Bennett opened the folder.
"Maintenance costs have been shifted off balance sheet."
He turned a page.
"Liabilities associated with the Denver plant have been excluded."
Another page.
"And approximately two thousand employees are scheduled to lose their jobs within six months."
Sloan stared at the document.
"That's impossible."
Bennett looked at her.
"Is it?"
She picked up the report.
The numbers were familiar.
Too familiar.
These were the same reports Reed had given her.
"This can't be right."
"It is."
Reed stepped forward.
"These are preliminary projections."
"No," Bennett said. "They're concealed projections."
The room became tense.
Graham sat down.
"Explain."
Bennett did.
Slowly.
Clearly.
He showed the board how certain expenses had been moved between divisions to make the Denver facility appear profitable.
He showed them how layoffs had been buried inside "operational modernization."
And he showed them a planned closure of the plant that had never appeared in the merger presentation.
Sloan felt her confidence collapsing.
"Why didn't I see this?"
Bennett looked at her.
"That's a question you need to answer."
Reed interrupted.
"This is a hostile attempt to derail the merger."
Bennett closed the folder.
"I request a seventy-two-hour delay."
"For what?"
"An operational review of Denver."
Reed objected.
Graham overruled him.
"Approved."
Sloan followed Bennett into the hallway.
"You embarrassed me."
He stopped.
"I did?"
"You knew who I was last night."
"I knew your name."
"You knew my father."
"Yes."
"You knew about the company."
"Yes."
"And you let me—"
"Let you what?"
She couldn't finish.
Bennett looked at her quietly.
"You made your assumptions without my help."
Sloan clenched her jaw.
"Are you punishing me?"
"No."
"Then why do this now?"
"Because the company needs it."
"And the dinner?"
"Was dinner."
He walked away.
Sloan stood in the hallway.
For the first time, she wondered whether the man she had dismissed so easily had understood her better than she understood herself.
What the Numbers Didn't Say
The Denver plant was nothing like the headquarters.
There were no marble floors.
No crystal.
No expensive suits.
There were steel beams, machinery, noise, oil, heat, and hundreds of people who knew exactly what their work was worth.
Bennett walked through the facility wearing standard protective equipment.
He didn't ask for a private tour.
He went straight to the production floor.
"Marshall."
An older man turned.
Then smiled.
"Well, I'll be damned."
Bennett shook his hand.
"How's your knee?"
"Still attached."
"Doctor approve the second surgery?"
"Not yet."
Bennett nodded.
"Let me know when they do."
Sloan watched.
"You know everyone."
"Not everyone."
"Almost."
"I spent six months here."
"When?"
"Eight years ago."
Marshall laughed.
"You spent more than six months."
Bennett smiled.
"All right. Nearly seven."
Sloan looked around.
The workers greeted him naturally.
Not because he was wealthy.
Not because they feared him.
Because they remembered him.
That realization hurt more than she expected.
Marshall led them toward the maintenance area.
"Show her."
"Show me what?"
He opened a cabinet.
Inside were dozens of maintenance requests.
All unresolved.
"This temperature control system has been malfunctioning for three weeks."
Sloan frowned.
"Why hasn't it been repaired?"
"Finance denied the request."
"Why?"
Marshall looked at her.
"Ask Reed."
Sloan opened her tablet.
The system showed the equipment as fully operational.
She stared.
"That's impossible."
Marshall pointed toward the machine.
"It isn't."
Sloan compared the digital report with the physical equipment.
The discrepancy was enormous.
Bennett said nothing.
He simply watched her.
She began checking other stations.
One report.
Then another.
Then another.
The efficiency rate reported to headquarters was ninety-six percent.
The actual rate was nowhere near that.
Sloan's hands began to shake.
"Reed lied."
Bennett didn't answer.
She kept looking.
"How many workers?"
"About 1,900," Marshall said.
"How many are scheduled for training?"
"Nearly all."
"For what?"
Marshall hesitated.
"Replacement workers."
Sloan froze.
"Replacement?"
"They told us it was expansion."
She searched the internal documents.
A training authorization appeared.
Her electronic signature was attached.
Sloan stared at it.
"I didn't approve this."
Marshall looked at Bennett.
Bennett looked at Sloan.
"Then someone used your credentials."
She sat down.
For several minutes she said nothing.
Finally she whispered:
"How did I not know?"
Bennett answered gently.
"Because you trusted someone who knew exactly what you wanted."
She looked at him.
"You're enjoying this."
"No."
"You're not?"
"No."
"Then why aren't you angry?"
"Anger doesn't repair machines."
They continued the inspection.
By afternoon, Sloan had stopped trying to defend Reed.
She began investigating.
Together they found a $48 million consulting contract.