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From: "Bill Morgan" <morg105829@hotmail.com>
Subject: {Morgan} NEW: Six-month Turnaround 12/16 M/F Rom, lite sex
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Author's note: If you are looking for wall-to-wall sex, look elsewhere.
This book is a romance with a business setting. Beyond that, the sex is
comparable to - or less than - what one would find in almost any work of
popular fiction.
Permission is granted to post on any free site, as long as the copyright
statement is included. Please advise the author of any such postings.
Comments are welcome and encouraged. Please address me at
morg105829@aol.com.
I hope you enjoy the book. My plan was to post a chapter each weekday;
however, Eli has been having problems, so ASSM has not been posting
daily. As a result, I am uploading the remaining chapters now. This is
chapter 12 of 16.
Six-Month Turnaround
Copyright 1992, 1998 by Morgan. All rights reserved.
Chapter 12
It was late July and a very hot summer day in Milwaukee when Cliff got a
call from Steve Muller. Steve sounded excited and asked if he could come
over to see him. Cliff told him to come anytime and a few moments later
he came into the office followed by Sandy Donnell and Carlos Murphy.
Carlos was their find of the year. He was a third- generation
Argentinean, educated in the States. Despite its spelling, his last name
was pronounced Mur-pee; Carlos told of his grandmother, a native-born
Argentine, who never spoke a word of Spanish in her life. And, he
claimed, never understood what she called "that heathen tongue,"
referring, of course, to Spanish. Carlos was from a town in Argentina
named Murphy, as well. Steve was never sure if they found Carlos or he
found them. He was only twenty-six years old and had earned his MBA from
Babson College. He had joined the company to lead its drive to increase
export sales, and had just returned from his first sales trip to South
America.
One look at their faces told Cliff the trip had been a success. He
whispered something to Sandy who grinned and left the office. "Carlos,
how did it go?"
"Well, Boss, they loved our special Latin American program!" The young
man grinned broadly as he said it. The special Latin American program
consisted of the most elementary things: translating the packaging
materials and instructions into Spanish, preparing normal export
documentation, and accepting export letter-of-credit financing. Murphy
Manufacturing had never done any of those things before. Moreover, as
far as anyone in the company knew, Carlos's trip was the first time
anyone from Murphy had ever visited Latin America on business.
"I only went to Mexico and Venezuela on this trip. It was the funniest
thing I have ever seen. My first stop was Mexico City. I had a couple of
names and telephone numbers of companies that had bought from us in the
past on our usual export terms. I called the first name on the list."
The "customary terms" had been cash in advance, with buyer taking
delivery at the Murphy shipping dock. Any special export arrangements
were the buyer's problem. The only thing Murphy did was provide
heavier-than-normal crating, and even that had been provided with great
reluctance. "At any rate, I introduced myself and asked for an
appointment. I thought the guy was going to faint when I said I was down
from Milwaukee and actually spoke Spanish. Anyway, he wouldn't hear of
me coming out to see him. He came dashing down to meet me at my hotel. I
guess he made a call or two before he left his office, though. I wasn't
off the phone five minutes when it started to ring. Other auto supply
people heard I was in town. Anyway, the first guy, Sr. Gonzalez, arrives
at the hotel, and I meet him in the bar.
"Cliff, I never got out of the damned bar. And I didn't even pay for a
drink. Incidentally, you know what impressed them the most? The fact
that Murphy Manufacturing had an export sales manager, and was actually
interested in supplying them on a consistent basis. Their history with
us - and a bunch of other American auto parts companies, apparently - is
we only sell them if, as and when we have a little extra capacity.
They're typically turned off more than they're on. Anyway, here's what I
got." He took a stack of signed orders out of his briefcase.
Sandy noted that every one had a letter of credit attached. She said,
"These are prepaid orders, if I understand this stuff. Moreover, every
one of the LC's is on an American bank. As I understand it, we ship the
stuff. When it's received in Mexico, the LC is released and we have our
cash. Right?"
"Right! Then I went to Caracas, and the same thing happened, only more
so. They have more money and more big US-built cars. We haven't totaled
it all, but it could total almost as much as the first Kaga order!"
Just then there was a knock at the door, and Sandy got up. She returned
to Cliff's desk with a brown paper bag that had been handed to her. Then
she took out a cold six-pack of beer and opened cans for everyone. "This
calls for a celebration! It's hot, this is a manufacturing company - we
get our hands dirty - so beer's in order. Cheers, Carlos, and
congratulations!"
That afternoon, Sandy buzzed to say there was a Kelly Cameron to see
them from Snyder Securities in Chicago.
"Oh, shit!" Cliff said, "I completely forgot, and the tone of your voice
says I never men tioned it to you, either. Cameron is a securities
analyst. I think he's the only one who follows Murphy. I was supposed to
see him in April but I ducked. I guess we have to see him. Do you have
time to put on your treasurer's suit?"
"Sure. I'll ask Betty to go bring up Cameron, and I'll join you in a few
minutes."
Betty Ames was looking beautiful when she showed Kelly Cameron into the
office. Cliff was surprised to find that Kelly was a girl, and his
surprise showed on his face. The young woman appeared to be under thirty
and was very attractive. She was five feet four, with short, dark hair.
She smiled and introduced herself. "I apologize for the
misrepresentation, although it really isn't. My name really is Kelly. My
interest is manufacturing companies, particularly automotive-related
ones. A lot of your colleagues in the industry don't like dealing with
women, so I guess I go out of my way not to mention that I'm female."
