She closed her eyes, frustrated. "I think you're getting sidetracked."
"I think you're overstepping your role. I don't need the FBI to play Sherlock Holmes. So far all we asked for was a psychological profile of the killer from one of your experts."
"And I can tell you that when Victoria Santos completes her profile, those abuse allegations aren't likely to fit anywhere in the FBI's thinking."
"Maybe they should."
"Dick, listen--"
"No, you listen. Are you going to tell me that an FBI profile has never been wrong?"
Andie was silent.
"I didn't think so," he said. "I thank you for your call. If I need anything more from you, I'll be in touch."
The tine clicked before she could respond. She slammed down the receiver and fell back in her chair. Idiot.
Gus was encouraged when he left the staff meeting. The show of support was heartening. At least he wasn't totally alone.
Before he made it through the lobby, however, he was called to an emergency meeting of the executive committee. He assumed they wanted to ask how much time he would take off and what the firm could do to help. It was a nice gesture, prompted no doubt by the outpouring of support from the staff. His high-ranking partners were never to be outdone, even if it meant having to extend an act of kindness.
He headed to the north conference room to meet the committee. It was an interesting choice of venue, the only conference room with a round table. No one could sit at the head, Gus's usual position.
"Hope I haven't kept you all waiting," said Gus as he entered.
In unison they mumbled something to the effect of "no problem." Martha was seated on the far side of the table, her back to the window. Beside her was the chairman of the litigation department, and next to him was the chairman of the corporate department. Buster Ullman was standing at the window, taking in the view. He was the firm's administrative partner, the whip cracker and keeper of the purse. He tracked each lawyer's "productivity," making sure they billed the requisite hours, sent out their invoices on time, and collected the hours they billed. A phone call from Ullman was like an audit letter from the IRS.
Upon Gus's arrival, the entire five-member executive committee was present.
"Have a seat:' said Ullman. The tone was serious. Gus pulled up one of the empty chairs opposite Martha.
Ullman remained standing. "I assume you know why we called this meeting."
"You want to help find my wife?"
He coughed. "Well, we do hope the police are making progress on that. But the immediate focus of this committee has to be those things that are within our power and control."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we have to deal with the potential public and client relations problems caused by that newscast last night."
Anger churned inside--though he wasn't totally shocked. "My wife is missing, and you want to talk public relations?"
"Please don't put it that way."
"What way?"
Ullman stepped closer. "This is a personal tragedy for you. We're all very sorry. But somebody has to make sure this personal tragedy doesn't turn into a firm crisis."
Gus glanced at the others at the table, fixing last on Martha. "Is that the way you all feel? My personal life is a liability to the law firm?"
They were silent. Ullman said, "This can't come as a total surprise to you, Gus. We went through this same discussion five years ago. An allegation of spouse abuse against the managing partner of this law firm can have serious ramifications. Clients could fire us. Female recruits could fall off. Bad press follows. And so forth."
"None of those things happened the last time."
"No. But until last night no one knew that Beth had actually filed a formal complaint."
Gus felt like lashing out, but he thought before he spoke, measuring his words. "After all this time, don't you find it peculiar that Action News somehow got wind of that complaint?"
"Peculiar? I don't follow you."
"When this whole thing started five years ago, I was upfront about it. None of it was true, but for some reason Beth had accused me of abuse. I brought it to the attention of this committee just in case it became public."
"You said she had told a girlfriend that you had hit her. You didn't tell us she had filed a formal complaint."
"She withdrew the complaint the day after she filed it. Because it simply wasn't true. We put it behind us, never really talked about it again. Very few people knew it had ever been filed. In fact, I could probably name those people on one hand. Maybe even one finger." He was looking right at Martha.
She glared in return. "You're out of line, Gus."
"Am I?"
Ullman intervened. "Well, let's not make this personal. All we're saying is that we are truly sorry about your personal situation. But this law firm can't stop operating because of it."
"It hasn't stopped. I've been away for three days." "And you will undoubtedly be away longer."
"I'm sure I will."