The sole woman on the committee, Barbara Clemmons from New Hampshire, piped up then. “Isn’t it true that you approached the SEC after you were let go from your position at the firm?”
Again, I glanced at Mr. Dryer. He leaned over and whispered, “Tell the truth. They’re going to try and say you did all of this for revenge, and without the memos, it doesn’t look good. Just do the best you can.”
Do the best I could? Oh, Lord. Turning back to face the row of senators, I said, “Mr. Jaworski told me, if I was determined to take my suspicions to the SEC, he’d fire me. In light of what I found, I didn’t see I had any choice.”
“If you’re so certain this was a conspiracy, where’s the evidence?”
Time for some major ass-covering. I mentally slipped into my iron underwear. “The Marvel executives sold every share of Marvel stock they were legally allowed to sell the day I took my findings to the SEC, and at the same time, put a freeze on the employees and wouldn’t allow any of the retirement fund Marvel stock to be sold. Then they announced an adjustment to earnings and the stock price fell by fifty percent.”
“All that proves is the Marvel executives were running scared because they knew you were opening the company up for an SEC investigation. There’s no law against someone looking out for their own interests. Perhaps they froze the retirement fund to avoid a further drop in the price, which would protect the investors. As for the earnings adjustment, they no doubt wanted to set the record straight in their own way, rather than allow for the perception of wrongdoing among their shareholders.”
Un-freaking-believable. She was painting the execs at Marvel as the wounded party in all this. They’d lied, cheated and ripped off the investors by selling out before the stock price tanked. But Barbara Clemmons had the nerve to insinuate that I was Chicken Little, causing a panic when clearly, it was all just a big misunderstanding.
She said in a tone now almost hostile, “I was given to understand we would see evidence at today’s hearing. Instead, all you have are theories.” The other senators nodded agreement, looking annoyed. Except Santorelli.
He was frowning at Ms. Clemmons, but she didn’t appear to notice. Instead, she was frowning at me, as though I was the bad guy in all of this. Dammit! If only I had the freakin’ memos. Time to lay out The Big Confession. “Almost two weeks ago, I obtained copies of several memos between Lowell Jaworski and the CEO and CFO at Marvel. They prove the complicated partnership scheme was designed for the express purpose of hiding debt and losses that would affect Marvel’s bottom line, and therefore the price of their stock. The memos also prove that the firm agreed to look the other way in exchange for very lucrative consulting work.”
“The SEC informed us of the alleged memos,” she said, her middle-aged, jowly face set in stern disapproval, “but where are these memos? Why didn’t you turn what you had over to the SEC investigator?”
Okay, this was it. The moment I’d dreaded since the instant I realized I no longer had my ace in the hole. “The memos were scanned and saved onto several disks, one of which I stored in a safe deposit box at my bank, some I hid in my home and one was earmarked to be taken to the SEC. Before I could get the disk to the SEC, it was stolen, along with all but one of the hidden copies. The disk in the lockbox was accidentally taken by my ex-husband.” Who still had a key because I was so busy working my ass off, I didn’t think to have it changed. Because the only things in the damn box were our marriage license—yeah, like I wanted to keep that safe—and my mother’s will. Because I forgot George even had a key. Huge mistake on my part. I was convinced someone had paid George big bucks to swipe the disk, but I wasn’t going to say that. I already looked like a fringe lunatic, paranoid and grasping at conspiracy theories. No way I wanted to get into it about George.
“Did you contact the police about the theft?”
“Yes, but they weren’t able to reach any conclusion as to who might have broken into my home.” So much for the boys in blue upholding the law. They’d acted as though they’d like to arrest me for being such a pain in their ass. Floppy disks didn’t register on their radar as any consequence. That the disks represented all that stood between me and very hot water never seemed to register. They’d taken a report and I hadn’t heard from them since. “I thought I’d be able to retrieve the memos before today’s hearing. Regrettably, I could not.”
“So,” she said a bit smugly, “there will never be any evidence to prove your claim. Is that right?”
“Respectfully, no, that is not right. There is one disk remaining, but I don’t have access to it.”
Santorelli spoke before Clemmons could ask another snarky question. “Where is it?”
I panicked, and Mr. Dryer leaned close. “You have to tell them.” He raised one graying brow, reminding me of my father. This wasn’t a good thing.
Taking a deep breath, I looked at Santorelli. “Inside a box that was taken by someone who misunderstood which box I intended to get rid of.”
“The solution seems simple, Ms. Pearl. Get the box back.”
“I can’t get the box back because it was sold.” In a garage sale, by my aunt Fred, who’s the Garage Sale Queen, always hunting for inventory. But no way I was telling the senator, or anyone else. Someone had taken five of my copies, and I was determined to hang on to the sixth. It held everything the justice department needed to charge the Marvel Energy executives and the partners of my ex-employer CPA firm with felony counts of fraud, gross negligence and perjury.
The only people who knew where the box was now located were me, Aunt Fred and my third grade teacher, who’d bought the box. Me and Aunt Fred weren’t talking, and Mrs. Bohannon was currently rolling across the Serengeti in the back of a Land Rover, shooting pictures of giraffes, completely unaware she had the key to my fate stored in one of her closets. “I can retrieve the disk within three weeks, as soon as the person who bought the box returns from out of the country.”
Santorelli glanced at his fellow senators, then leveled a look at me. “I assume no one purchased an empty box, Ms. Pearl. What was in the box?”
A sharp look at Mr. Dryer. He only nodded, and his already thin lips completely disappeared. We’d been all through the box issue. If I lied, if I said something was in the box, other than what really was in the box, it could harm my credibility if the investigation ended with criminal charges against Marvel Energy. It didn’t seem reasonable that anyone would ever be the wiser, but Mr. Dryer assured me they had ways of finding these things out. Not wanting to arm the Marvel defense team with any ammunition, I decided to tell the truth, even if it meant laying my pride at the feet of the senate finance committee—and the rest of the United States. At least, the ones who watched C-SPAN. I looked straight at the senator and said clearly, “Mister Bob.”
“Mister Bob?”
“A blow-up doll.”
The army of press congregated behind me, along with a smorgasbord of others, including the head honcho of the SEC, chuckled and guffawed. The senators all smiled. All except Barbara. I tried to save face. “It was a gag gift, given to me on my thirtieth birthday.”
Santorelli stopped grinning, barely, and said in a pseudo-forceful tone, “I believe we’ve covered everything, Ms. Pearl. Thank you again for coming forward and we’d like to reconvene this hearing when you have the memo copies in hand.”
“Yes, sir. I will be here.”
He leaned forward a bit, his dark eyes trained on mine as though he really wanted me to get what he was about to say. “Ms. Pearl, it takes a lot of courage for a person to do the right thing, then suffer the consequences as you have. However, I must advise you of the precarious position you’re in. Although this was the first year you were in charge of the Marvel audit, you were involved with the