When Sandy entered the office and introduced herself, Kelly looked at
her closely. "Miss Donnell, you're the Murphy family of Murphy
Manufacturing, aren't you?"
Sandy was startled, but decided the meeting was essentially on the
record. Lying to an analyst wasn't smart and could possibly cause
problems with the SEC. "Yes, I guess I am, if you mean the family stock
is mine. It is... or will be in a couple of months."
Cameron took a seat and started right in. "Mr. Fitzpatrick, Murphy
hasn't been going anywhere to speak of. I estimate your current sales
are in the range of $500 to $600 million. For the last few years - too
many years - the company has been earning about 1 percent on sales, net.
That generates five to six dollars in earnings per share on the one
million shares outstanding. With no growth and uninspired profits the
market has been giving you a multiple of about five. The trading range
for the last few years has been $20 to $30 per share.
"I recently received a tip there are major problems here and came to
find out. First, I will tell you what I have heard, and then you can
comment. Number one: You have been cut off as a supplier to Magna
Motors. That was reported on the broad tape. It's about half your valve
and ring business, maybe more. I would estimate the loss at about $200
million a year in sales. Number two: You have sold off a whole bunch of
your auto parts stores. I would guess maybe two-thirds of them. That's
another drop in sales of about $65 million or so. Add those together,
Mr. Fitzpatrick, and Murphy has lost about 50 percent of its sales give
or take a bit. I'm looking for your profits to drop like a stone. How am
I doing? Oops! One more thing: the word around is George Simpson of Ajax
hates your guts and wants to destroy you. Comment?"
"With no flattery intended, I'm impressed. You obviously know the
business you follow, and not all of your colleagues do. Let me take your
comments in order. First, the history is obviously correct: the level of
sales, profits, number of shares, and so forth. With respect to Magna,
you are also unfortunately correct. We lost the business because of poor
quality." Kelly's eyebrows rose on his admission. "However, I have a
letter I would like to show you. We have been named the first mainline
American supplier to Kaga Motors' plant in Michigan. I have a letter
here from the managing director in Tokyo I will share with you. In fact,
I'll give you a copy if you promise not to show it to anyone until I can
get express permission from Japan to give it to you." He took out the
letter from his file and gave it to her.
She read it and let out a low whistle. "Mr. Fitzpatrick..."
Cliff interrupted. "Please call me Cliff. We're very informal here, and
I tend to do a double-take and look for my father when someone says,
'Mister Fitzpatrick.' Will you?"
"Sure, and please call me Kelly. I don't think I'm letting down the bars
too much. Anyway Cliff, if I understand this letter correctly, although
you lost the Magna business on quality, that's the very basis on which
you got the Kaga business. And with all due respect to our friends in
Troy, Kaga would throw out what Magna terms 'commercially- acceptable
quality' as totally unacceptable. What happened?"
Sandy entered the conversation. "Cliff Fitzpatrick happened. He junked a
ton of old, unsalable product. There's a significant asset write-down I
guess you didn't hear about, also. It's a write-off of finished goods
inventory. He found that two of our ten production machines were
incapable of producing parts within required tolerances and three others
weren't a whole lot better. We had far more people inspecting than we
had making. We don't any longer. We have had a huge employee layoff and
almost took a strike that would have buried the company. Cliff persuaded
the workers they could produce product every bit as good as the
Japanese. The rest of the letter speaks for itself."
Cliff smiled at the two young women. "As usual, Sandy fails to mention
her critical role in all of this. She is the one who spoke to the
workers. The union president was certain the people were going to walk
out. Sandy spoke to them as the owner, and they believed her. They voted
to stay. I think the letter from Kaga speaks for itself. Incidentally,
that's half of the lost Magna volume now and growing. The latest word is
the new ring our guy made is going to become Kaga's standard, so there
will also be royalty income we have never seen before."
"Could I go down to the factory floor?" Kelly asked. "When I visited
several years ago, I was strongly discouraged from doing so."
"Of course! We would be delighted. I hope you don't mind wearing a hard
hat? Oh... there's something else. We've got coats for visitors, too."
He looked at Sandy who went out and came back with a white coat with
MURPHY in red capital letters across the back, and a neatly stitched
badge saying Visitor on the breast. The hard hat was adjus table and
from the way Kelly went to work to size it, this was a familiar process
to her. She noticed that Cliff and Sandy had their own coats with
"Fitzpatrick" and "Donnell" lettered on them. Kelly decided that Sandy
looked very good in her coat with the red hat that matched the
lettering. She was impressed with the coats, both in terms of Sandy's
appearance and because it suggested they often visited the shop floor.
When they reached the floor, she was dazzled. Every worker was also
wearing a MURPHY coat. Obviously there were three colors - workers,
supervisors, and managers. It was as smooth running as any manufacturing
facility she had ever visited. The production machines looked brand new,
and she could see where two new ones were being installed. There
appeared to be substantial room for expansion.
Cliff pointed out a small quantity of Spanish-language packing
materials, and then took her to the cafeteria. When they closed the
door, the room was silent. Kelly noted that both Sandy and Cliff were
greeted by first name by everyone. No one seemed at all impressed by the
fact they were on the floor. Clearly, it was routine. They got coffee
and took a table in the rear.
"We closed our dining room, so everyone eats here, now," Cliff told her.
"This is the nicest looking plant cafeteria I've ever seen!" Kelly said.
Sandy noticed that the girl looked hungry.
"Kelly," she said,"do I detect skip-lunch-diet hunger pangs? If we don't
feed you, you look like you'll eat the table, and I'm not sure it's paid
for yet."
