A Family Divided Read online

  “I’ll expect a copy of the letter on my desk by close of business today!” Hartwig shouted as he disconnected the call.

  Never a pleasant goodbye from him.

  Chapter 9.

  Across town, in an office not as extravagant as Louis Hartwig’s, Curt Jennings smiled as he read the same Pacific Business Journal article, embracing satisfaction knowing others questioned the ethics of Hartwig’s conduct. He embraced an almost obsessive hatred of the man and an unwavering resolve to destroy him and his company. But he vowed to do so without lowering himself to his adversary’s unethical methods.

  Hartwig’s corporate espionage campaign against Jennco had a long history.

  Curt invented a sensor twelve years before that synchronized a passenger vehicle’s antilock brakes with a trailer’s preventing fishtailing in a sudden stop. Louis Hartwig, at the time Pacific Coast Industries’ vice president of operations, convinced him PCI did extensive market research on a similar product under development but abandoned it when the projections were not profitable. Curt was suspicious how he had learned of the sensor under development, but dismissed the thoughts.

  Hartwig offered Curt twenty-five thousand dollars for exclusive rights to the invention, ostensibly to protect PCI’s future patent rights. With his company struggling to even meet payroll, Curt reluctantly accepted the offer.

  When he discovered his invention made millions for Pacific Coast Industries and launched Hartwig’s career he sued for royalties. He argued Hartwig’s misrepresentation of market research data was fraudulent.

  Curt lost the case, and his legal fees exceeded the twenty-five thousand dollars Hartwig paid him.

  And he suspected Hartwig had continued his aggressive methods to infiltrate Jennco’s research and development.

  Curt instilled a teamwork approach to new product development, and Jennco’s product development committee was open to any new idea or suggestion. The committee included employees from all experience levels, including entry level engineers, the intent to avoid a but we’ve always done it that way mentality.

  But history revealed the committee was vulnerable to corporate espionage.

  * * *

  Less than a year before, PCI released an automotive sensor identical to one under development by Jennco. Convinced PCI stole Jennco’s design, Curt retained a well-respected intellectual property law firm to sue PCI for misappropriating trade secrets. The firm’s top litigation attorney convinced him there was not enough hard evidence to prevail in a lawsuit, and failure would be expensive, both in legal fees and company reputation. As much as he hated to do so, his only choice was to re-engineer Jennco’s sensor to not infringe PCI’s patent pending design.

  The design PCI stole from Jennco.

  During the redesign process Curt’s paranoia of Hartwig’s continued corporate espionage pushed him to take measures to expose it. At a product development committee meeting he presented fabricated test results suggesting condensation adversely affected the sensor’s calibration and adding an additional washer to the calibration access portal corrected the problem.

  Three days later PCI released a technical bulletin recommending addition of a second washer to its sensor’s calibration access portal.

  A news report citing the technical bulletin, questioning the company’s release of a sensor with such an obvious defect and suggesting an inadequate quality assurance program, caused Pacific Coast Industries’ stock price to fall almost ten percent. The next day Curt had a courier deliver Hartwig a handwritten note on Jennco letterhead with a copy of the article attached.

  Louis,

  Looks like your stock options are a little less valuable. Shouldn’t believe everything your mole learns in my product development committee meetings. Additional washer required in calibration access portal?

  Just kidding….

  Our sensor works fine with just one.

  Regards, Curt

  That evening Curt rewarded the article’s author, his best friend since grade school, with the steak dinner he promised when he suggested PCI’s quality assurance shortcomings might be a good subject for his next column. He cited the hastily issued technical bulletin as an example and shared in confidence the false intel he used to trick Hartwig to issue the bulletin.

  The article’s adverse impact on his competitive adversary was worth the excessive tab at Ventura’s most expensive steak house. As were the laughs they shared at Hartwig’s expense.

  The next day Curt called a special product development committee meeting. As each committee member entered the room, he greeted them and handed them a copy of the article. When they were all seated, he addressed the group.

  “I have a funny story for you all. Remember when I shared the quality assurance report recommending a second washer in our sensor’s calibration access portal?”

  A communal nod answered his question.

  “Well…, that was false intel. And you know why? I suspected Hartwig has a mole on this committee privy to our proprietary discussions. And this article only confirms my suspicions were correct.”

  He paused as a communal gasp of disbelief erupted from the committee.

  “I’m passing around a sign-up sheet to schedule a polygraph exam. Continued membership on this committee, and employment with my company, is contingent upon successful completion of the exam.”

  * * *

  Marisa Smith, a new committee member, selected the last available appointment. When she skipped the exam, a search of her cubicle found it empty, and her computer hard drive scrubbed clean. Upon hearing the mole left the company, Curt chose not to pursue the matter further, satisfied his message was received. He hoped Louis Hartwig’s corporate espionage assaults were over.

  But as he would soon find out, it only provoked Hartwig to escalate his efforts to the next level.

  Chapter 10.

