…
Richard tossed his cell phone down onto the hotel bed and watched it bounce on the mattress. He took comfort in his restraint: his initial thought had been to hurl it as hard as he could—a baseball and he was twelve—against the wall with the framed black-and-white photograph of construction workers high atop a Manhattan skyscraper in (he presumed) the 1920s. He had just gotten a call from a lawyer. A fellow who worked at Franklin McCoy and whom Richard had never met. Said his name was Hugh Kirn. Apparently, Richard’s boss—Peter Fitzgerald, great-grandson of Alistair Franklin himself, a keeper of the firm’s torch, and utterly humorless—thought it best if Richard took a leave of absence. Seems all the managing directors and the CFO himself felt that way. Paid, Hugh had made clear. Paid. Of course. At least for now. And if this blew over? Then they could revisit what to do next, and whether it made sense for him to return.
“Revisit?” he asked the lawyer. “Do you have any idea how long you want this leave of absence to be?”
“No. Let’s wait and see.”
“Can I talk to Peter? I mean, tell him what really happened?”
“I told you, I’m calling for him. For the whole management team.”
“I understand. But can I call him as a friend? Just talk to him?”
“You shouldn’t. Please don’t talk to anyone at the firm.”
“Look, I can’t go home. The police won’t let me. So, I was planning on going to the office this afternoon and doing some work. God knows I have plenty to do.”
There was a pause at the other end of the line as Hugh gathered himself. Then: “No. You can’t go there. You’re barred from the office.”
“I’m barred? You make this sound punitive!”
“It’s in everyone’s best interests.”
“Look, it should be pretty empty. I would just—”
“No.”
“No? You’re serious?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m serious.”
“Who’s going to handle—”
“Whatever it is, it will get done. No one’s irreplaceable.”
“Do you know who we’re targeting this week? Do you have any idea what companies I am negotiating with to—”
“Yes. I know everything. We’ve already reassigned your work.”
It was a short sentence, but it was a body blow. Reassigned your work. But once he had absorbed it—his mind reeling with the names of his associates and the people he managed who were going to be taking over his (his!) responsibilities—he only grew madder.
“I’ve got things there I want!” he said. “In my office! Can I at least go there and get them?”
“Like what?”
“Like what? It doesn’t matter like what. My office isn’t a crime scene. It’s not like there’s some sort of investigation into something I may have done at the bank. I…I want my things!” He realized he sounded infantile, but the words were spilling out now like coffee beans from the bulk food dispenser at the natural foods market. This was madness.
“If you could name some—”
“I don’t have to name a goddamn thing!”
“You’re upset. I understand. But—”
“Can’t I talk to Peter?”
“I said that would be inappropriate.”
“No, you didn’t. You just said no.”
“Richard—”
“Don’t Richard me in that tone! We don’t know each other that well. Wait: we don’t know each other at all!”
“We can ship you whatever personal items you want. Family photos. Plaques. Paperweights. We will be happy to ship that sort of thing to your home.”
“Plaques. Paperweights.”
“Of course.”
“This is degrading.”
“So was your party on Friday night.”
“Hugh?”
“Yes?”
“Be a human. Let me retrieve my stuff. I won’t take any files. I won’t take any papers. I promise.”
“I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But since you asked like a human, fine. I will meet you at the office. Is four-thirty okay?”
“Where do you live?”
“It doesn’t matter where I live.”
“For God’s sake, I wasn’t threatening you. I was asking to see how much of an inconvenience coming into the office will be for you.”
“I live on Long Island.”
“Then four-thirty is fine. You’re doing me a favor, so I won’t be a jerk and say that’s too late in the afternoon. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You’re going to have security with you, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Fine. See you at four-thirty.”
“And Richard?”
“Yes?”
“Since you’re coming in, why don’t you bring your keys and ID card? You can turn them in this afternoon. It will save us all a little trouble in the next few days.”
When he recalled the conversation, he thought he had shown admirable self-control not wrecking his cell phone by heaving it against the hotel room wall.