The girl grinned and accepted the invitation. They went through the line
again, because Sandy and Cliff hadn't eaten either. When they returned
to their table, Kelly was even more impressed. "Who runs this place for
you?" she asked.
"We run it ourselves," Cliff said. "We have an outstanding manager,
Janet Simmons, who's been with us for years. Incidentally, I showed you
the Spanish-language packaging. I'm going to tell you a competitive
confidence. We have a new export sales manager who just returned from
South America. He only returned this morning, and we're still totaling
the orders he brought back with him. It appears, however, that we have
enough business - paid in full, with accompanying irrevocable letters of
credit - to increase our total sales volume significantly in spite of
the loss of Magna. I mentioned it's in confidence. The confidence
doesn't extend to the income effects, but I would just as soon not
advertise to our competition how good Latin American business can be."
When they returned to the office, Kelly said, "Cliff, I'm impressed.
What you're telling me is you have more than covered the loss of the
Magna business, and, I infer, although neither of you said anything, at
substantially higher margins. There's been an asset write-down, but that
was junk, anyway. Would I be way off base if I guessed your costs are
way down, too? For example, I don't see the normal piles of scrap lying
around. I would guess your raw-material utilization is very high, and
your rejects are very low. I would estimate you may be looking at a 10
percent pretax profit now. Would that be close?"
Sandy and Cliff looked at each other. Cliff shrugged and Sandy said, "If
we think in terms of a reasonable range, I think you're in the ball
park." Sandy continued, "Now, you mentioned our Stores Division. You're
right, we did get rid of over two-thirds of our units. We got an
excellent price for them, by and large. It seems they're worth a lot
more to some other people than they were to us. The result is we plowed
some of the money back into our Southern Division which is all we have
left. We moved the buying function down to Charlotte for the Division,
changed our merchandise assortment, extended hours, and renovated all
the stores. Within sixty days, our sales per unit have tripled with
profits up much more. The result is, Kelly, we haven't lost any sales
from Stores to speak of, and are looking for substantially higher
numbers next year. Our profits are... very pleasant." Sandy finished her
comments with a grin.
Kelly was listening carefully and was now wide-eyed. "What I'm hearing
is that miracles have occurred here at Murphy. You will have sales
roughly even with last year or better, but with much higher profits. If
nothing at all happens next year, sales will be up substantially.
Moreover, I saw the new machines being put in place. That looks like a
20 percent capacity increase to me. By the way, you mentioned worn-out
production equipment. That's the most un-worn-out stuff I have ever
seen!"
Sandy grinned. "The folks at Micronics who built it just finished
reconditioning the last machines. They tell us they're better than
brand-new and our machinists agree. That's where some of the money
went."
Cliff picked up the narrative. "Then, of course, we have the
confidential activities of our brilliant treasurer, Sandy, who installed
a new cash management system. I think it's all in now. She picked up
about $75 million, so we are in better shape on the balance sheet than
we've been in years. There's essentially no debt. The cash pickup paid
for the modernization."
"One last question," Kelly said. "Where do you stand with Magna Motors
right now? I will make an observation, and I'm not asking for comment. I
think you are the low-cost producer in this industry right now. Based on
the Kaga letter, I have to believe you couple that with the highest
quality. When I was in business school, lowest costs and highest quality
were a very tough combination to beat. That's my observation. Now back
to the question. What about Magna? Do you think you'll get back in?"
Cliff answered. "Yes, Kelly, I do. But you know them far better than we
do. They are very slow to move... in any direction. I believe we will
get back in, but I couldn't guess when it will happen. Fair?"
"More than fair. Now one more question, completely off the record. When
are you two going to get married?"
Sandy and Cliff both started to laugh. She answered, "Does it really
show that much? Of course, I *do* worship the ground he walks on, but I
didn't think it was so obvious. The answer is we haven't set a date. And
this whole thing is very much off the record, please?"
Kelly grinned and nodded. "It certainly is. I'll be honest, though. I
intend to send you a very nice wedding gift when you do because I am
going to make an awful lot of money on Murphy stock. There's something
else, though. I wasn't just being nosy. To a person like me who tries to
figure out what makes a company tick, it's very important because I know
you are *both* vital to the company. You are also great people. This has
been the most enjoyable visit I have had in years, and it's going to be
the most profitable one as well.
"Cliff and Sandy, do you follow the market closely?" They both shook
their heads. Kelly grinned. "That's great, because if you did that, too,
I would be in trouble." Her face became serious. "The reason I asked is
because something strange is going on. It was the reason for my comments
at the beginning. I'm here because of an anonymous tip. You both know
what the short interest is, don't you? The extent to which shares of a
company are being sold short?" They both nodded. "Well, the short
interest in Murphy is big and getting bigger. I thought I had it all
figured out, and was toying with the idea of joining the bears - the
folks selling the stock short expecting its price to drop like a stone.
You know, I think we're seeing a bear raid."
"I've heard of them," Sandy said, "but I never knew exactly how they
worked. Money is made when a stock's price drops, but it never seemed
like a lot of money. After all, if a stock trades at 50 and then the
price falls to 40, all the short seller made was ten points. There's a
lot more room on the upside."
Kelly smiled at the question and explained, "You're numbers are correct,
Sandy, but you're overlooking something. Big money is made because the
deal involves massive leverage. Let's take a guy with $1,000 and your
example. If the guy bought the stock at 50 he would have 20 shares.
Selling at 40, he loses $10 a share, or $200. To keep it simple, I'm
ignoring transaction costs. Now take a short seller. What does he do?
