The Successor Read online

  Allison hesitated. She didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. “He didn’t say anything like that. All he said was that you’ve been one of Everest Capital’s biggest supporters for a long time.” Allison had been a managing partner at Everest for a while, but this was the first time she’d ever met Victoria Graham. Christian handled Everest’s biggest and most important investors himself. “He has a lot of respect for you,” Allison continued. “Says you made Mutual of Pennsylvania what it is today.” Mutual of Pennsylvania—MuPenn, as the Street called the firm—was one of the biggest and most profitable insurance groups in the country. Graham had been CEO and chairman for nineteen years. She still ran the company with an iron fist, still got involved with decisions about what to do with the massive amount of premium dollars pouring into its coffers every day. “Says you’ve been with Everest from the start.”

  “That’s right,” Graham confirmed. “I invested a million dollars with Christian’s old boss and mentor Bill Donovan, back in the early days, back in the mideighties. When Bill was just getting Everest off the ground. I wasn’t even CEO of MuPenn at that point, just chief investment officer.” She shook her head. “That first fund Bill put together was only twenty-five million dollars.” She glanced at Allison. “How big is the fund Christian just finished raising? I can’t remember exactly.”

  “Twenty-five billion.”

  “My Lord. That’s incredible.”

  “MuPenn invested seven hundred and fifty million dollars,” Allison reminded Graham. “You’re one of our biggest investors.”

  Graham nodded. “I do remember that number. I signed off on the investment personally. The board doesn’t usually ask me to do that anymore, but it’s the biggest single investment we’ve ever made, and they wanted to make sure I rubber-stamped it personally.”

  “Just in case something goes wrong.” A CYA move, Allison realized.

  “Right,” Graham agreed. “But nothing will. Christian has a great track record. He’s the best in the business.” She hesitated. “Which I’m sure is why your family invested so much with Everest.”

  The Wallaces were one of the wealthiest families in the country. Based in Chicago, they’d made their first fortune during the 1800s off railroads. Then it was real estate, parceling off and selling land they’d acquired from owning the railroad and developing other tracts themselves. Most recently, they’d struck it huge with the cell phone explosion. Forbes and Fortune put the family’s net worth at $40 billion, but the number was actually higher. Several years ago the Wallaces had committed $5 billion to the last Everest fund—the one Christian had raised prior to the current $25 billion pool—and it was the largest individual commitment ever made to any leveraged-buyout firm. They’d sent Allison to Manhattan to watch over the massive commitment—and to learn.

  “I thought you were going back to Chicago after that last fund was fully invested,” Graham spoke up. “To set up your own leveraged-buyout business for your family. I remember Christian telling me that when he was first considering taking your family on as an investor. He was worried that you’d ultimately become his competitor.”

  Allison looked down. “I decided to stay.”

  “Why?”

  “I like Manhattan.” She liked Christian, too, a lot. Had since the moment they’d met. And he had the same feelings for her, she was sure. A couple of times it had almost gone to the next level, almost burst into something intense. But that they worked together always seemed to get in the way. “And I had a bit of a falling-out with my family.”

  Graham raised one eyebrow. “Tell me about that.”

  Victoria Graham could ask all the questions she wanted to, but there didn’t have to be answers. Not when they dealt with Allison’s personal life. Of course, she didn’t want to aggravate one of Everest’s biggest investors, either. Christian wouldn’t be happy about that. “Things happen, you know?”

  “Did you and Gordon Meade not get along?”

  Gordon Meade had been in charge of the Wallace Family Trust—the vehicle the family used to make most of its investments—until a couple of years ago. After years of thinking Meade was a hired gun—an outsider who ran the trust because no one inside had that kind of experience—Allison had stumbled onto the fact that he was really a family member—with a dark secret. “We did…for the most part.”

  “I ran into Gordon a few times while he was running your family’s money. It’s a small world. Seemed like a nice enough man. But he died, right?”

