Janet finally announced, “Everything looks in order.”
“Then it’s acceptable?” Jason asked her, and then me, and we both nodded.
He said, “Then, I’d like to say a few words, if you don’t mind.”
I replied, “You’re buying the podium.”
I had the sense he did not find me funny. He studied my face. “I’m very disappointed in you, Sean. I thought you and I had bonded.”
“Not half as disappointed as I am in you, Jason. I never realized what an unsafe or crooked workplace you run.”
“I trusted you.”
“And I’m doing you a big favor, keeping this out of court.”
“I’m not so sure,” he said. “You look perfectly healthy to me.”
“Internal injuries are tricky, Jason. Beneath the surface, I’m shattered, a shambling wreck, horribly scarred and disfigured.”
Jason did not reply to this. But his eyes narrowed. I would’ve taken it for anger or exasperation, but it was more likely frustration. Jessica had obviously put him up to making one last stab, and we had to play this out for whatever recording device she had hidden in this office. If I admitted, if I even intimated, I was blackmailing his company, or faking my injuries, I’d lose the grounds for the civil suit, and, with it, the threat of exposure. And of course, seventy million frequent-flier miles would at some point in the future end up back in Jason’s vault.
I scribbled my name on three copies of the settlement, then shoved them across the table at Jason. He sighed, and then scrawled his name. Then our lawyers added their signatures, and the agreement was stamped by Jessica with the certified seal of the Commonwealth of Virginia.
I said, “I believe we get one copy of that.”
Jessica threw it across the table.
I did make a point to say “thank you” before we left.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Act Two of this charade was on the eighth floor of Culper, Westin, and Hutch. Elizabeth looked up with a cheery smile when I entered. “Morning, Major. Do I hear properly that you’re back to work?”
“Work? Ooops… I must be in the wrong place.”
She laughed. “The halls are adrift with rumors. Personally I was rooting for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, the place would be terribly dull without you.”
I leaned on her desk. “Those days are over. I’ve learned my lesson-I’m reformed and purified, another gray, lifeless suit.” I paused, and then asked, “Could I have the key for the ninth floor? I need to have a word with your fatassed idiot of a boss.”
She tossed me the key and laughed. “That’s the spirit.”
I looked up at the camera and stuck my tongue out.
More chuckles.
A few moments later I pushed the button to Hal’s office. It buzzed, I entered, and two nerdy-looking types were seated behind desks, focusing intently on their computer screens.
I explained, “I’m Drummond. I’m here to see Lord Hal.”
“In there,” one answered.
He pushed a buzzer and I pushed open Hal’s door. Merriweather was seated behind his desk, typing something into his computer.
He glanced up. “Oh… it’s you.”
“I thought I’d stop by and say no hard feelings.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“My sentiments exactly.” We exchanged brief yet meaningful glances of mutual hatred. “Cy told you I’m back with the firm?”
“He told me.”
“That all the charges have been dropped?”
“I heard.”
“That I’m allowed to roam the halls at will, turn on computers, and so on?”
“I heard. And I’ll be watching you, Drummond.”
And I’ll be watching you, too. I leaned against his desk. “Hey, Hal, a question I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you recall my friend Lisa Morrow?”
“What about her?”
“Well, I have this really oddball theory that-oh, hell, you don’t want to hear it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, okay. I know this going to sound funny… weird, really. .. but, okay, here it is. I think her murder had to do with her work here.”
“You’re so full of shit. Try listening to the news. That serial killer got her.”
I leaned closer. “See, Hal, what I think is that the serial killer is a phony. He’s actually a hit man sent to get Lisa.”
He looked me dead in the eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No?”
“I didn’t even know her,” he insisted. But his piggy eyes did get a little piggier.
“But she knew you.”
“It’s a big firm, Drummond. Are you accusing me of something?”
I chuckled. “Gee… Hal, you’re a hard guy to have a friendly chat with.”
“Think you’re a smart guy, don’t you?”
“It is a heavy burden having an IQ of 200. Am I letting it show?”
“You done, Drummond?”
“Definitely not with you.”
I could feel his eyes on my back as I walked out. The two guys in the outer office were still staring into their computer monitors as I passed.
I got a cup of coffee and then returned to my luxurious office. In fact, I had just flipped on my computer when there was a light knock. Sally Westin stuck her head in, saying, “I hope I’m not bothering you. Elizabeth told me you came in.”
“Not at all. How are you doing?”
“Fine.” She smiled and entered. “Tired and overworked.”
“The wages of sin.”
She shuffled her feet. “Uh, Barry asked me to stop by as soon as you got in.” She held up a black notebook and added, “The Morris Networks audit… your signature…”
She walked across the floor and laid the notebook in front of me. I flipped it open and reached into my pocket for a pen.
Sally said, “We’ve been hearing disturbing rumors.”
“Nasty ones, I hope.”
“Something about you assaulting Barry, or Barry assaulting you?”
“Ridiculous. We’re thinking of getting married. Anything else?”
“That you were having problems with the audit.”
“More nonsense. It was such fun, I just signed up for a CPA night course.”
“I mean, the accuracy of the audit. You’re sure you’re okay with it?”
“Would I sign it if I wasn’t?”
She pulled up a chair and asked, “May I?”
“Be my guest.”
“Thanks.” A moment passed, then she said, “Listen, Sean, I think you and I got off on the wrong foot.”
I finished signing the audit and glanced up. Sally looked like crap-saddlebags under her eyes, droopy-lidded, limp-haired. Excessive ambition is hard to hide, even with makeup.
“What makes you think that?”
“I know you think I’m stuffy, driven, and uptight.”
“You?” I smiled and she smiled back. I suggested, “You know, you might give thought to maybe jumping naked out of a cake at the firm Christmas party.”
She chuckled. “Would it get me a partnership?”
“You’ll get invitations to more parties.”
She grew serious again and said, “You need friends in this firm. I’ve been remiss. I was supposed to be watching out for you.” She stared at the floor. “I didn’t do a very good job.”
“I’m a tough patient. We’ll both try harder.”
She stood and collected the notebook. “I am your friend, Sean. Remember that. Confide in me. If you have problems, call me.”
“I will. Thanks.”
I checked my e-mail. A long line of firm correspondence was queued up, administrative crap, summaries of important cases-so many e-mails, in fact, that it took nearly five minutes to delete it all. Feeling better, I tackled my phone messages. Since there were none, that didn’t take long.
It was late afternoon, and having not slept for two days, I decided that Act Two had wound down, and I shut down the computer and left.