First, he sells 1,000 shares at 50. But he doesn't have 1,000 shares; he
has none in the classic situation. What he does do is borrow the 1,000
shares to deliver against his sale, paying interest on the borrowed
shares. Now the stock price drops to 40. He buys 1,000 shares at 40
using the $40,000 of the $50,000 he got when he sold the 1,000 shares.
After returning the 1,000 shares he's just purchased to the owner of the
borrowed shares, he's made $10,000 less the interest expense that he
paid to borrow the shares in the first place. He's made a profit of
nearly $10,000, on virtually no investment. His ROI is enormous."
Looking at Sandy she asked, "Did you follow that?"
"I sure did," Sandy replied. "But what's a bear raid?"
"That occurs when an individual or a group starts selling lots of shares
in a company short, betting the price will fall. First of all, the mere
act of selling lots of shares serves to drive the price down, other
things being equal. But couple that with the expectation of bad news
about the company, and the share price can drop like a stone. Clearly,
that's what the bears expect," Kelly explained. "But guess what? Based
on what I just learned from you and Cliff, the raid is almost certain to
fail. And you know something else? I'm buying. Could I use a phone
outside, quick? Then I'll tell you more."
Kelly left the room, and Sandy looked at Cliff thoughtfully. "Now who do
you suppose would be doing that?" she said. "It bothers me - although
not for the usual reasons of ego. One of the finance department classics
is a bit of doggerel, 'He who sells what isn't his'n pays the price or
goes to prison.' It refers to short sellers. The bothersome thing is
there is so little float in the stock. There are only one million shares
out, and the family has more than 65 percent. It's a prescription for a
classic squeeze on the shorts. They borrow the shares they sell against
the prospect of a price decline. When the price drops, they buy the
shares in to replace the shares they borrowed from the original owners
at a lower price. However, what happens if the price rises - sharply?
The short- sellers get killed: They have to buy the shares at a higher
price, and lose their shirts! And I think that's what's about to happen
as a result of Kelly's report. Honey, would you humor me if I do
something dumb? Like losing a ton of money? It is mine, though."
He grinned at her and said, "Darling, I never mentioned it, but I bought
10,000 shares of Murphy Manufacturing before I even started work here at
prices that average about $22 a share. It represents just about every
dollar I have been able to beg, borrow, or steal. We've never talked
about money, but you must get a pretty nice income from your stock. Do
you, or does it go somewhere else?"
"Mostly it comes to me. You can see I don't spend a lot. And we've been
saving on entertainment by mostly spending weekends in bed! No, I'm
okay. Cliff, one thing. Would you please humor me and ask Bill to
beef-up security? I'm thinking of getting a big agency like Pinkerton to
send some plain-clothes people in. What do you think?" Before she even
finished, as soon as she mentioned the word security, Cliff was on the
phone.
"Bill, it's Cliff. Here's the story: Someone is selling our stock short,
and it's about to start moving up strongly. It's a classic situation for
industrial sabotage. See about getting a big security team in for the
next eight weeks. No, make it ten weeks. I want to be sure the extra
coverage extends past October 1. And Bill, I want it to start right now!
They may want a short-notice premium for a few days, but I don't care."
He hung up the phone. "Is that enough humoring for you? I think you're
absolutely right."
Kelly returned to the office with a big grin on her face. "I have a
question. Has either of you sold any stock?" They both shook their
heads. "How about buying?"
Sandy said, "Cliff bought 10,000 shares before he joined, and I have
been buying off and on for years. I don't remember when the last
transaction was. Is it important?"
"Not really. I just sent out a bulletin on the company, and on to
Dow-Jones for the broad tape. My prediction is for earnings higher than
last year's. Cliff, I took the liberty of using your name. I said you
had announced today that Murphy had been designated the first American
preferred supplier to Kaga Motors. The selection had been made on the
basis of quality of product. I know you didn't announce it before, but
technically you should have. Did you buy any stock, or did anyone else
in the company buy between the Kaga letter and today?
"Actually, I don't think it matters because the price has been slowly
drifting down. If they bought, they sure in hell didn't tell their
friends. Or else their friends are as financially naive as you two!" She
grinned broadly as she said the last words, but Cliff and Sandy were
both chagrined. They knew about insider trading, but it had never
occurred to them to make an announcement. Yet they both knew they should
have.
"I'm sorry, Kelly, and thanks a lot. For that matter, I guess we should
have announced the loss of the Magna business, too. That was certainly
material."
"It was, but don't worry. Ajax did that for you. Anyway, there's no harm
done. Incidental ly, I'm liquidating everything I own to go against the
short sellers. I can see a classic squeeze coming. There won't be any
shares to buy to cover their short position. I remember reading a case
in Financial Markets on a flooring company. In fact, I think it was
quite similar. Like Murphy, most of the stock was held by the family. I
think it started with the shares trading around $10. When the squeeze
hit, trading was suspended at about $25. When it reopened, it jumped to
about $60 in thirty minutes or so and was suspended again. At that
point, I think the two sides negotiated surrender terms. The shorts were
wiped out." She smiled. "I have always remembered that story. It always
seemed like a great way to make big money, so I'm going to try it with
you. Do you mind?"
Sandy looked at Kelly thoughtfully. "You are a registered rep, aren't
you? You can handle customer's accounts directly?"
Kelly nodded. "I sure am. I don't have many, though, but I am trying."
Sandy avoided Cliff's eyes. "Kelly, do me a favor? I propose to call my
bank and ask them to send you $2 million to open an account in my name.
Could you do that?"
