"Bruce Holland Rogers - An Eye For Acquisitions" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rogers Bruce Holland)

bundle that looked like animal fur.
 Siegel had the dry heaves there in the empty hallway.
"Was that in the chocolate?" Vriner said, looking at the glistening hair.
"Must have been," said the investment banker, getting his breath. "You might be buying yourself a huge
consumer product liability suit, Leonard, if that's a standard ingredient." Siegel retched again and spit into
his handkerchief.
"Maybe that's Moscarón's idea of a takeover defense," Vriner said with a smile. "Nauseate the
opposition."
"You still want to buy a company that makes chocolate with hair in it?"
"I want a deal, Aaron. I'm hungry for a deal."
"No one's selling," Siegel reported over the phone a week after the offer had been tendered.
"Aaron," said Vriner, reclining behind his desk, "we're bidding five dollars above the last trade."
"Yeah, but that last trade was a week ago. There's no movement. I can't even get anyone to report an
asking price. It's as if we've already bought up all the shares that are going to be sold." "Out of ten
thousand shareholders spread out all over the world, out of all these penny-ante owners, you can't
squeeze even a handful of shares?"
"Can't squeeze one share. It's like the word is out that the stock will be worth a million a share
tomorrow, you know?"
"No, I don't know. This doesn't happen. People get greedy."
"I can't figure it, either, Leonard, but I'm getting bids to buy back your stake at a little bit under what
you paid for it. I think maybe it's time to cut your losses and run."
"I don't run."
"Well, maybe you do this time, if you're smart. Your own stock is trading at record volume. There may
be a move afoot to cut your feet out from under you."
Vriner sat up. "Moscarón?"
"I'm having Erlich & Bahr look into it. So far, the orders are spread between a dozen street names, so
if it's one buyer, he's doing a hell of a job of disguising himself."
"I didn't think the old boy had it in him," Vriner said, grinning, relishing a fight.
"Don't take this lightly," Siegel said. "You're heavily defended, but there's a lot of capital moving your
shares. If this is Moscarón, he has heavy hitters backing him."
"I'm going to put Logan Edwards on this. He can do a background check on Moscarón, and I'll have
him check out some of the shareholders, too."
"That's going to get into some money. Ninety percent of the shareholders are overseas."
"I don't care. I want to know who these people are. What's their compelling interest in maintaining
control? With a little insight, Aaron, we can still break this open."
"You're the boss, Leonard. Listen, though. I'm going to orchestrate this from bed for a day or two. I
don't feel so hot. Touch of flu, maybe."
"I need you on this, Aaron."
"Have I ever let you down?"
In wing tips, a business suit and neck tie, Logan Edwards didn't look much like a gumshoe. On the
other hand, he wasn't the usual sort of private investigator.
"I've pushed it hard," Edwards said, looking from Vriner to Siegel. "I've got six of my best people
digging full-time into Moscarón, and we can't get much. I can tell you that he's been in New York for ten
years, has been CEO of WWWSS since incorporation, and was in Gallup, New Mexico, before that.
But I've had a hell of a time finding anyone who knew him, and those who did know him won't talk at any
price. They're spooked, I think." Then to Siegel, Edwards said, "You don't look so good."
"No," Siegel said, blinking his red-rimmed eyes. "I don't feel so hot, either."
Vriner wanted to stay with business. "Mob connections?"
"Could be," Edwards said, "but I doubt it. There's not enough in Gallup to get the attention of
organized crime."