Bitter Brew: The Rise and Fall of Anheuser-Busch and America's Kings of Beer Part 28

"I can tell you there is absolutely nothing suspicious about her pa.s.sing," said the Fourth's attorney, Art Margulis. "It's a tragic and untimely death of a young person. A very kind person, by the way."

Once the news broke, it broke wide. All over the world, wherever Budweiser was sold, so was the story of the handsome, hard-partying brewery scion with a history of having pretty young women die in his company.

Adrienne Martin emerged from all the coverage as a small-town Missouri girl who'd married shortly after graduating from high school and had a baby that same year, a single mom who'd supported herself as a waitress at Hooters, and an undaunted dreamer who entered swimsuit compet.i.tions and beauty pageants and who posted glamorous, s.e.xy pictures of herself on a modeling Web site and wrote that she was studying to be an "art therapist" and "hoped to help children."

"I would really like to do beer advertising!" she said. "Since I have only just begun, I can't wait for my exciting times ahead!"

"I never saw Adrienne looking like she did in those pictures," marveled one of the Fourth's friends. "She always looked like a stoned junkie, sitting on the couch, barely able to speak."

In another sad sidebar, Adrienne's death put the name of Michele Frederick back in the media spotlight. Michele's death twenty-seven years before was employed as an ironic device in thousands of news stories, her short life invariably abbreviated to a one-word descriptor, "waitress."

The narrative took an unexpected turn when Adrienne's ex-husband came forward to tell the media and the medical examiner's office that her death might have been caused by a rare heart condition that only he knew about. Kevin Martin, a forty-five-year-old osteopath in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, said that at one point during their marriage, they were in his office after hours and she noticed the EKG machine and asked him to run an EKG on her "to see what it was like." He said the EKG indicated she might have a condition called "long QT syndrome," a congenital disease that affects the heart's electrical rhythm and can result in fainting spells, seizures, or even sudden death. Dr. Martin said he recommended that Adrienne consult a cardiologist, but he didn't think she ever followed up on his advice, nor did he retain a copy of the EKG he ran. He said his ex-wife had been fatigued recently but couldn't sleep. "One of the last things she ever said to me on the phone was, 'I haven't slept in three days now; I am wore [sic] OUT!'"

The medical examiner's office dismissed Kevin Martin's long QT theory when he couldn't back it up with any evidence, but the media ran with it, posting headlines such as "Woman Who Died at Busch Home Had Heart Issue." Dr. Martin was downright chatty with reporters, telling them that he and Adrienne "think the world of August. He is a good man." During a recorded interview with detectives Ford and Brune, Dr. Martin stated that he and August IV were "very friendly, almost like brothers." He told them he had taken his son to the Huntleigh mansion the previous evening to visit the Fourth, who seemed depressed and "thinks G.o.d is punishing him for what happened to the girl in Arizona."

Dr. Martin also said that August IV had informed him of Adrienne's death shortly after it occurred, calling him on her cell phone. He said his ex-wife had been keeping odd hours and was increasingly difficult to reach in the weeks before her death, but he would be "shocked if it was determined that Adrienne used illegal drugs."

Martin's sudden appearance coincided with a cl.u.s.ter of locally written stories that seemed almost orchestrated to present the Fourth in the best possible light. "August Busch IV Not to Blame for Death, Girlfriend's Mom Says," read the headline of a Post-Dispatch article that didn't quote the woman as saying that. The article was drawn from an interview that Adrienne's mother, Christine Trampler of Ozark, Missouri, gave to St. Louis TV station KSDK, with the understanding that it would be her "only recorded interview."

Mrs. Trampler volunteered that Adrienne had been taking Trazodone, a prescription drug used mainly to treat depression and anxiety, but sometimes for insomnia and cocaine withdrawal. "She took Trazodone when she couldn't sleep," Mrs. Trampler said. "I didn't find out until after she died that her physician had increased the dosage. That's the only thing I could think of that could have contributed to [her death]." She revealed that on the last day of Adrienne's life, August IV had taken her for her first ride in a helicopter, and Adrienne had sent her pictures of them in the c.o.c.kpit.

The grieving mother apparently only had good things to say about her late daughter's boyfriend, even though she admitted that she had never met him. "We talk every day on the phone because I feel like he is the only one that semi knows what I'm going through." It seems she gleaned enough from those conversations to say that "August's strengths were Adrienne's weaknesses, and Adrienne's strengths were August's weaknesses. So they balanced each other out perfectly."