Kelly's jaw dropped. "Sandy, you're saying you want to open an account
with me at Snyder Securities for *$2 million*! Cash?"
Sandy grinned. "My, you're a fast learner! That's exactly what I said.
Is that enough for an account with Snyder?"
"Enough? You're joking! Just a minute." She picked up the phone on
Cliff's desk and called her office and asked to speak to her manager.
She told him she was being given $2 million to open an account for
Sandra M. Donnell, the Murphy Machinery heiress. There was silence from
Kelly for a few minutes. Then she essentially repeated the story for
someone else. Finally, she spoke again, "I'll ask her, sir. I don't
think there's a problem. Just a minute." She turned to Sandy, "This is
Jack Snyder, the managing partner of Snyder Securities. He would like to
speak to you, if he may."
Kelly appeared very nervous as Sandy took the phone. "Hello, Mr. Snyder,
this is Sandra Donnell." She listened with a smile on her face for a few
moments, then said, "I only met Miss Cameron this afternoon, and I'm
absolutely delighted to have had the opportunity. I invest money from
time to time, and was most impressed with her knowl edge of our industry
and my company." Kelly and Cliff laughed at the face she made when she
said "my company." She continued, "Miss Cameron makes a great deal of
sense to me. I was prepared to wire money to you now, but I will be
happy to give her a check to bring back." There was a period of silence
while Snyder was talking. She ended by saying, "Thank you, Jack. I look
forward to meeting you in Chicago, soon."
She hung up the phone and looked at the others. "He welcomed me as a
customer of the firm." She rummaged through her purse, took out her
checkbook, wrote a check, and gave it to Kelly. The girl looked at it in
awe. "My God! Two million dollars! I sweat more than that writing a
check at the supermarket! Sandy, thank you! Now, who do I have to kill?"
"Kelly, there are only two strings: First, for now it's a treasury for
you to use to buy into the bears' selling. The market is still open. Can
we start right now? I don't want to move the price up. I just want to
keep it from going down. The buying will come from others, and we may
push it up to... what do you think? Thirty? Maybe thirty-five?"
Kelly just grinned and picked up the phone again. This time she asked
for the trading desk. "Bill, it's Kelly. I have a good one for you. Buy
Murphy Manufacturing on the Amex. We have two and a quarter million
dollars to use. At today's prices that's about 90,000 shares. Just push,
Bill. I don't want to see a down-tick. Regardless of the money you have
placed, stop buying at thirty-two if it gets that high. If it does, put
a buy in with the specialist for the balance of the money at thirty-two
coming down. Okay? I think we're going to have some fun. And Bill, this
is most important: Time-stamp the order right now! For you privately,
this is insider money. An announcement went out about thirty minutes ago
on the broad tape. It's essential that we are all covered on this.
Buying came *after* the public announcement. Bill, I'm in Milwaukee
imposing on some folks. Call me at this number if it starts to move, or
if anything interesting seems to be happening. In any event, call me
after the close and let me know what happened." She hung up the phone.
"Kelly," Sandy asked, "are you a beer drinker?"
"I sure am, but don't you have a bar?" She looked around. "No," she
answered her own question, "Not in this place. This is the home of
precision parts, and alcohol doesn't mix well with precision." Sandy
left the office, and Kelly followed her out. "Sandy, I have a favor to
ask? Could your secretary make a hotel reservation for me here in
Milwaukee for tonight?"
Sandy laughed, and picked up the phone. She made a reservation for that
night and guaranteed it to Murphy for late arrival. "Kelly, since you
know everything else, you ought to know I am Cliff's executive
assistant, otherwise known as his secretary. I would invite you to stay
with me but Cliff and I... Well, things get a little rowdy once in a
while."
"You're a very lucky girl, Sandra Donnell. I think you caught one of the
live ones." Kelly looked at Sandy carefully, then grimaced. "What a
stinking shame. I couldn't even give you a fight. My God! To have your
looks and money on top! It's just not fair." Then she grinned and added,
"On the other hand, maybe it's a good thing. You're a one-man woman, and
it's obvious he's a one-woman man. So he's out of action, but so are
you. I guess that's some consolation for a working girl. And besides,
you two are going to make me rich!" The two girls shook hands, and went
back to the office after Sandy made another call.
When they reentered the office and sat down, Cliff told Kelly about the
increased security. He grinned at her. "I might as well tell you about
it, since you're one of the family now. By the way, Sandy said two
million, and I heard you tell Bill two and a quarter. Where's the rest
of the money come from?"
Kelly blushed prettily. "That's mine. All I can say is that's every dime
I've got... and then a few. You two have a hell of a business going
here. There aren't too many oppor tunities in the Rust Belt."
A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Sandy brought back
another brown paper bag and opened three cans of beer. "Cheers!" she
said. "Kelly, this is twice today. The first time was just before you
came when we found out about the South American orders."
"Damn!" Kelly exclaimed, "I forgot to mention it earlier. I also added
in the announcement that 'other full-price orders' had been received
fully covering the lost Magna Motors business. Anyway - even though us
investment types aren't supposed to drink beer - cheers! You know," she
said with a grin, "I much prefer pizza and beer to white wine and Brie."
Sandy and Cliff looked at each other, made a thumbs up sign, and
laughed. They were still chatting when Cliff's private line rang. It was
the number Kelly had given her trader.
Cliff answered the phone and passed it to her. "Hi, Bill, what's up?"
She listened intently and nodded her head. She took out a pad and
started writing down numbers as a big grin started spreading across her
face. Finally she said, "Thanks, Bill. Keep me posted."
