Page 44 of The List

DAY SEVENTEEN

C HRIS FINALLY PUT IN AN APPEARANCE AT THE MORNING SESSION of the contract negotiations.

He’d been delayed at the mill, where he spent nearly an hour giving the flash drive a final revision.

His arrival at the Comfort Inn came just as UPIU concluded its contract negotiations.

Amazingly, a consensus on all points had been reached with the paperworkers, the head of the company’s delegation proudly informing him that a preliminary agreement had been initialed.

The quickness surprised him, particularly after Reed’s prediction from the other night, but a wink from Reed during a break signaled that he’d been more successful than anticipated.

“One down, two to go,” Chris told the CEO from his cell phone in the hall. They were both glad a third of the work was done.

He hung up and was starting back to the meeting room when the security guard stationed outside all week approached. He had his doubts about the man and wondered if he worked for De Florio. Certainly, at a minimum, he was reporting to him.

“Mr. De Florio dropped by earlier,” the guard said. “You weren’t here so he left this note for you.”

The man handed him a piece of paper. As the guard walked off he unfolded and read

WE’RE WAITING

YOU KNOW WHERE

He smiled.

That he did. Apparently, his partners finally got the message.

He deliberately loitered another half hour before leaving the Comfort Inn.

Then, in one of the white Hickory Row cars, he drove himself directly to Dracula’s Place.

His staff had told him the cottage’s nickname and he thought it more than appropriate.

Not only as a reference to the unique architecture, but as a fitting description for its occupant.

A steward opened the front door and escorted him to Lee’s private study.

He entered and the door was closed behind him.

Lee sat at a small writing desk. Hughes in front. Their faces conveyed that neither was in a good mood.

“And what brings you two down to the woods of middle Georgia?”

“You know damn well why we’re here,” Lee said.

He eased himself into a chair and decided to be coy. “Please, enlighten me?”

“We know about your health problems,” Hughes said. “And we read that confession in your computer. What are you trying to prove, Chris?”

He glared at Hughes. “I’m not trying to prove anything. On the contrary, I’m trying to disprove things.”

“What does that mean?”

“Thirty years ago, what were you, Larry? A half-assed salesman hocking brown paper bags to grocery store chains worrying about your next commission check. You lived in a three-bedroom cracker box and probably agonized every summer if you had enough saved to take a lousy two weeks off. What did you drive? A clunker with a hundred thousand miles on it? Look at you today. That suit must have cost $1,000. Those cuff links, that much and more. That diamond watch has to be worth at least twenty grand. What do you have, two mistresses? And how did you get down here today? The jet? You’ve come a long way. ”

“You’re damn right I have.”

He turned to Lee. “And what were you, Hamilton? An assistant production manager at a paper mill. Salaried man, paid for forty hours and working sixty. Subject to being fired at the whim of management over nothing at all. Not unlike the hundreds who now work for you. All the country-club memberships, dinners at the governor’s mansion, and lunches with the mayor you now enjoy don’t go with that kind of job, do they? ”

“What’s your point, Chris?”

“You know. You’ve both known for years. Ever since you decided to freeze me out.

I guess you forgot who found the money that made this possible, and who managed it.

If it’d been up to you two, we’d have been bankrupt twenty years ago.

Through careful management we prospered, not from hobnobbing with bureaucrats and fattening the pockets of politicians. ”

Lee said, “No one said your contribution wasn’t appreciated.”

“And no one said thank you either.”

“That what this is about? Pissed we outvote you?”

“You know what has to stop.”

Lee sat back and seemed to consider the words. “As I recall the whole Priority idea was yours in the first place.”

“I don’t deny that. I was young and greedy. But we don’t need Priority anymore.”

“A little late for repentance, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t bother you, Hamilton? Don’t you ever think of the families left behind?”

Lee shrugged. “Thanks to that program we’ve been able to provide a solid living, for a lot of people, for a long time.”

“Let’s face it, Chris,” Hughes said. “Without Priority we’d have gone under, or certainly scaled back. It’s proven a great way to keep costs under control.”

He said again, “We don’t need it anymore.”

“Get real,” Lee said. “How many paper companies have folded in the last ten years? We’ve got competition from the Japanese, Canadians, Mexicans, and Brazilians—places we never dreamed about thirty years ago.

