I don’t know.”
She picked at a corner of the textbook.
“I still hate him.”
“You’re allowed.”
“I don’t think about him much.”
“That’s probably healthier.”
She looked up.
“But when I do, I hate him.”
I nodded.
She touched the faint scar beneath her eye.
The line had faded, but it became visible when she was tired or cold.
“I don’t want you helping him because you feel sorry for me.”
“I’m not.”
“And don’t destroy him because of me either.”
I stared at her.
“That’s a lot to put on a Tuesday night.”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“See, this job is already dangerous.”
She smiled.
Then she said, “I mean it.”
“I know.”
At school the next morning, I received a message from Evelyn.
Mercer had agreed to an in-person management diligence session.
Blake would attend.
So would my father.
I called her immediately.
“You knew this was coming.”
“I suspected.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I told you the review could lead to management meetings.”
“You did not tell me Walter Mercer would be sitting across a conference table from me.”
“Would it have changed your answer?”
I said nothing.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“That is manipulative.”
“Yes.”
At least she did not insult me by denying it.
“When?”
“Friday.”
“What time?”
“One.”
I looked at the calendar.
Two days.
“Do they know I’ll be there?”
“Not yet.”
“Evelyn.”
“You are not a surprise witness.”
“It’s going to feel like one.”
“We can disclose the team today.”
I paced beside my desk.
“No.”
She waited.
“I want to review everything first.”
“That sounds uncomfortably close to wanting the advantage.”
“It is the advantage.”
“And you’re comfortable with that?”
“No.”
“Better answer.”
I ended the call and found Dana in the controls lab reviewing submittals.
“I need to ask you something about Mercer.”
She went still.
“I thought we agreed not to do this.”
“We did.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not personal.”
“That’s usually what people say right before something becomes very personal.”
I closed the lab door.
“Ardent is evaluating an investment.”
She stared at me.
“In Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re involved.”
“Yes.”
A slow breath left her.
“You should not be talking to me.”
“I’m not asking for confidential information.”
“You’re asking something.”
“I need to understand whether the forecasting problems were pressure from Blake specifically or broader management behavior.”
Dana looked toward the glass wall.
“Why?”
“Because if the problem is one executive, governance can address it.”
“And if it’s everyone?”
“Then capital might just postpone failure.”
She laughed without humor.
“Now you sound like private equity.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“That’s probably how it starts.”
I waited.
She folded her arms.
“Blake did not tell people to falsify forecasts.”
That mattered.
“He didn’t?”
“No.”
“Did he punish bad forecasts?”
“He punished embarrassment.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if a problem came up early and privately, sometimes he helped.”
“And if it came up after he had repeated a number to your father or the board?”
Her expression answered before she did.
“Then somebody paid.”
“So people learned to delay.”
“People learned to make problems disappear.”
“Did he know?”
Dana looked at me for a long moment.
“Your brother is not stupid.”
That was not proof.
It was not supposed to be.
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
She stopped me at the door.
“Ethan.”
I turned.
“If you go into that company thinking Blake is the only problem, you’ll miss your father.”
I said nothing.
She added, “And if you go in thinking your father is the only problem, you’ll miss everybody who learned from him.”
Friday arrived with sleet against the windows.
May you like
I wore the only suit June said did not make me look like an assistant principal.
At twelve thirty, I entered Ardent’s boardroom with Evelyn, Marcus, Priya, and two members of the investment committee.
