Father’s Day Murder by Leslie Meier Page A

Library, with its cavernous ceiling and massive staircase, was a far cry from its cozy cousin in Tinker’s Cove. The guard was helpful, however, and she soon found the reference department. A librarian there not only directed her to one of the newer computers—“Some of these older machines are awfully slow”—but gave her some helpful tips on the best search engines. She was soon clicking her way through pages and pages of information.
    Some of it—like the fact that Pioneer Press Group was a chain of small- and mid-size newspapers located in the Northeast—she already knew. Of more interest was the company’s corporate structure, especially who actually owned it and who had the power to make decisions.
    Luther Senior, she was not surprised to learn, had been a major stockholder, with 25 percent of the shares, and was also the CEO. Harold, his younger brother, held a similar number of shares and was chief financial officer. Junior and Catherine together held another quarter; the remaining shares were held by a long list of stockholders including individuals, banks, and corporations. What this meant, Lucy concluded, was that Luther had not had free rein to do whatever he wanted with the corporation. Any big change, like a sale, would require agreement with other stockholders. Getting that agreement would require discussion, and discussion often led to arguments, especially in a family. Heated arguments, like the one she’d witnessed. If only she knew what it was about.
    Of course, everything had changed now that Luther was dead. Lucy wanted to know who would inherit his shares, and found Luther had made no secret of his intentions. He’d been honored recently at a fund-raising roast, and when it was his turn to speak, he’d responded to Junior’s mildly humorous speech by joking that Junior could have been a lot funnier but didn’t want to risk being disinherited. Then he’d turned serious and said how gratifying it was to know that his son would carry on the business that he’d built.
    Lucy paused, scratching her head. Did this mean that he’d left all his shares to Junior? That would give him more stock than anyone else, but was still just short of the fifty-one percent needed to make decisions single-handedly. But what about Catherine? Didn’t she inherit anything? Perhaps Luther hadn’t been quite as open-minded as he’d claimed and had been unhappy about Catherine’s lifestyle choices.
    Rather more surprising to Lucy was the discovery that the Pioneer Press Group was in deep financial trouble. Despite the lavish hospitality-suite spreads and the private cocktail parties and the carefully cultivated aura of success, the chain was steadily losing money. The proof was in the reorganizations and layoffs that followed every fourth quarter. Lucy wondered how long this pattern could continue without major cutbacks or even filing for Chapter 11 protection. Some of the papers appeared to be profitable, like Catherine’s Northampton News and Harold’s Republican, but the larger-city papers, Junior’s Hartford Gazette and the Lowell Times, for example, were facing hard times.
    Considering the situation, she couldn’t understand why Luther had decided against National Media’s offer to buy the chain, if he had. The company was leaking capital and the sale was the only lifeboat in sight. Making it even more appealing was National Media’s promise not to close any of the papers, but to increase profitability by “streamlining and eliminating duplication of effort.” Lucy took this to mean job cuts in departments like features, sports, business, and advertising. A single features department, for example, could provide material for all the papers, and a consolidated ad department could sell to regional, as well as local, customers.
    Lucy was the first to admit she didn’t know much about business, but the National Media