Chapter 8 - Emptying the Corner Offices
By nine o'clock that morning, the second floor of the administration building looked like an archaeological dig.
Two forensic accounting teams from an independent firm in Pittsburgh had arrived, their black nylon equipment cases lining the hallway outside Marcus Vance’s former office. State commercial fraud investigators were already reviewing the server logs, copying every deleted correspondence, and boxing every financial folder that bore the initials of the terminated executives.
Margaret Ellis had attempted to enter the property at eight-thirty, accompanied by a high-profile white-collar defense attorney from the state capital.
Daniel had met them at the security barrier, flanked by Greg Miller and the company’s corporate legal counsel.
""You have no authority to bar me from this premises, Daniel,"" Margaret had said through the half-open window of her Mercedes, her sunglasses hiding her eyes, though the trembling tension in her jaw betrayed her panic. ""I am still a registered shareholder of record.""
""You are a shareholder under active investigation for corporate larceny, Margaret,"" Daniel had replied with absolute, icy calm. ""Under the emergency injunction signed by Judge Thornton forty minutes ago, your presence on this property constitutes criminal trespass. If this vehicle crosses the yellow threshold, Greg will place you under citizen’s arrest and hand you directly to the county sheriff waiting in the guardhouse.""
Her attorney had leaned forward, whispered two sharp sentences into her ear, and Margaret had thrown the car into reverse with such violence that her tires screeched across the wet asphalt.
Now, Daniel stood in the center of the corner executive suite that had belonged to Margaret for eleven years.
The room was vast, carpeted in deep wool plush, with panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire manufacturing valley. A four-thousand-dollar espresso bar stood against the east wall. Abstract modern art pieces, leased at corporate expense for eight thousand dollars a month, hung from the silk-textured wallpaper.
Walter walked in, holding a brown paper bag containing two warm blueberry muffins from the cafeteria. He set the bag on the polished glass desk and looked around the cavernous room with a bemused shake of his head.
""A lot of space for one person,"" Walter observed.
""Too much space,"" Daniel agreed, walking to the window. Below them, fork-trucks moved yellow steel coils across the yard, their amber safety lights flashing rhythmically in the gray morning mist. ""I'm eliminating this office, Walter.""
Walter looked up, curious. ""What are you going to do with it?""
""I'm converting the entire executive third floor into an on-site technical training academy and childcare center for plant employees,"" Daniel said, turning back around. ""We lose fifteen skilled machinists a year because they can't find affordable childcare during the early morning shifts. And the community college in town doesn't have the equipment to train young people on advanced multi-axis CNC systems. We'll train them here, on our dime, and guarantee them a journeyman’s wage when they finish.""
Walter took a slow bite of his muffin, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his weathered face. ""Your board members in New York are going to spit their morning coffee all over their mahogany tables when you present that capital allocation, Daniel.""
""Let them spit it,"" Daniel replied with a wry smile. ""We have the Founder’s Golden Share. If they don't like the investment, they can sell their equity to our new employee stock ownership trust. David Klein and Arthur Sterling have already agreed to anchor the trust with their personal shares.""
Walter nodded slowly, looking out over the plant yard. ""Ruth would have liked that. When we started, we had a day-care room set up right behind the welding shop. Ruth watched six toddlers while their mothers operated the drill presses during the afternoon shift. Folks said it was unprofessional. Ruth said it was community.""
The conference phone on the desk chirped. Daniel tapped the speaker.
""Daniel, it's David Klein,"" the voice announced, clear and urgent. ""The preliminary trading session just opened. Kensington & Cole issued a hostile press release claiming Bennett Industrial is in operational default on the supply contracts. Our share price dipped seven percent in the first ten minutes.""
Daniel didn't flinch. He leaned over the speaker. ""David, call an emergency press briefing for ten-thirty in the main plant lobby. Don't invite the financial cable channels to a studio. Bring them here. Bring them down to Machine Bay One. And make sure every news camera in the state has a clear shot of our stamping presses running at full capacity.""
""What are you going to tell them?"" David asked.
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Daniel looked at Walter Bennett, whose eyes were bright with quiet confidence.
""I'm going to tell them,"" Daniel said, ""that Bennett Industrial isn't for sale. And that the most profitable thing a company can manufacture is trust."""