  “Hey boss. You wanted to see us?” Eric Rogers said, standing in the doorway next to Adam Ritter. Eric was Jennco’s vice president of research and development and one of Curt’s most trusted colleagues. The two of them had worked on enhancing a cab roof mounted long-range laser sensor under development for the autonomous long-haul truck market. Adam, lead engineer in the research and development lab, was director of quality assurance.

  “Come on in guys. And can you shut the door behind you?”

  “What’s with the secret agent stuff?” Eric said as they sat at the conference table in the corner of Curt’s office. Curt had long maintained an open door policy and rarely met behind closed doors.

  “Adam just forwarded me the latest diagnostics on the long-range sensor, which is why I asked him to join us. Adam, care to fill us in?”

  “Sure,” Adam said as he opened the file he had set on the table and pulled out three copies of the results. “Diagnostics on the prototype still indicate a problem. Something is causing the sensor to reverse every one hundred fourteenth reading, signaling to accelerate when it should send a command to brake. In a vast majority of the diagnostics, the next signal corrected the problem and compensated with the correct message. But I can’t say with certainty the correction will always occur.”

  “Damn it,” Eric said, pounding his open palm on the table. “I thought we had that problem solved.”

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Adam said. “Sorry I’m messing with your work. I wanted to be sure, so I ran the diagnostics three times with consistent results.”

  The tension between Eric and Adam was just under the surface in every meeting they attended. They had each applied for the vice president of research and development position. Though both men were equally qualified, Curt chose to promote Eric.

  Adam still fumed at the decision.

  “What do we do next?” Eric asked Curt.

  “Aren’t you due for the sabbatical you’ve always wanted Eric?” Curt replied.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You remember, your plan to take six months off to build solar power sys
tems in underdeveloped third world countries.”

  Eric reached forward, grabbed Curt’s coffee cup and sniffed its contents.

  “What are you doing?” Curt asked, perplexed.

  “Checking to see what you’ve spiked your coffee with, because I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Adam laughed at the attempt at humor while Curt remained serious, concerned the product he hoped would make his company millions was being delayed yet again.

  “Sorry old friend,” Curt said. “I was pulling your leg. But would you buy into the story if I sell it to the rest of the company?”

  “What’s spinning around in that unpredictable head of yours?”

  “I’m convinced our sensor can move us to the forefront of the autonomous long-haul truck component market. And Adam, as the committee chair don’t take this wrong. I know we have a lot of brilliant talent on your product development committee, and working together we could solve the problem, but I’m pulling further R&D from the committee.”

  “Come on Curt,” Adam said. “We can still add value to the process.”

  As Curt expected, this new development blindsided him.

  “I know,” Curt continued, “but while I have no hard evidence to support this, I think Hartwig has another mole on the committee. I pay our engineers well above market rate, but some of these young guys have no loyalty, and would do anything if the price is right.”

  “What proof do you have?” Adam asked defensively. He was at risk of getting shut out of developing the most important product in the company’s history.

  “I don’t have proof, it’s just a hunch.”

  “So, are you suggesting I take the design work off-line to protect against Hartwig’s mole?” Eric queried.

  “I need to do whatever I can to keep Hartwig from getting his hands on this sensor design. For once I want to beat him to the market and rub his nose in it the first chance I get.”

  “You know, I’ve got my cabin in the Oregon woods. I could work there, and nobody would be the wiser.”

  “And I can work at home and drive up on weekends to compare our progress.”

  “Works for me.”

  Ritter listened to the conversation without comment, his facial expression one of defeat and disbelief.

  “Good. And listen guys, the only way this can work is if we keep it between the three of us. I trust both of you, but I can’t be sure about anybody else. We can’t let anyone know of our deceit, I don’t care who it is.”

  “Excuse me guys,” Adam said as he stood. “My committee meeting starts in ten minutes and I have to check a few things before we begin.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you at the meeting,” Curt said as Adam left the office, shutting the door behind him. He returned his attention to Eric.

  “I hope I didn’t piss him off by taking the R&D from his committee.”

  “He’ll get over it.”

  “I sure hope so. Email me the current schematic and R&D files to make sure we’re starting at the same place. But we’ll work old school, you know, everything on your computer in local mode, printed hard copies for discussion meetings, computer files stored on external hard drives.”

  “And no cloud storage a hacker might get his hands on.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, works for me. I miss old school,” Eric said, checking his watch. “We’d better go, the product development committee meeting starts soon.”

  “Yeah. And just between you and me, I’ve prepared a bogus cost benefit analysis concluding current market demand doesn’t justify additional R&D expense. I’ll tell the committee we’re putting the new sensor on hold pending additional market research, and in the meantime you’re taking a long-awaited sabbatical.”

  * * *

  As the committee meeting adjourned all the members but one returned to their cubicles with new marching orders. One member used the excuse of needing a smoke to walk out to the employee parking lot. Instead of a pack of Marlboros he reached in his pocket and pulled out a cheap, prepaid cell phone. After five minutes on hold he heard a harsh voice.

  “I’m busy, what do you want?”