  Allison nodded.

  “How?”

  Now that was a tricky question. There was the official story—then what had really happened. “He had a stroke,” Allison answered. She managed to keep her eyes locked on Graham’s, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Who’s running the family money now?”

  “My brother.”

  “Is that why you had the falling-out with your family? They chose him and not you?”

  Allison shook her head. “No.” It was clear that Graham was expecting more of an explanation, but she wasn’t going to get it.

  Graham watched one of the snakes wrap itself around a limb inside its cage. “How many employees are there at Everest now?”

  Good. Graham was off the family topic. “Almost eighty.”

  “How many partners? How many of you reporting directly to Christian?”

  “Five.”

  “Are you the only female partner?”

  “Yes. We had another one, but she left last year to have a baby. Her husband’s an investment banker at Morgan Stanley so they didn’t need her income and she hasn’t come back. I doubt she will. Christian’s keeping a slot open for her, but I think she’s already pregnant again.”

  “That’s our curse, isn’t it?” Graham asked rhetorically. “We have the babies. It’s very hard to do both. Work and be a mom, I mean. At least, effectively.” She tapped her desk, as if she’d spent a lot of time thinking about that conflict but hadn’t come up with any solutions. “How’s your relationship with Christian?”

  Allison glanced up. She’d been thinking about having a baby. It was something she was thinking about more and more lately. “Fine. We’re good business partners.”

  “Any spark between you two?”

  There it was again. Graham’s habit of asking whatever was on her mind. Allison made a face, as if to say that there was no chance of that ever happening. “No way.”

  “Why not? You’re both single, both good-looking, and you probably spend a lot of time together. That’s a damn good recipe for romance.” Graham laughed. “What’s the matter, isn’t Christian any fun? I’ve told him so many times he’s got to start letting go a little.”

  Allison grinned. “He has his moments. Not many, but some.” In all fairness, Christian didn’t have much time for fun. People always needed him for something, and he was constantly having to make tough decisions. More and more she understood that because people were starting to pull her in so many different directions, too. “I just don’t think it would do our business relationship much good if we ever started the other thing. And what if it didn’t work? Then where would we be?”

  Allison had tried to convince Christian several times that they could have romance without its getting in the way of what they needed to do every day at Everest—but she wanted to make certain Graham heard the party line. He’d come close to agreeing with her once, then backed off. She understood his point. It wouldn’t be a good idea for the investors to think the chairman and one of the senior partners were hot for each other. If anything ever did happen between them, it would have to stay quiet. And she’d never been able to answer those questions he always asked. What if they tried it and it didn’t take? What if the breakup wasn’t mutual? Would they still be able to work together?

  “And,” Allison continued, “people would talk if we did start seeing each other outside Everest.”

  “The hell with people. It’s not their lives.” Graham put her head back and laughed. “Of course, at fifty
-seven it’s easier for me to say that than it is for you.”

  “You’ve never been married, have you?” The words had tumbled out of Allison’s mouth abruptly, taking both of them by surprise. But she’d wanted to ask the older woman that question ever since reading this morning that Graham had never been married, never had children. Allison was starting to wonder if it was ever going to happen for her. The last ten years had blown by so fast. Pretty soon getting pregnant wouldn’t be an option, at least not without risks. “Why not?” She smiled to herself. Graham’s tendency to ask whatever question was on her mind was rubbing off.

  “Never found the right man.” Graham shook her head quickly and held up her hand. “That’s not exactly true,” she admitted softly. “I just never found the time. Life goes by so fast when you’re in the trenches fighting it every day.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Of course, maybe I didn’t want to find the time. Maybe I was so busy battling men all day long I didn’t want to be around one at night. Maybe that’s why I have all these snakes in my office,” she said, making a sweeping gesture. “To remind me of all the snakes I’ve dealt with in my career so I won’t end up with one. At least not permanently.” Graham’s expression turned sad. “Anyway, I woke up one morning, I was fifty, and I was all alone.” She pointed at Allison after a poignant pause. “Don’t let that happen to you, dear. It’s like they say: In the end, it’s the wink of an eye.”