A widely published a.s.sociated Press article, written by a St. Louisbased correspondent, reported that the Fourth was still held in high regard by the three women you'd least expect it from-his ex-wife, former mother-in-law, and ex-fiancee.

Said the AP: "Those who agreed to talk about [the Fourth] presented a picture of a driven man who seemed thwarted by fate at every turn. The secrecy surrounding him, combined with tales of wild parties, helped perpetuate a misleading portrait of a man who is more diligent, humbler and harder working than most believe, said his former mother-in-law Nancy Thatcher." The article did not actually quote Mrs. Thatcher directly about anything, but it did quote her daughter Kate, the former Mrs. Busch, seeming to defend the Fourth by saying that A-B "was his life. It was everything he knew.... I think he's trying to figure out what he wants to do. He just expected that would be his life, and suddenly it wasn't anymore." As a kicker, the article quoted Judy Buchmiller, to whom he was engaged in 1991: "I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to him. He's a good guy. He's really misunderstood."

The capper in the sympathy campaign, however, was a Post-Dispatch article based on an interview the Fourth gave to the newspaper's gossip columnist, Deb Peterson. It quoted Busch saying that he "loved this girl with every ounce of my heart.... It's the saddest thing I've ever dealt with.... I've been through some pretty bad things the past two years, and she was always by my side ... She was the only girl I've ever been with that I didn't want to have someone on the side. You know, I'm this notorious bachelor who always wanted someone on the side, but I didn't with Adrienne." (The latter comment was so weirdly-and inappropriately-confessional that a local TV station froze it on the screen for a few extra seconds when reporting about the interview.)

Peterson quoted the Fourth as saying he was "falling in love" with Adrienne's son. "I've never spent much time around kids that age before," he said. "They don't care who you are or what you have. They just accept you the way you are."

He said he talked to her mother on the phone every day for few hours. "It's the only thing that makes me feel better." He claimed that he was talking to his father again, too.

"'I love you,' that's what I told him. 'I love you from the bottom of my heart.'" He said his father responded in kind and advised him to get some grief counseling. "I don't know if individual counseling is the way to go or something else. I've got to figure something out. I can't let this take me down."

The interview apparently was short on hard questioning. If Peterson asked him whether he took drugs with Adrienne, it wasn't indicated. The closest the article came to the topic was the Fourth's admission that he had been in rehab in 2010 for depression and "my other issues," on which "he would not elaborate," Peterson wrote.

In a separate article, the newspaper editorialized on its exclusive, likening the Fourth to "the pitcher yanked from the baseball game too early, just a couple of innings in, left wondering what might have been." The editorial ended by repeating his comment about how kids "just accept you the way you are," then added, "It seems that throughout his life Busch IV has wanted nothing more than this."

The interview turned out to be the Fourth's last words on the subject. A week later, Art Margulis contacted Detective James Ford and informed him that he had advised his client to make no further statements regarding Adrienne's death.

The results of the toxicology reports were finally released on February 9: Adrienne Martin had died from oxycodone intoxication. At a joint press conference the next day, Frontenac police chief Tom Becker and St. Louis County prosecutor Robert McCulloch revealed that her body also contained enough cocaine to kill her. In fact, the tests indicated that she had ingested cocaine within an hour of her death, and oxycodone within six hours. Traces of the drugs were detected in the empty prescription bottles found on the dresser, and cocaine residue was found in the plastic straw discovered under the mattress. Which meant that either Adrienne had snorted the very last line of c.o.ke and then lay down on the bed and died, or someone had gotten rid of the rest of it before the paramedics and police arrived.

McCulloch's frustration was palpable when he noted that "neither the oxycodone nor the cocaine were prescribed, and they didn't just drop out of the sky." But because the cause of death was "clearly an accidental overdose" that did not lend itself to a manslaughter prosecution, and because August IV had refused to cooperate, "the investigation as to where the drugs came from is at a dead end," he said. Consequently, no charges would be filed against the Fourth.

The Fourth's attorney, Art Margulis, summed it up smugly for reporters. "If you can reflect back to December, you may recall that we released a statement saying it was an unfortunate tragedy. And it really is," he said. "And we also said in that statement there were no suspicious circ.u.mstances. And I think that's now been borne out and it would seem to me that the matter is closed."