She hung up the phone and exclaimed, "Damn! It's moving. There's heavy
action, with a lot of selling. Bill thinks it's more short selling. It's
trading at twenty-seven now, up a point and a half. The important thing
is, other people are starting to buy, too. We're going to win this one.
I can feel it."
"What do we do now? Just wait?" Sandy asked.
"I guess so. Incidentally, you have invested about $200,000 at this
point, Sandy. Why don't we fill out these dumb forms I need to open an
account while we wait for the closing?" She took forms from her attaché
case, and Cliff went down the hall to Steve Muller's office.
Betty Ames gave him a big smile as he walked in. Cliff noticed how
beautiful and happy the woman was now that John Flood was gone. Steve
was on the phone. He waved and gave Cliff a big grin. "Yes, sir, I'm
sure he'd be happy to talk to you. In fact, he just walked into my
office." He put the phone on hold and said to Cliff, "It's Jack Crowther
of Magna. He said he just received a report on the broad tape - what's a
broad tape? - of our contract with Kaga. I told him it was true. He
wants to talk to you. Do you want to take it? Since I blew it by telling
him you're here, I guess you have to."
Cliff took the instrument, and Steve punched the line button. "Hi, Jack!
This is Cliff Fitzpatrick. What can we do for you?"
"I just saw on the Dow-Jones broad tape an announcement of your
selection as the first American prime supplier to Kaga in Michigan. Is
that true?"
"Yes, it is, Jack, I'm proud to say. We also developed a ring for them
that seems to be on its way to becoming their new world standard. Of
course, we get all the business on that we want and a royalty on the
rest."
"But, Cliff!" Jack said, "I shouldn't say this, but their quality
standards are light-years ahead of ours! And you *meet* them!?"
"No, Jack. We don't meet them, we exceed them! Based on information
faxed to us today, we are now the top-quality supplier to Kaga USA.
That, of course, is a field made up almost entirely of Japanese
suppliers. I am delighted to tell you we are entering discussions at
long distance about our ability to supply their domestic production. I
don't expect much, honestly, but it's an honor to be considered. Then,
of course, there is the very strong yen..."
Crowther had obviously been doing some fast thinking as Cliff spoke.
When Cliff finished he said, "How soon could you ship trial quantities
of rings and valves? I'm sure you still have the specs and everything."
"I'll have to check with our production people, Jack. How fast would you
like to have them, when, and where?"
Crowther responded quickly, "Cliff, could you call me tomorrow with
availability? I'll have the rest of the information for you then. And of
course, I will need a price quote."
"We will be happy to quote, Jack. What quantities?" Crowther told him
the quantities, and Steve saw Cliff's eyebrows raise. "Thanks, Jack.
I'll call you in the morning." Cliff hung up the phone. "Steve, the
*low* number he quoted for quantities was our old production number. The
high number is *triple*!" The two men cheered and started dancing around
the office. Betty came in to find out what had happened. When they told
her, she joined the dance. Bill picked up the phone to call Bill
Stevens. He asked Bill to get Max and join him in Steve's office.
Moments later the two men arrived. As Cliff told him what had happened,
Bill's eyes widened. When he told them the quantities, they both
cheered.
Cliff said to Max, "I would like you to use our handy portable PA
system, Max, and tell the guys what's happened. It's strictly your show.
Without the quality those guys have been turning out, it couldn't have
happened. Do you mind?"
"Mind? My God, this is the best news in weeks, and you want *me* to
announce it? Not you or Sandy?"
"No, Max. This is yours. Bill, how soon could we add machines to double
our capacity? And Max, I don't have to tell you this is a quality sell.
Our quality can't slip... not the tiniest bit. What about people?"
Max beamed. "That's not a problem. Guaranteed. When can the machines be
in?"
"Bill?" Cliff asked.
"I'll have to check with Micronics, but largely due to the way Sandy has
been handling things, they honest-to-God love us! I don't know how long
it will take, but I double-your- money-back guarantee you, no one - *no
one* - could get them faster. What about the trial order? How soon, and
how much?"
"I'll know tomorrow for sure, Bill. But you know Magna's trial
quantities. What do you think?"
Bill looked at Max and held up five fingers. Max nodded. "I can have
normal trial quantities in five days. The quality will blow them away.
They have never seen stuff as good as they will be getting."
"Okay, guys. It's a deal. Bill, did you speak to Max about security? He
and all the people need to know. Why don't you brief him, and he can add
it to his speech?"
Bill quickly reviewed the short selling of Murphy stock and the fear
that someone - about to lose a fortune - might stoop to industrial
sabotage to prevent Murphy from performing on its contracts. He ended by
saying, "Max, I think we have a real family here. The nice thing is
everyone pretty well knows everyone else. You and your people will be
alerted to the Pinkertons. You will know who they are. If anybody sees
*anyone* he doesn't recognize - whether he's acting suspicious or not -
we want the Pinkertons alerted."
Max laughed loudly. "What's that saying, 'Things that go around, come
around?' The irony is wonderful. Pinkerton really grew as a company of
strikebreakers one-hundred years ago or so. Now they are on our side. I
think it's great! But you know what? I'm afraid it is one only a few of
us old-timers will appreciate. Cliff, I'll do it! And, I don't need to
tell you this, but I will anyway. It's our company, too."
Cliff went back to his office. Checking his watch he found it was nearly
quitting time. Then he told the girls it was time to pack it in but
didn't tell them about the talk with Crowther at Magna. As usual, they
went out through the plant. His timing was perfect. Max was just about
to start his speech, and Sandy stopped to listen.
