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Authors: Michael Crichton

Disclosure (37 page)

BOOK: Disclosure
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“Beautiful and charming woman,” Jackson said. “Very intel igent. Always a pleasure.”

Sanders said, “I was wondering why you left.”

“I was offered this job, that's why. And I've never regretted it. Wonderful job.

Wonderful company. I've had a great experience here.”

“Is that the only reason you left?”

Jackson laughed. “You mean, did Meredith Manmuncher come on to me?” he said. “Hey, is the Pope Catholic? Is Bil Gates rich? Of course she came on to me.”

“Did that have anything to do with your leaving?”

“No, no,”Jackson said. “Meredith came on to everybody. She's sort of an equal opportunity employer, in that respect. She chased everybody. When I first started in Cupertino, she had this little gay guy she used to chase around the table.

Terrorized the poor bastard. Little skinny nervous guy. Christ, she used to make him tremble.”

“And you?”

Jackson shrugged. “I was a single guy, just starting out. She was beautiful. It was okay with me.”

“You never had any difficulties?”

“Never. Meredith was fabulous. Shitty lay, of course. But you can't have everything. She's a very intel igent, very beautiful woman. Always dressed great.

And she liked me, so she took me to al these functions. I met people, made contacts. It was great.”

“So you saw nothing wrong?”

“Not a damn thing,” Jackson said. “She could get a little bossy. That got old.

There were a couple of other women I was seeing, but I always had to be on cal for her. Even at the last minute. That could be irritating sometimes. You begin to think your life is not your own. And she's got a mean temper sometimes. But what the hel . You do what you have to do. Now I'm assistant manager here at thirty. I'm doing great. Great company. Great town. Great future. And I owe it to her. She's great.”

Sanders said, “You were an employee of the company at the time that you were having your relationship, isn't that right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Isn't she required by company policy to report any relationship with an employee? Did she report her relationship with you?”

“Christ, no,”Jackson said. He leaned across his desk. “Let's get one thing straight, just between you and me. I think Meredith is great. If you have a problem with her, it's your problem. I don't know what it could be. You used to live with her, for Christ's sake. So there can't be any surprises. Meredith likes to fuck guys. She likes to tel them to do this, do that. She likes to order them around. That's who she is. And I don't see anything wrong with it.”

Sanders said, “I don't suppose you'd-”

“Make a statement?” Jackson said. “Get serious. Listen, there's a lot of bul shit around now. I hear things like, `You can't go out with the people you work with.'

Christ, if I couldn't go out with the people I worked with, I'd stil be a virgin. That's al anybody can go out with the people you work with. That's the only people you get to know. And sometimes those people are your superiors. Big deal. Women screw men and get ahead. Men screw women and get ahead. Everybody's going to screw everybody else anyway, if they can. Because they want to. I mean, women are just as hot as men. They want it just like we do. That's real life. But you get some people who are pissed off, so they file a complaint, and say, Òh no, you can't do that to me.' I'm tel ing you, it's al bul shit. Like these sensitivity training seminars we al have to go to. Everybody sits there with their hands in their laps like a fucking Red Guard meeting, learning the correct way to address your fel ow workers. But afterward everybody goes out and fucks around, the same as they always did. The assistants go, Òh, Mr. Jackson, have you been to the gym? You look so strong.' Batting their eyelashes. So what am I supposed to do? You can't make rules about this. People get hungry, they eat. Doesn't matter how many meetings they attend. This is al a gigantic jerk off. And anybody who buys into it is an asshole.”

“I guess you answered my question,” Sanders said. He got up to leave.

Obviously, Jackson wasn't going to help him.

“Look,” Jackson said. “I'm sorry you've got a problem here. But everyone's too damned sensitive these days. I see people now, kids right out of col ege, and they real y think they should never experience an unpleasant moment. Nobody should ever say anything they don't like, or tel a joke they don't like. But the thing is, nobody can make the world be the way they want it to be al the time. Things always happen that embarrass you or piss you off. That's life. I hear women tel ing jokes about men every day. Offensive jokes. Dirty jokes. I don't get bent out of shape. Life is great. Who has time for this crap? Not me.”