In St. Louis and elsewhere, the general reaction to the news was that August IV had gotten away with it yet again; because of his name and his money, he'd avoided the consequences that a less privileged person would have suffered. Among those most upset about the prosecutor's decision to drop the case was George "Larry" Eby of Springfield, Missouri, Adrienne Martin's estranged father, who told the New York Times he was "not going to stop" trying to find the answers to why his daughter died. "Mr. Busch doesn't know me, but he will when I'm done."

On March 29, AB InBev made the unsurprising announcement that August IV would not seek reelection to the board of directors in April and was leaving the company "for personal and health reasons."

Two days later, Dr. Kevin Martin filed a wrongful death lawsuit against August IV on behalf of his son, Blake, seeking unspecified damages for "carelessness and neglect." Curiously, the Fourth filed a response almost simultaneously, denying the claims of carelessness and negligence but agreeing to move jurisdiction of the case from St. Louis to Cape Girardeau, where Kevin and Blake Martin lived. Legal experts smelled a deal between the two "almost brothers." Under Missouri law, a family can file only one wrongful death lawsuit. So Kevin Martin's move could be seen as a "rush to the courthouse" to prevent Adrienne's parents, Christine Trampler and Larry Eby, from filing a separate claim. The Fourth quickly offered to pay $1.5 million to settle the suit with no admission of responsibility, and Kevin Martin just as quickly agreed to it. But before a judge approved the settlement, Trampler and Eby filed motions to intervene. Trampler's motion, filed by prominent New York litigator John Q. Kelly, argued that Martin shouldn't be allowed to represent the boy because of his personal relationship with August IV. It also questioned Martin's fitness as a parent and alleged that Busch had provided Adrienne with illegal substances "without her knowledge or consent." That Kelly would take on a client in tiny Ozark, Missouri, reinforced the feeling that, given the Fourth's enormous resources, $1.5 million was a lowball offer for a kid who had lost his mother a few days before Christmas. The court did not approve the proposed settlement agreement, and Adrienne Martin's ex-boyfriend, ex-husband, and divorced parents are still in a legal fight over how much money should be paid to her little boy and who should oversee it.

On a weekday afternoon in the spring of 2012, August IV drew looks from other shoppers as he and a male companion stood in the checkout line at Sam's Club in West St. Louis County. Wearing low-hanging baggy jeans, a white T-shirt, and Crocs, he was just barely recognizable as the formerly trim and handsome head of Anheuser-Busch. He'd gained considerable weight, his hair was clearly dyed, and, an observer said, he gave the distinct impression that he was under the influence of something. When the cashier said to him playfully, "Oh, we've heard of you," he responded, "And I'm sure all of it is bad." He then left his companion to pay for several carts' worth of supplies and walked out of the store. After his companion followed, the cashier said to the next customer in line, "You know who that was, don't you?" Getting an affirmative nod, she said, "He comes in here like that all the time. The world must be just a blur to him."

As described by several people who still see him, the life of August Busch IV these days is not one that many people would choose. Since Adrienne Martin's death, the "guys" don't come to the house anymore. His security detail is gone. All but one or two of his employees have left, either frightened away or fired. Despite what he may tell people, he and his father do not speak. He still talks about August III all the time, however, and lives with the knowledge that he is probably the biggest disappointment of his father's life. As one former A-B executive put it, "All August III ever wanted out of the Fourth was performance, and he never got it."

After the InBev takeover, August III receded from public view for a time, but more recently he's become actively involved in a number of charitable and political endeavors, including the 2012 general election. He's also been robustly involved in building a new $10 million home at Waldmeister Farm. According to family and friends, he maintains a close relationship with his three other children-Susan, Steven, and Ginny-but rarely speaks about August IV. And no one expects that he will ever tell his version of the story.

As for the Fourth, his few remaining friends say that his "issues" are worse than ever before.

"At this point August has no respect for his family or his employees, and he especially doesn't have any respect for himself," said one longtime friend, "I think he will die. He is, in effect, dead already. He doesn't care. He has everything in the world, and he doesn't know it."

Said another long-suffering friend, "I have sat up nights with August so that he wouldn't choke on his own vomit and die. I don't care anymore if he dies. He'd be better off. I just don't want anyone else to die."

EPILOGUE

AN AMERICAN DREAM

On a hot August day in 1975, Gussie Busch sat in the stone-cool gun room of the big house at Grant's Farm, regaling three Post-Dispatch reporters with anecdotes culled from his decades as the patriarch of what Life magazine called America's "liveliest, l.u.s.tiest family dynasty."