They heard Max tell about the test order from Magna. "We got it, folks!
We really got it! Now all we have to do is give them our usual product.
Those turkeys will freak out when they see the quality we routinely ship
to Kaga." He went on and ended by telling the workers about the chance
of sabotage. He finished by saying, "Remember, those clowns are out to
destroy *our jobs*! We know one another. You'll know the Pinkertons.
Anyone else - and I mean *anyone else* - tell the Pinks. Any questions?"
There were a few, but the thing Cliff noticed immediately was they
understood the threat to their jobs. The noises he heard were ugly. He
wouldn't want to be a person found trying to tamper with the machines.
They walked on out to the car, leaving Kelly's rental in the lot.
"Cliff," Sandy said sweetly, "You are a bastard. We hear we're back in
at Magna - at up to triple the old volume - from our union president,
for chrissakes! Just for that, you get the check tonight. We are
celebrating with dinner and dancing. Kevin O'Rourke is joining us. I may
- or may not - be speaking to you!"
Cliff just grinned and said nothing. They went to Kelly's hotel, and she
checked in. He smiled at Sandy while they waited for her to wash up.
Sandy tried to glare at him, but without great success. When Kelly
returned to the car, Sandy was in his arms. "Golly, folks," Kelly said.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
Sandy stretched broadly and gave Cliff another kiss. "Nope. He wasn't
very nice, so it's too early to go to bed with him. Are you all set? And
are we corrupting your morals?"
"Corrupting, no. Jealous, yes. Let's go. Who is Kevin, by the way?"
"Kevin O'Rourke is a delightful guy. Of course, you'll have to talk to
him in equations or hexadecimal language. I think that's what computers
speak, isn't it Cliff?" Sandy asked. "Anyway, it's something like that.
Maybe you can baffle him with some interesting regression equations on
earnings growth or something," she finished airily.
"Sandra Donnell, I thought I liked you, but now the real you comes out.
You are hateful! Just because you have captured a girl's dream is no
reason to rub it in. I'll have to think about it for a while, but I'm
pretty sure I am not speaking to you ever again. Or at least tonight. Or
at least until we get to where we're going," Kelly said with the grin
audible in her voice. When they arrived at another hotel, Kelly was
surprised. "Why am I not staying here?" she asked.
"Because I thought as a young professional woman you would be interested
in getting your rest. This place has rooms that are reputed to be noisy:
the guests running from room to room and that sort of thing," Sandy
replied.
"Now I *know* I hate you," Kelly said in a very flat voice. "You didn't
mention that my hotel serves tea to maiden ladies at four-thirty every
day. I missed it, by the way."
"Kelly, dear, I just wanted you to feel secure." Sandy replied.
Cliff was finding it was all he could do to try to keep a straight face
as they went to the main dining room where a combo was playing. From the
girls' banter, it was obvious they liked each other a great deal. Kevin
was sitting at the table waiting for them, and he rose as they
approached. Cliff heard Kelly say in a whisper to Sandy, "I don't care
if he only speaks Gaelic! My God, where has he been all my life?" It
hadn't occurred to Cliff that Kevin was also six feet three with
brilliant blue eyes and very dark hair.
Kevin was introduced to Kelly and it was obvious he liked her
immediately. "With a name like Kelly, there's got to be some Irish in
your family, Miss Cameron," he said.
Kelly smiled at him warmly. "My mother's maiden name was Kelly. Indeed
there is. I must get my interest in finance from my father who is a
Scot, as I am sure you guessed."
The combo was playing, and Sandy and Cliff got up to allow the other two
to become acquainted. Every time he held her in his arms on a dance
floor Cliff was dazzled. She just seemed to float. He whispered in her
ear, "A penny for your thoughts?"
"Darling, I am so happy, it's sinful. This was such a wonderful day!
First, the South American orders, then Kelly, then Magna, and finally
getting her together with Kevin. Would you care to bet they spend the
night together? Unless Kevin's fifty times dumber than I think he is, of
course. That girl is in love!" As she said it, she saw Kevin and Kelly
on the dance floor together. Because of the height difference, even with
high heels she scarcely reached above his chin. But the look on her face
was one of rapture. "Mr. Fitzpatrick, you didn't respond. Do you care to
lose some money? Ten dollars, perhaps?" She whispered up to his ear as
she felt herself floating around the dance floor.
"Sandra Donnell, you are impossible! My meager fortune is tied up in
this company, but you insist on having everything. If I end up working
nights as a gigolo, just remember: it's all your fault!" he replied.
They went back to the table and their drinks. Kelly and Kevin joined
them a few minutes later. Even Cliff, who was normally impervious to
such things, could see the stars in both of their eyes. Without saying
anything, he took out his wallet, folded up a ten-dollar bill and passed
in under the table to Sandy. She took it and quietly smiled at him.
"Thank you, dear," she whispered.
It was obvious Kelly had explained the short sale and its implications
to Kevin. Cliff looked at the young analyst and said, "I assume that
news of the Magna work will really cause problems for the short sellers.
Am I right?"
"You certainly are," Kelly replied. "In the vernacular, they're in deep
shit! As usual, the rule of the day is 'bulls make money, and bears make
money, and pigs get slaughtered!' Nevertheless, I'm sorry we didn't buy
even more than we did. By the way, Sandy, with all that garbage we were
fooling with this afternoon, I forgot a basic question. I have been
assuming you want the stock you buy in street name, that is, the
registered owner will be Snyder Securities?"