  “You’re not near the end,” Allison said firmly.

  “I’m not near the beginning either.” Graham clapped her hands to break the mood. “So, what’s your favorite movie, Allison?”

  Allison glanced at the alligator and thought for a few seconds. “Well…I…I mean, there’s so many—”

  The older woman banged a fist on her desk. “Don’t give me that,” she said loudly. “Just tell me what your favorite movie is, Allison. The one you’d pick if you were going to prison for the rest of your life and all you could take with you was a TV, a DVD player, and one DVD. Come on.”

  “It hasn’t been made yet. And I doubt I’ll have to go to prison tomorrow for the rest of my life.”

  Graham started to say something, then broke into a wide smile. “No one’s ever given me that answer before. A for originality, but I still want to know what—”

  “Caddyshack.”

  Graham’s eyes ballooned. “Oh, no, you can’t—”

  “Just kidding.” Allison laughed. She was suddenly feeling very comfortable with Victoria Graham. “I have to say Out of Africa. With Meryl Streep and Robert Redford.”

  “I love that movie, too.”

  “Streep’s so wonderful in any role, and she plays a very strong woman in that movie. And, well…Redford’s very sexy. Even though he’s older in it.” Allison cringed, thinking of how that might sound to Graham. “Not that being old is bad.”

  “Please, Allison. I’m very aware of my age and I don’t have any problem with it. In fact, I’m probably happier now than I’ve ever been. Well, maybe more at peace with myself is a better way to put it.” Graham waved. “Enough of that. It’s a wonderful question, isn’t it? The movie thing, I mean. The answer says so much about you. And what’s really interesting is that more often than not it’s men who won’t give you an answer at all. They get so defensive about it, too. Like the answer might be held against them in court or something so they aren’t willing to open up.”

  “It is a good question.” Allison was going to ask Christian the next time she saw him. The answer would be damn interesting now that she’d known him so long. “What does my answer tell you about me?”

  “We’ll talk about that next time. But right now let’s get to the real reason I asked you to come see me today.”

  “Okay.” Graham had called a week ago out of the blue—they’d never even spoken before. Allison had gone right to Christian to tell him about the call. He’d seemed a little surprised, but agreed that if Graham wanted to see her, she had to go. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Graham gazed across the desk. “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “I told Christian before I agreed to sign off on MuPenn’s investment into Everest’s new fund that he had to come up with a succession plan.”

  “Why?” Allison asked. “He’s only forty-three. He’s got a lot of years left.”

  “I’ve known Christian for a while now, and I’m worried that he might be burning out on Everest, on the financial thing in general. It’s like he needs a new challenge.”

  Allison wondered if Graham somehow knew how close Christian had come to being Jesse Wood’s vice president. Figured he’d been so interested in doing that because he was getting tired of all the headaches involved with running Everest. That he wanted a new set of headaches because at least they would be different headaches. After all, he’d done just about all there was to do in the financial world. People like Christian were constantly looking for new challenges, she knew. New worlds to conquer. She’d probably be in the same boat soon.

  “Even if he isn’t burning out,” Graham continued, “at a firm as big and important as Everest Capital, you need to have a succession plan in place in case something happens.”

  “You mean…”

  “Right. If Christian gets hit by a bus on Park Avenue.”

  Allison smiled. “He’s a pretty careful guy. And besides, she laughed, they don’t run buses on Park Avenue.”

  Graham’s expression turned grave. “When you’re as important and rich as Christian Gillette, sometimes that bus will find you wherever you are. Doesn’t hit you by accident.”

  Allison tried to seem shocked, but she knew Graham was right. Being wealthy and powerful automatically painted a bull’s-eye on your back—for a lot of reasons. That had been drilled into her head at a young age.