The reporters were preparing a lion-in-winter series of articles about the old man's colorful life and times. Al Fleishman was on hand to help Gussie with his memory and his mouth, making sure he didn't slip up and let on about the recent coup d'etat engineered by August III. Trudy came and went, checking to see that everyone was comfortable and joining in the conversation when she felt the need.

The room itself was a museum of American history. On display were Tiffany lamps and Remington sculptures; signed photos of Gussie with Presidents Truman, Johnson, and Kennedy; Cardinals' World Series trophies; engraved antique rifles, including a bolt-action Winchester .30-caliber rifle dating back to the days of the buffalo hunts on the Great Plains; and even a beautiful mounted pair of extinct pa.s.senger pigeons in a gla.s.s case.

Surrounded by all the mementos, Gussie talked about his "granddaddy" Adolphus, who let him smoke and drink whiskey when he was just a boy, and his "good daddy" August A., who had sacrificed his health in steering the company through Prohibition and the Great Depression. He talked about Grant's Farm and Busch Gardens, about the Clydesdales and the Cardinals, about Curt Flood and Steve Carlton, and about the first time he laid eyes on Trudy in her father's restaurant in Switzerland. He couldn't bring himself to talk about Christina, however. He fell silent when the subject of the tragic accident came up, his face tightened with pain as he stared gla.s.sy-eyed at a corner of the room. "It was meant to be," Trudy said, putting her hand over his as he struggled to regain his composure. "It could have happened a second earlier or later. It was just meant to be. But the experience has made us stronger."

When he recovered, Gussie acknowledged that his net worth was somewhere in the area of $200 million, and he summed up his seventy-six years of living by saying, "h.e.l.l, I'd do it all again."

The interview was interrupted when twenty-one-year-old Adolphus IV arrived to serve a round of Budweisers in twelve-ounce bottles. Gussie had several beer-drinking rituals he liked to perform for civilians. One was to demonstrate the proper way to pour a beer-down the center of the gla.s.s, not the side-and the other was to give a reverential reading of the company's credo on the Budweiser label: "We know of no other beer produced by any other brewer that costs so much to brew and age. Our exclusive beechwood aging process produces a taste, a smoothness, and a drinkability you will find in no other beers."

This time, however, he dispensed with the usual show. Holding up his half-empty bottle, he kissed it and said, "Gentlemen, this is the American dream."

In March 2012, reporters poring over AB InBev's annual 10-K report discovered that CEO Carlos Brito and a group of about forty top executives had qualified for stock option bonuses worth $1.57 billion. Brito's share of the bonus pot-3.2 million shares at $10.52 per share-was worth more than $180 million.

The numbers were stunning. When InBev bought Anheuser-Busch in 2008, a group of seventeen senior A-B executives received more than a billion dollars for their shares. But most of them had ama.s.sed the stock over the course of many years with the company, and more than two-thirds of the payout went to three men who'd worked there for decades-August III (forty-eight years, $427.3 million), Patrick Stokes (thirty-nine years, $160.9 million) and August IV (twenty-one years, $91.3 million). Of the new group of stock option recipients, it appeared that only a few had been with A-B prior to the buyout.

Even more stunning, the bonuses were not triggered by increased sales or market share. They were based solely on what the company termed "de-leveraging," or reducing the debt that InBev had incurred in buying Anheuser-Busch in the first place. The company had reduced its total debt by more than $20 billion since 2008-from $56.6 billion to $34.7 billion-by selling off brewing a.s.sets in eastern Europe, Korea, and China and non-core businesses such as A-B's theme park division, and by cutting back the St. Louis division's formerly bloated budgets.

In InBev's home base of Belgium, however, rank-and-file workers claimed the company was. .h.i.tting its budget targets by skimping on repairs and preventive maintenance, and spokesmen expressed outrage at the size of the executive bonuses. "A worker would take 4,500 years to get the bonus of Brito," complained one union official. "No one can be worth that," said a leftist politician, adding, "Companies with the highest bonuses are not necessarily the best run." Oddly, there was no outcry against the bonuses in St. Louis, which had borne the brunt of the company's reduction in its workforce, losing approximately 2,000 jobs.

After nearly four years in charge of the world's largest brewer, Brito and his executive team had shown they were better at buying companies and slashing budgets than selling beer, at least in the United States, where volume fell by more than 3 percent in 2011. For the first time in more than a decade, the company shipped fewer than 100 million barrels domestically, and AB InBev's U.S. market share dropped to 47 percent. Budweiser sales sank another 4.6 per cent, after declining 7 percent in 2010 and 10 percent in 2008.