Sanders came out of the Aldus Building at five o'clock. Tired and discouraged, he trudged back toward the Hazzard Building. The streets were wet, but the rain had stopped, and the afternoon sunlight was trying to break through the clouds.

He was back in his office ten minutes later. Cindy was not at her desk, and Fernandez was gone. He felt deserted and alone and hopeless. He sat down and dialed the final number on his list.

“Squire Electronic Data Systems, good evening.”

Sanders said, “Frederic Cohen's office, please.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Cohen has gone for the day.”

“Do you know how I could reach him?”

“I'm afraid I don't. Do you want to leave voice mail?”

Damn, he thought. What was the point? But he said, “Yes, please.” There was a click. Then, “Hi, this is Fred Cohen. Leave a message at the tone. If it's after hours, you can try me on my car phone at 502-8804 or my home at 505-9943.”

Sanders jotted the numbers down. He dialed the car phone first. He heard a crackle of static, then:

“I know, honey, I'm sorry I'm late, but I'm on my way. I just got tied up.),

“Mr. Cohen?”

“Oh.” A pause. “Yes. This is Fred Cohen.”

“My name is Tom Sanders. I work over at DigiCom, and-”

“I know who you are.” The voice sounded tense.

“I understand you used to work for Meredith Johnson.”

“Yes. I did.”

“I wonder if I could talk to you.”

“What about?”

“About your experiences. Working for her.”

There was a long pause. Final y, Cohen said, “What would be the point of that?”

“Wel , I'm in a sort of a dispute with Meredith now, and-”

“I know you are.”

“Yes, and you see, I would like to-”

“Look. Tom. I left DigiCom two years ago. Whatever happened is ancient history now.”

“Wel , actual y,” Sanders said, “it's not, because I'm trying to establish a pattern of behavior and-”

“I know what you're trying to do. But this is very touchy stuff, Tom. I don't want to get into it.”

“If we could just talk,” Sanders said. “Just for a few minutes.”

“Tom.” Cohen's voice was flat. “Tom, I'm married now. I have a wife. She's pregnant. I don't have anything to say about Meredith Johnson. Nothing at al .”

“But “

“I'm sorry. I've got to go.”

Click.

Cindy came back in as he was hanging up the phone. She pushed a cup of coffee in front of him. “Everything okay?”

“No,” he said. “Everything is terrible.” He was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that he had no more moves left. He had approached three men, and they had each refused to establish a pattern of behavior for him. He doubted that the other men on the list would behave differently. He found himself thinking of what his wife, Susan, had said two days before. You have no moves. Now, after al this effort, it turned out to be true. He was finished. “Where's Fernandez?”

“She's meeting with Blackburn.”

“What?”

Cindy nodded. “In the smal conference room. They've been there about fifteen minutes now.”

“Oh, Christ.”

He got up from his desk and went down the hal . He saw Fernandez sitting with Blackburn in the conference room. Fernandez was making notes on her legal pad, head bent deferential y. Blackburn was running his hands down his lapels and looking upward as he spoke. He seemed to be dictating to her.

Then Blackburn saw him, and waved him over. Sanders went into the conference room. “Tom,” Blackburn said, with a smile. “I was just coming to see you. Good news: I think we've been able to resolve this situation. I mean, real y resolve it.

Once and for al .”

“Uh-huh,” Sanders said. He didn't believe a word of it. He turned to Fernandez.

Fernandez looked up from her legal pad slowly. She appeared dazed. “That's the way it looks.”

Blackburn stood and faced Sanders. “I can't tel you how pleased I am, Tom. I've been working on Bob al afternoon. And he's final y come to face reality. The plain fact is, the company has a problem, Tom. And we owe you a debt of gratitude for bringing it so clearly to our attention. This can't go on. Bob knows he has to deal with it. And he wil .”

Sanders just stared. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. But there was Fernandez, nodding and smiling.

Blackburn smoothed his tie. “But as Frank Lloyd Wright once said, `God is in the details.' You know, Tom, we have one smal immediate problem, a political problem, having to do with the merger. We're asking your help with the briefing tomorrow for Marden, Conley's CEO. But after that . . . wel , you've been badly wronged, Tom. This company has wronged you. And we recognize that we have an obligation to make it up to you, whatever way we can.”