Sandy let out a little yelp. "Good grief, yes! Absolutely! I have a
feeling... Cliff, if I had to bet money, I would bet it's Ezra Stiles
who's behind all this. Incidentally, Kelly, I will make arrangements to
transfer all my holdings at the other broker to you tomorrow. There's
just one thing: On September 30, I'll need something very official from
Snyder Securities saying I am the beneficial owner of X–thousand shares
of Murphy Manufac turing."
"Sandy, I have a question," Kevin asked. "How big a percentage of the
company are you going to inherit?"
"About 66 percent. Why?" she answered.
"What's the percentage to change the bylaws of the corporation? To call
a special election, or to change the term of directors?" Kevin
continued.
"I can answer that!" Cliff interjected. "Before I became... familiar...
with Sandy I read that stuff. It's two-thirds."
"That's sixty-six and two-thirds," Kelly said, excited now. "Sandy, you
said you bought stock off and on in the past. How much do you have?"
"I'm not sure. About seventy- or eighty-thousand shares. Something
between seventy and eighty, I'm sure. Why?"
"Bingo! We've won already," Kelly said elatedly, "And those turkeys
don't know it. Your other shares are in street name, Sandy?" she asked.
"Yes, but I don't understand... Oh, yes I do! If it's only 70,000 shares
- and I'm sure it's more - that's seven percentage points! Along with
the family's sixty-six, that's 73 percent! My God! Cliff, you will
support me, won't you?"
"Only if you give me my ten bucks back," he replied loftily.
She reached in her purse and took out his ten-dollar bill and handed it
to him. It was all she could do to keep from laughing. Nevertheless,
Cliff kept a straight face. "Since you asked so nicely, the answer is
yes."
Kelly looked puzzled. "What is the ten dollars for?" she asked.
"Oh... nothing!" they replied together. Then they started laughing.
Their laughter grew in intensity to the point they ended hugging each
other to keep from falling off their chairs. Kelly and Kevin looked at
each other and then looked at the other two. They didn't understand a
thing.
Sandy regained control and said, "So it's over?"
"I really think so," Kelly replied. "What I heard from Cliff is your
attorney, Stiles, may be trying to pull a fast one. Didn't I hear
something about Cliff having performance targets to reach?"
"You sure did... or at least, you could have. They exist, and it doesn't
look like there is a snowball's chance in hell of reaching them.
Although the way things are going, we might reach them a couple of
months after the deadline. But why do you ask?"
"Cliff, as a schemer, you're a great business strategist," Kelly
replied. "Let's say I'm shorting the stock. It starts to rise on the
basis of a complete operations turnaround. Then the word gets out that
the guy who made it all happen is out and some of the turkeys who caused
the problems in the first place are back in. What does the stock do?"
"Yeah, I know: three guesses, and the first two don't count. It goes in
the tank. But what can we do?" he asked.
Kelly smiled at Cliff affectionately. "It's a damn good thing you are
going to have a very smart wife. Just remember to do what she tells you.
Cliff, with 70 percent of the stock, you can do anything! For example,
you can call a special meeting of stockholders to elect all the
directors. Does Murphy have staggered terms for directors, by the way?"
"Yes," Cliff answered, "it does. As a matter of fact, it's over a
four-year span. Only 25 percent of the board is up for election each
year. In fact, the numbers are two, one, two, and two."
"We're there! That's it, I'm sure. Sandy, even if you wanted to use the
family shares to throw out the Board, it would take four years to do it,
and three years to get a simple majority. *But* with 70 percent, you're
there!"
"Of course!" Sandy picked up, "I can call a special meeting of the Board
to consider bylaw revisions, and use my 70 percent to waive notice of
the meeting. I then use it to amend the bylaws to have all directors
serve one-year terms. Then I call for a special election of directors,
and replace them all!"
Kelly stuck out her hand. "I love a smart woman! Damn it, Sandy, this
smells right! One more thing: Do you know how a corner on a stock works?
Or should?"
Sandy's face fell. "I have no idea. How does it work?"
"Let's look at the Murphy situation because the numbers are so easy:
First, let's say you own 78 percent of the stock - that's 780,000
shares. Now, there are two kinds of shorts: The first are the ones who
sold Murphy, rented stock from an owner - usually an institution or a
brokerage firm - and delivered the rented stock to the buyer. He must
replace the borrowed stock. The second type is what it looks like we're
seeing now. These are people who put in sell orders assuming they can
borrow shares to deliver. But we are already pretty sure that the total
number of shares sold exceeds the total number of shares outside the
family holdings. Murphy will almost certainly be in that position in a
day or so if things don't change. They can't deliver. It's numerically
impossible!
"Now here's where the fun begins. It's really the same in both cases.
The short seller must deliver shares to the buyer or to the owner from
whom they were borrowed *or the value of the shares*. We have some free
shares - more than you need for your control positions. We can sell
those shares *at any price*. And the price at which we sell becomes the
market. We have the only shares available to anyone at any price. The
price we set becomes the settlement price for those who need to settle
their positions in cash.
"Sandy, you *never* sell your stock to the shorts. You ransom their
position. In other words, instead of selling them enough stock to cover
their position, you get a huge price from them to repay their lenders.
The important thing is to *never* let the shorts actually get their
hands on the shares. They must go from you to the lender: the one who
loaned shares to the short to deliver against his original sale.
Understand?"
"Of course! If the short has the shares, for even a couple of hours, he
can use them for their votes. And what you're saying, Kelly, is a burned
lender is unlikely to make the shares available to the same person
again. Right?"
"Absolutely!"
--
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