throat. “I wish to take the brewery national and I need your help to do it.”
Hatcher’s expression grew even darker. “As I recall, I had that idea several years ago and you turned it down.”
“I had my reasons. The time wasn’t right. So, we took you on as an investor and I believe that investment has made you a lot of money.”
“As do all of my investments. But, I have no desire to play catch-up. You missed your chance while other local breweries like Pabst and Anheuser have thrived and started to expand regionally.”
“You’ve already tasted Patrick’s creations. You know anything he has far outshines what they are brewing in the Midwest.”
“He is gifted, without a doubt. So are others. No offense, Patrick.”
“None taken,” Patrick said and sipped his bourbon. “I realize I’m not the only brewmaster in the country.”
Jack knew they wouldn’t be so flippant about Patrick’s genius if they had tasted the brewer’s recent Saaz lager. That revelation would come once Jack had Hatcher’s buy-in. “Such may be the case but we now have the perfect opportunity.”
Hatcher looked bored as he arched a brow. “Is that so?”
“The key to shipping beer across the nation is about maximizing profit and maintaining freshness. I’ve solved both problems. First, profit. For that, we need to buy a railroad. A number of them are in trouble.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Hatcher said. “Railroads and banks are failing across the country. President Cleveland is going to send this country into a depression. He’s completely inept to handle the financial crisis—despite my best advice on how to proceed.” Hatcher was a Wall Street wizard who could sink or save businesses with a well-placed word.
“Nevertheless,” Jack said, “we should capitalize on the current downturn. If we bought a centrally located railroad, we could ship anywhere in the country in just a few days.”
“And the freshness? How would you keep the beer cold?”
This was the best part. Jack sat back and held his palms out like he was making an offering. “Refrigerated train cars. I’ve seen drawings for them and talked to fruit growers in Georgia who use them for peaches. It would work for beer.”
“Hmm.” Hatcher scratched his jaw and stared at his bourbon. “If I’m being honest, I don’t relish going into business with you. The silent investor role is a hard one for me. And you’re talking a lot of capital for this venture.”
Jack could feel the other man’s interest like an electric current in the room. “I realize that and wouldn’t expect you to remain silent.”
“You are willing to share control?”
“Yes, to a degree. You and Patrick would both have a say.”
After a pause, Hatcher said, “The Northern Transportation Railway might work.”
Jack smothered a grin. If Hatcher was picking apart the idea and making suggestions, that meant he was on board. “I like the Great Lakes Northern better.”
“Yes, I’d forgotten about them. Regardless, I need to think about it.”
Jack nodded. He’d brokered enough deals to know when it was prudent to back off and let the information stew awhile. “You know how to find me.”
“Yes, I do. In the meantime, have the plans for the refrigerated railcars sent to me. I’d like to look them over.”
“Of course.”
“It seems you’ve thought this through, Mulligan.” Hatcher placed his empty crystal tumbler on the side table. “So, tell me. If Patrick is in charge of the beer and I’m in charge of the money, what exactly do I need you for?”
“It’s my deal. And you need me for my distribution contacts.”
“Don’t you have enough on your plate at the moment?”
Yes, but more money and power were always worth the trouble. Qui n’avance pas, recule.
He spread his hands helpfully. “I am happy to buy out your share in the brewery.”
Hatcher took the hint and dropped the issue. He stood and everyone else followed suit. “We’ll speak later, Mulligan, after I’ve reviewed the plans.”
“Patrick, are you all right with this?” Frank asked his brother.
“It’s worth a try.” Patrick shrugged. “Someone else will do it if we don’t. Thank you for considering the idea, Mr. Hatcher.” Patrick held out his hand.
“I like you, Patrick,” Hatcher said as he shook the brewer’s hand. “You’re a genius with hops and barley. It’s your partner that I am not sold on quite yet.”
Jack merely smiled. Hatcher would come around eventually to see things Jack’s way.
They always did.
Chapter Eight
Justine glanced over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time. Infuriatingly, the curtains of the Greene box remained closed. Where in Hades was