CORPORATE CREEP SHOW

By John Moody

The limos pull up outside the handsome East 63rd Street town house by 8:25 each weekday morning. Within five minutes -- exactly five minutes -- half a dozen regulars at one of Manhattan's most elite breakfast clubs have assembled in a splendidly appointed room graced with a Roy Lichtenstein. Noshing bagels, they obediently await the less punctual arrival of their host and boss, Ronald Perelman, 51, the petulant billionaire-about-town whose empire includes banks, television stations and Revlon cosmetics-as well as holdings such as Coleman camping gear and Pantry Pride supermarkets that are less likely to get him on the pages of Vanity Fair.

Fred Tepperman, 60, was a member of this club until he was expelled in 1991. As chief financial officer of Perelman's holding company, MacAndrews & Forbes, Tepperman had been instrumental in the hostile 1985 takeover of Revlon that helped make Perelman one of America's richest men, worth more than $4 billion. Tepperman did pretty well too, drawing a salary and bonus totalling more than $2 million. Now he hopes to do even better: in a $25 million lawsuit that spawned lurid headlines as it went to trial last week in White Plains, New York, Tepperman charges wrongful dismissal and, not incidentally, paints an ugly picture of Perelman's operation. Is there an unpleasant side to staggering wealth? You bet.

Tepperman's troubles with Perelman started when he began skipping the morning coffee klatches in 1991, after learning that his wife of more than 30 years, Joan, was suffering from Alzheimer's disease. He claims that on some mornings, when Joan would awake confused and crying, he remained at home to bathe and dress her. That excuse cut no ice with the thrice-married Perelman. According to Tepperman's attorney, Perelman offered this advice: "Institutionalize her. And Fred," he allegedly added, "don't look so sad. The bankers will be concerned."

In tearful testimony last week, Tepperman conceded that attending to his wife had caused him occasionally to "lose focus" at work, but he insisted that he nevertheless performed his job competently. Besides, the breakfasts he was skipping had little to do with business. Perelman, Tepperman testified, sometimes regaled those present with bawdy tales of sexual conquests. Another occasional participant at the morning sit-downs confirms they weren't the most orthodox of strategy sessions. "The talk ranged from the brilliance of Ron's latest acquisition to the stylishness of his Hermes ties. It's a worship service."

Locked in a losing battle with embarrassing tabloid headlines -- New York's Daily News dubbed Perelman the king of mean, comparable to Leona Helmsley's queen of the same title -- Perelman's lawyer, Stanley Arkin, did his best to tarnish Tepperman's reputation. Outside the jury's presence, Arkin claimed that Tepperman, after admitting his wife to the Florida nursing home where she is still a resident, began living with Denese Galban, the nurse who once cared for her. Tepperman's lawyers do not dispute his involvement with Galban but insist that the relationship has the blessing of other family members.

In front of the jury, the Perelman legal team chose to focus on Tepperman's dereliction of duty and his reported refusal, once he was terminated, to return executive perks such as a Mercedes-Benz and a cellular phone. Both sides agree the showdown came in late 1991, when Tepperman decided to go to Florida with his wife despite Perelman's insistence that he remain in New York. In court, Tepperman recalled that when he demanded to know why his physical presence was so urgently required in the age of faxes and modems, Perelman exploded in a characteristic tantrum, shouting "I'm the boss! I don't have to answer these questions. You be here next week because I want you to be here next week." When Tepperman went to Florida anyway, and ignored a fax ordering him to return, he was sacked.

For his part, Perelman is quoted as saying in a sworn statement that "Fred fired himself. He wanted to take more time in Florida to play golf." A former Revlon executive believes the dismissal was the result of a simple personality clash: "When you write your own rules, you have no patience for people who don't say, 'Ronald, you're brilliant.' Tepperman is one of the sweetest guys I ever knew. But he's no hero worshipper."

Regardless of how the suit is resolved, the clear loser will be Tepperman's stricken wife, the victim of an equal-opportunity disease that shows no regard for bottom lines or other totems of corporate life. The winners, of course, are those who enjoy the intoxicating spectacle of millionaires and billionaires wallowing in the mud. The trial is expected to last a month.

--Reported by Barbara Rudolph/White Plains

With reporting by BARBARA RUDOLPH/WHITE PLAINS