  “We were getting close on the sensor, but Jennings pulled further R&D from the committee, some bullshit about reassessing the marketplace. He shared a quick PowerPoint cost benefit analysis but didn’t distribute a copy, so I can’t tell for sure if he’s bullshitting us. But Eric Rogers, the project’s lead engineer, is taking a six-month sabbatical to do some missionary work in Africa. I’m sure he wouldn’t leave if the project was still active.”

  He nodded a few times as he listened.

  “Okay, I’ll keep digging, see what I can find.”

  * * *

  After disconnecting the call, Louis Hartwig turned to Scott Jorgensen who had listened to the conversation. Everything Hartwig’s mole had just told him was old news as the sophisticated listening device installed in Jennco’s conference room broadcast the entire meeting in Hartwig’s office.

  “I need you to do a little surveillance, keep an eye on Eric Rogers. Make sure he goes to Africa.”

  Chapter 11.

  “Hey Dad, how was your honeymoon?” Brent asked as he and Curt met at Constantine’s, a Greenwich Village bistro Curt always visited when he was in New York City. At Laura’s request, he had invited Brent to lunch, hoping to smooth over their sometimes rocky relationship. She didn’t want their marriage to further alienate any of his children.

  “It was wonderful, how could Antigua be anything else? But now it’s back to work.”

  “Thanks, Cathy,” Brent said to the server as she set their ice teas on the table. “So Dad, what brings you to New York?”

  “We’re in discussions with a German company to distribute our products in Europe. We tired of phone and video conferences so agreed to meet in person for a change.”

  “That’s great,” Brent said. “You remember I took German in high school.”

  Curt laughed and said “I don’t think I’ll need an interpreter, Diedrich speaks better English than most of my business partners.”

  They both laughed, then paused as their server approached to deliver their lunch.

  “Thanks again, Cathy,” Brent said.

  “I want to revisit what we talked about at the wedding,” Curt continued.

  Brent smiled, confident a job offer was forthcoming, despite their frosty conversation on the subject at the wedding. Unwarranted optimism or not, he had given Wolfowitz and Lange his notice and sublet his upper east side loft.

  “I’m creating a new management element our company is missing,” Curt continued. “The position is manager of strategic planning, and your consulting experience would be an excellent fit.”

  “That sounds fantastic,” Brent said with sincere enthusiasm. “When can I start?”

  “As soon as you can put your New York affairs in order and move to California.”

  “Wow, thanks Dad. I'll be home in two weeks.”

  * * *

  “Brent!” he heard as he walked into the front door of O’Reilly’s Pub, a favorite watering hole from his youth in California. After a moment to let his eyes adjust from the bright afternoon sunshine to the dark barroom he walked back to the corner booth where his friends had gathered. He had reached out to his high school buddies on Facebook he was moving back to California, and they found a date to get together. Several had joined him at Stanford, but none had seen Brent since their five-year high school class reunion.

  They had all come home to Ventura from college on summer breaks and spent many evenings together in O’Reilly’s. One of their classmate’s uncle owned the bar and looked the other way as the underage college buddies drank pitchers of beer in his establishment.

  Sean Collins, Brent’s tennis partner in high school, was one of those greeting him at O’Reilly’s. As the crowd thinned, they were the only two left in the booth.

  “Ready to call it a night?” Brent asked.

  “No, I’m
meeting my cousin in a few minutes. She moved back home to Ventura this week.”

  “Where did she move from?”

  “New York City. Courtney was a ballerina with the New York City Ballet, and close to earning a featured role when she blew her ACL, ending her career. Her dad, my mom’s brother, was a world class professional surfer in the eighties. Lance Wallace, you might have heard of him.”

  “Yeah, the name sounds familiar.”

  “He bought a cool shack on the beach just north of Ventura when he was in his prime and making decent prize money. Courtney’s staying with him until she figures out what to do next.”

  “Do you mind if I stick around and meet her? I’d love to chat about New York, see if we had anything in common when we lived there.”

  “Not at all, I’m sure she’d like to meet you. She has no social life in Ventura, most of her friends moved to the east coast.”

  Brent paused as the front door opened and a stunning woman walked into O’Reilly’s. After a moment to let her eyes adjust from the bright afternoon sunshine, she looked around the room.

  “Hey Sean,” she said as she walked toward them.

  They both stood to greet Courtney as she joined them. The cousins shared a tight hug before the three sat in the booth.

  “Courtney, this is my friend Brent Jennings, we were tennis partners in high school.”

  Brent paused for a moment, mesmerized by her beauty. She had short, strawberry blonde hair and her creamy complexion was dotted with freckles that did not distract from her beauty but enhanced it. Her bright green eyes sparkled as she said “Hi Brent, nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Can I get you a drink cuz?” Sean said as he stood. “This fine establishment has no wait staff.”

  “Sure, I’d love a light beer.”

  “Brent?”

  “Sure, I’ll have another beer.”

  “Sean tells me you lived in New York City,” Brent said as Sean left to go to the bar. “I’ve lived there the last ten years.”