  Graham leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk. “When I told Christian he needed a succession plan, I told him I thought it should focus on you. I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you came to Everest. You’ve done a great job. You’ve done more deals than anyone other than Christian, and, thanks to your family, you’ve got all the right connections. I told Christian that he should name you vice chairman.”

  A thrill burst through Allison’s body. Christian had actually mentioned that possibility a couple of years ago, when it seemed that Jesse Wood was going to name him vice president. When Wood had backed off on that, Christian had refocused on Everest, concentrating on raising the latest fund. Apparently less concerned about succession at the firm since he wasn’t going into politics after all.

  “Is that something you’d want?” Graham asked.

  “Absolutely,” Allison answered quickly and firmly. “I’d love to run Everest at some point. There are some things I’d change, too. Not that Christian’s doing anything wrong,” she added quickly.

  “I’d like to see more women get shots at running these big leveraged-buyout firms,” Graham continued. “It’s still such a good old boy fraternity in your world right now. The great thing is, Christian’s a lot more open-minded than most of the execs at the other big firms.” Her eyes glistened. “I think he’ll do it. I think he’ll name you vice chairman.”

  “I’d love it.” Allison spotted a picture on a credenza to the right of Graham’s desk. A small three-by-five photograph of Graham sitting at a table with a man wearing a tux, both of them leaning toward each other so their cheeks were almost touching. It was the only picture of Graham Allison had seen in the entire office. And it was half-hidden behind a small plant. “I really would,” she said, rising from her chair.

  “Let me ask you a question.” Graham watched Allison walk to the credenza and pick up the frame. “This falling-out with your family. Does that mean you’re out of the will?”

  Allison didn’t know which answer Graham wanted, but there was no reason to try to hide anything. Graham would be able to check out her story. People like Victoria Graham had connections everywhere. “I’m out of the estate, have been for two
years,” Allison said wryly as she looked at the man in the picture. He seemed familiar but she couldn’t place him. “I need this job.”

  Graham clapped loudly. “Good.” Her expression turned serious, the same way it had when they’d started talking about why Everest needed a succession plan. “Now we can get down to why I really called you over here today.”

  “Who is this?” Allison asked, pointing at the picture.

  Graham gave her a forced smile. “A friend.”

  There was more to it than that, much more. Allison had known Victoria Graham for only a little while now, but she could already tell that there was probably an entire novel behind that forced smile. “I recognize him,” she said loudly. “That’s Lloyd Dorsey. The senator from Texas.”

  Graham nodded slowly. “Yes, it is.”

  Allison hesitated, wondering if she should be so forward as to ask. It would be a risk, but sometimes you built bridges much faster by taking risks. And Victoria Graham certainly seemed like the type of woman who respected directness. “Is Senator Dorsey the real reason you never got married?”

  7

  THEY CALLED THEMSELVES Los Secretos Seis. The Secret Six.

  If anyone inside the Party loyal to the regime ever found out about them and their objectives, they’d be executed. Tortured first, so the authorities could learn as much as possible about what they were trying to do and whom they were trying to do it with, then murdered. Probably hung in a filthy, remote cell at one of the worst prisons—after being slowly castrated with a dull penknife—then buried in some mass, unmarked grave deep in the rain forest up in the mountains on the eastern end of the island. Where their remains would be found thousands of years from now by archaeologists of some future civilization who could offer only scant conjecture as to what might have happened to them.

  The worst part was that their families would be kidnapped and tortured, too. The six men understood the risks going in. If they were caught and executed, so be it. A horrible outcome—however, that was the risk they ran. But their wives and children had no idea what was going on. No secret information about the inner workings or connections of the Six—no idea that the group even existed. However, the authorities wouldn’t look at it that way. They’d assume the families knew something—that at least the wives did. So, of course, they’d torture the children in front of the mothers for maximum effect, to withdraw every shred of information possible—whatever the women made up as they begged for mercy and the lives of their offspring.