“So there’s nothing,” I said. “Other than the fact that in June of 2009, GHI bought two companies.”
“That’s not all that happened in June of 2009,” she said. “That month, GHI also called off a plan to go public.”
Interesting. “Global Harvest is privately owned,” I said.
Shauna nodded. “It was handed down from Oliver Manning to his son, Randall. It’s grown substantially during Randall’s tenure. But he runs the place flat-out. He owns one hundred percent of the stock. They were going to take the company public. Randall stood to make tens of millions. Then, in June of 2009, he called it off.”
“Okay, so why would he do that?”
“You go public, you have stockholders,” said Shauna. “You have a board of directors. If people don’t like what you’re doing, they throw you out on your ass. Or the shareholders can file derivative suits.”
“You surrender control,” I said.
“Right. You own it outright, privately, you call the shots. Nobody questions you.”
Good. That was a good thing to know. There was something significant about June of 2009, I assumed. Randall Manning decided to keep a firm control on his company, and he purchased two other companies.
“If there’s anything there, I’ll find it,” said Shauna, when I pointed this out.
I threw my football in the air and caught it. “Anything else before we move on?”
“There’s one more thing. Summerset Farms. It wasn’t really a preexisting company that GHI purchased. Summerset Farms was a farm, owned by a farmer, who sold his wheat output to commercial entities.”
“I thought GHI purchased the stock of an existing company.”
“Technically, yes, Jason, but listen to what I’m saying. The farmer incorporated, like any large farm should do. But he didn’t make granola or bread. He just grew wheat and sold it. GHI came along and bought him out. They kept the corporate name, Summerset Farms, but turned it into a different operation. They expanded their operations, too. They purchased more acreage. They bought out a number of neighboring farms. They have several square miles of land in the southwest in unincorporated Fordham County.”
I threw my football up in the air again. “So why would a corporate giant like GHI want to get into the local grocery business?”
Shauna shook her head. “Oh, GHI owns all kinds of companies. They’re incredibly diversified. They’re the principal shareholder in a chain of sporting-goods stores down south, believe it or not. They own outright a personal storage company called We-Hold-It or something like that. They own a men’s clothier out east, a billboard company in California-I mean, it doesn’t end.
“But the better question is, if they did want to get into the local grocery business, why wouldn’t they buy an existing company that’s already in that business? That’s their M. O. They started Summerset Farms basically from scratch.”
“Is that necessarily odd behavior?” Tori asked.
It was a good question. Nobody in the room had ever worked for a corporate giant. Shauna had done lots of corporate legal work, and Lightner had done investigative work for large companies, but none of us knew a thing about strategic planning for an international company.
“There’s gotta be big money in commercial-grade fertilizer,” said Joel Lightner. “Wherever there’s money, there’s ways to skirt things. Maybe somebody at Global Harvest and Summerset Farms was doing something hinky off the books. Maybe this character Randall Manning was embezzling or something. You said he was sensitive about the sales records between GHI and Summerset?”
“Oh, yeah, there’s something there,” I said. “No question. This guy would’ve rather had a proctology exam than talk to me about Summerset Farms.” I nodded to Shauna. “What about this other company GHI bought at the same time-SK Tool and Supply?”
Shauna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her notes. “I don’t have much on them yet. They were a preexisting company, though. SK Tool and Supply was owned by a guy named Stanley Keane, thus the SK. They’re strictly B-to-B-”
“Translation, please.”
“Sorry, business-to-business. SK sells industrial-grade power tools and all sorts of other equipment to all kinds of industrial clients.”
“Stanley Keane has no criminal record,” Joel Lightner chimed in. “That’s all I know about him so far.”
“And that’s all I know about the company so far,” Shauna said. “They’re clean with the feds and state, their corporate papers are all in order. From what I can tell, there’s nothing there.”
I pointed to her. “Did SK Tool and Supply ever sell anything to Summerset Farms?”
“I don’t know yet. There’s no way to know who they sell their products to. That’s not inherently public information. For what it’s worth, I put in three calls to them today and got no return. I even called their lawyer, Bruce McCabe, who as you know isn’t inclined to be much help.”
“No, he isn’t. You couldn’t go visit them, Shauna? A face-to-face?”
“They’re more than two hours away, J. We just started looking at them. I just haven’t had time.”
“And tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. That’s four more days we lose. And then it’s three days to trial.” I moaned. “Bradley, I take it that SK Tool and Supply doesn’t sell fertilizer?”
“Not according to the Agriculture Department’s database, no.”
“So if they’re connected to Summerset Farms, it’s through something else. Something that we don’t know, and that will be almost impossible to discover before the trial starts a fucking week from today.”
Tori cleared her throat. “Can I ask a question?”
“Shoot,” I said. Tori’s outside perspective had proven helpful in focusing me.
“Why would there necessarily be a connection to Summerset Farms?”
“I’m not sure there is,” I conceded. “But GHI bought both companies at the same time, in June of 2009. And all three of them have the same lawyer, Bruce McCabe. And GHI was pretty damn sensitive about disclosing its dealings with Summerset Farms. So sensitive that it handed out a ridiculously generous settlement to LabelTek and, if my theory is correct, murdered a paralegal who was asking too many questions.”
It was good to say it aloud. It sounded plausible. If I could fill in some blanks, it was a workable theory at trial. It gave me a needed boost.
“Is that it, Shauna? Anything else?”
“Well, I had been working with Dr. Baraniq. But I guess that’s over.”
“The hell it is. Bring him in on Friday.”
She made a face. “Judge Nash barred him from testifying.”
“He struck the insanity defense,” I clarified. “He didn’t say anything about Dr. Sofian Baraniq testifying or not testifying.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, J. How does Dr. Baraniq help us?”
I had an idea about that. But there was no need to get bogged down now. “Let’s talk about that later. Let’s move on. Bradley,” I said.
“I have subpoenas prepared for the Department of Agriculture, SK Tool and Supply, Summerset Farms, Stanley Keane personally… Let’s see, you already served Randall Manning and GHI in person. You want me to send the other subpoenas out?”
“Not yet,” I said. “The minute we serve them, we have to show the prosecution. I don’t want to tip my hand just yet.” In fact, it occurred to me that I might momentarily forget that I served Randall Manning with that subpoena. For the time being, it might slip my mind to tell the prosecution.
“And what about Judge Nash?” Shauna asked. “You haven’t disclosed any of this, and you’re way past the discovery order cutoff. Isn’t he going to deny all of this?”
I sighed and tossed the football in the air. “I already have that problem, whether I disclose it now or a week from now. But I’ve laid a pretty good record here, I think. He fucked me on the insanity defense and fucked me on the fitness argument, and then when I said I was now being stripped of my defense on the eve of trial and needed additional time to prepare, he fucked me again. He’s a stubborn old goat, but he’s not stupid. If he doesn’t give me a little slack on what I can show the jury, he runs a real risk of being reversed on appeal.”