I can name a dozen other companies in the Southeast alone that never made it.

Think of all the jobs lost for those communities.

Concord didn’t suffer anything like that.

In fact, while all that misery was going on, we expanded and hired more people. ”

“A prosperity built with blood.”

“So?” Lee said. “Who knows that? And no one would have any way of ever knowing it. All our employees know is that there’s a paycheck every first and third Thursday.

When they go to the doctor the bill gets paid.

And when they retire there’ll be a pension check every month to supplement Social Security.

They have a great life. Stable and secure. ”

“Until we send De Florio, or one of his associates, for a visit.”

Lee was nonchalant. “Why are you so philosophical? Is it because you’re dying?”

“It’s the thought that you two will keep going—once I’m gone.”

“We erased what was on your machine,” Hughes said.

“I have plenty of copies.”

“What do you plan to do with them?” Lee asked.

“I haven’t decided.”

Lee sighed. “You realize you’re leaving us no choice.”

“There are always choices, Hamilton.”

“Why have you been talking to Brent Walker and Hank Reed?” Lee asked.

“Why did you have them to your house? Why involve others, Chris? You know what we’ll have to do.

Doesn’t Walker have a mother? Reed a daughter and granddaughter?

Whatever it takes, it will be done. I’m not going to jeopardize the future of this company or the future of the people who depend on us. Why not save them all the pain?”

“It’ll certainly be interesting, Hamilton. That much I can promise.”

Lee shrugged. “Have it your way.”

He rose. “I assume this will be our last meeting. I’d wish you luck, but it would just be a lie. Instead, I’ll see you both in hell.”

Not giving either one of them time to reply, he left.

Outside, he climbed into the car and drove straight toward the other side of Hickory Row. As he turned out of Lee’s driveway he reached inside his jacket and removed the microcassette recorder.

A bit old-school, but effective.

He slid the PLAY/RECORD button to OFF and smiled, staring at the last piece of evidence he’d need.

1:20 P.M.

L EE SAT SILENT.

“That old fart is going to sink us,” Hughes said.

“Not if I can help it.”

“We have no idea what he intends to do.”

“Whatever Chris’s planned has been done carefully. And right now, he has the jump on us.”

“De Florio needs to handle this.”

He agreed. “But it has to be done right.”

A knock came at the study door. A steward entered and said, “Lunch is ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The steward left.

“Keep your voice down,” he said, “we’re not in the boardroom.” He thought for a second. “Chris is already dying of cancer, it shouldn’t be too hard to induce death consistent with that.”

“What about an autopsy?”

He gave a knowing grin. “As his close partners, Chris left specific instructions to be cremated. We, of course, honored that request and immediately disposed of the body. There’s no family to question anything and, by the time anyone notices, he’ll be ashes.

Besides, once everybody knows he was dying of cancer there’ll be no questions. ”

“I guess we’re going to make sure that information gets out.”

“We’ll issue a press release. Chris was widely known and liked. It’d be expected that the company would make a public statement.”

“What about Walker and Reed?”

“We know Reed has the list. Brent Walker’s involvement could be just a wild goose chase Chris is leading us on. But, for safety’s sake, I’ll have De Florio watch them both carefully.”

“Chris’ fate could send them a message.”

“Let’s hope,” he said.

1:40 P.M.

I T TOOK C HRIS ONLY A FEW MINUTES TO DRIVE ACROSS THE PROPERTY to his house and make it upstairs.

With the bedroom door closed and locked he listened to the entire recorded conversation.

The device had functioned perfectly, everything memorialized.

At the end he activated the RECORD button and added, “Conversation among myself, Larry Hughes, and Hamilton Lee dated June 22. Occurred in the study of Hamilton Lee’s house at Hickory Row at approximately noon. ”

He rewound the tape, then retrieved an oversized brown envelope from one of the desk drawers.

He favored that particular brand because the manufacturer used brown paper produced by Southern Republic.

From his jacket he removed the flash drive and dropped it inside.

On a couple of pieces of personal stationery he penned two notes, taped both shut, and stuffed them in the envelope.

He then slid the microcassette recorder with its tape loaded inside, licked the flap shut, and added a layer of tape to the outside for added security.

He was now living on borrowed time.

Little doubt remained as to what Lee and Hughes would do. He probably had until dark.

But no longer.