Finally, the chairman whispered.
"My mother would be ashamed of how little I listened."
The niece looked toward him.
For several seconds, she seemed uncertain what to say.
Then answered gently.
"Mrs. Morita hoped you would listen eventually."
The billionaire nodded.
He couldn't change the years he'd lost.
But he could decide what happened next.
The company's independent review eventually confirmed that parts of the Kameyama Ridge proposal had been presented without adequately addressing important water-management questions.
Several technical assessments were incomplete.
Some financial relationships hadn't been properly disclosed.
And the conflict between the project's projected benefits and the interests of surrounding growers required much more careful examination.
The board suspended the original development agreement.
It appointed independent advisers to review the land rights, environmental requirements, and financial relationships.
The company also established a process for local representatives to participate in discussions concerning future changes affecting the village.
Not every farmer agreed on what should happen.
Some favored limited development with strong protections.
Others preferred preserving the area primarily for agricultural use.
Those differences were legitimate.
The company could not resolve them by pretending everyone wanted the same outcome.
But the process became more transparent.
And the chairman no longer allowed one executive to characterize every objection as irrational resistance.
The original Kameyama Ridge transaction, as proposed by the nephew and CFO, did not proceed.
That decision had financial consequences.
Investors were disappointed.
Some employees worried about the loss of projected revenue.
And the company faced difficult questions about the executives who approved the earlier arrangements.
But the board concluded that moving forward without resolving the serious concerns would create greater risks.
For the chairman, accepting that decision was painful.
He had spent decades measuring success through completed transactions.
Now he was learning that refusing a bad agreement could be just as important as completing a profitable one.
The most disturbing evidence against the CFO was found several months into the investigation.
It came from communications preserved by an outside financial adviser involved in the proposed development.
The adviser had participated in meetings concerning corporate succession arrangements, emergency leadership authority, and the effect of a sudden change in the chairman's health on pending transactions.
At first, those discussions appeared to concern ordinary risk planning.
Large corporations routinely considered what would happen if a senior executive became unavailable.
But the timing and language of several communications raised serious questions.
Certain documents had been prepared shortly before the private dinner.
One described a proposed announcement concerning a sudden medical emergency involving the chairman.
Another considered leadership arrangements in the event of permanent incapacity.
The investigators examined the materials alongside records of the CFO's conversations with the nephew.
The nephew claimed he was told the substance would produce a temporary problem.