Stil disbelieving it, Sanders said harshly, “What exactly are we talking about?”

Blackburn's voice was soothing. “Wel , Tom, at this point, that's real y up to you,”

he said. “I've given Louise the parameters of a potential deal, and al the options that we would agree to. You can discuss it with her and get back to us. We'l sign any interim papers you require, of course. Al that we ask in return is that you attend the meeting tomorrow and help us to get through the merger. Fair enough?”

Blackburn extended his hand and held it there.

Sanders stared.

“From the bottom of my heart, Tom, I'm sorry for al that has happened.”

Sanders shook his hand.

“Thank you, Tom,” Blackburn said. “Thank you for your patience, and thank you on behalf of this company. Now, sit down and talk with Louise, and let us know what you decide.”

And Blackburn left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He turned to Fernandez. “What the hel is this al about?” Fernandez gave a long sigh. “It's cal ed capitulation,” she said. “Total and complete capitulation. DigiCom just folded.”

Sanders watched Blackburn walk down the hal way away from the conference room. He was fil ed with confused feelings. Suddenly, he was being told it was al over, and over without a fight. Without blood being spil ed.

Watching Blackburn, he had a sudden image of blood in the bathroom sink of his old apartment. And this time, he remembered where it came from. A part of the chronology fel into place.

Blackburn was staying at his apartment during his divorce. He was on edge, and drinking too much. One day he cut himself so badly while shaving that the sink was spattered with blood. Later on, Meredith saw the blood in the sink and on the towels, and she said, “Did one of you guys fuck her while she was having her period?” Meredith was always blunt that way. She liked to startle people, to shock them.

And then, one Saturday afternoon, she walked around the apartment in white stockings and a garter belt and a bra while Phil was watching television. Sanders said to her, “What are you doing that for?”

`Just cheering him up,” Meredith replied. She threw herself back on the bed.

“Now why don't you cheer me up?” she said. And she pul ed her legs back, opening-

“Tom? Are you listening to me?” Fernandez was saying. “Hel o? Tom? Are you there?”

“I'm here,” Sanders said.

But he was stil watching Blackburn, thinking about Blackburn. Now he remembered another time, a few years later. Sanders had started dating Susan, and Phil had dinner with the two of them one night. Susan went to the bathroom.

“She's great,” Blackburn said. “She's terrific. She's beautiful and she's great.”

“But?”

“But . . .” Blackburn had shrugged. “She's a lawyer.”

“So?■

“You can never trust a lawyer,” Blackburn had said, and laughed. One of his rueful, wise laughs.

You can never trust a lawyer.

Now, standing in the DigiCom conference room, Sanders watched as Blackburn disappeared around a corner. He turned back to Fernandez.

“. . real y had no choice,” Fernandez was saying. “The whole situation final y became untenable. The fact situation with Johnson is bad. And the tape is dangerous they don't want it played, and they're afraid it wil get out. They have a problem about prior sexual harassment by Johnson; she's done it before, and they know it. Even though none of the men you talked to has agreed to talk, one of them might in the future, and they know it. And of course they've got their chief counsel revealing company information to a reporter.”

Sanders said, “What?”

She nodded. “Blackburn was the one who gave the story to Connie Walsh. He acted in flagrant violation of al rules of conduct for an employee of the company.

He's a major problem for them. And it al just became too much. These things could bring down the entire company. Looking at it rational y, they had to make a deal with you.”

“Yeah,” Sanders said. “But none of this is rational, you know?”

“You're acting like you don't believe it,” Fernandez said. “Believe it. It just got too big. They couldn't sit on it anymore.”

“So what's the deal?”

Fernandez looked at her notes. “You got your whole shopping list. They'l fire Johnson. They'l give you her job, if you want that. Or they'l reinstate you at your present position. Or they'l give you another position in the company. They'l pay you a hundred thousand in pain and suffering and they'l pay my fees. Or they'l negotiate a termination agreement, if you want that. In any case, they'l give you ful stock options if and when the division goes public. Whether you choose to remain with the company or not.”

`Jesus Christ.”

She nodded. “Total capitulation.”

BOOK: Disclosure
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