A few days later, the diary entry reads: 'I've asked Harriet for an appointment. As usual she's given me a date three weeks in advance just to show me who's boss in the PE company's scheme of things. She'll be changing her tune soon - I can wait.'
Three weeks later, the diary entry reads:
'"Saw Harriet today. After settling into the very low, and only, chair in her office which she seems to bring out just for me, I look up at her and say. "It's not the fact that your husband is a cross-dresser or that you frequent a club which employs beefy young men in thongs to serve drinks, but the fact that you've used your company credit card to pay for entertaining said beefy young men at various South Coast hotels which will prove to be a concern for the board".'
'The sneer went off the bitch's face PDQ,' writes Ed, 'she went as white as a sheet. It was wonderful.'
'Finally she croaked "Where's your proof?"'
'I tossed a copy of the private dick's report on her desk - photos and all. Harriet read it in horror. "If the board sees this . . . . ."
"You'll be out of the company and the laughing stock of the industry," I said, "and if the board sees it, it'll be in the newspapers next day - you know how leaky those guys are - and that will be distressing for your children, Harriet", I added, injecting some false concern into my voice.'
'"What can I do", she asks - I know she's beaten.'
'"Resign of course," I replied, "but there's something else - I want you to secure Bob Tyrell's promotion to COO," (Bob Tyrrell is an industry mate of mine) "I don't want to know how, and I don't care how you do it, but the signal for me to destroy all this evidence rather than send it to the board, is the announcement from our PE owners that Bob is to take over as COO".'
'With that I get out of the chair, advance a threatening step towards her then turn and exit.'
'It's been a good month - I've put in place some growth plans, and I've got rid of Horrible Harriet,' writes Ed, 'roll on my $25 mill.'