“I’m sorry,” he said. “But things are happening very fast.”
`Just so we are clear. I don’t like it, and if it happens again, you’ll be looking for new counsel.” That coldness again, the sudden coldness. “Now. So you told Blackburn. What was his response?”
“He asked me if I would mediate.”
“Absolutely not,” Fernandez said.
“Why not?”
“Mediation is invariably to the benefit of the company.”
“He said it would be non-binding.”
“Even so. It amounts to free discovery on their part. There’s no reason to give it to them.”
“And he said you could be present,” he said.
“Of course I can be present, Mr. Sanders. That’s no concession. You must have an attorney present at all times or the mediation will be invalid.”
“Here are the three names he gave me, as possible mediators.” Sanders passed her the list.
She glanced at it briefly. “The usual suspects. One of them is better than the other two. But I still don’t-”
“He wants to do the mediation tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Fernandez stared at him, and sat back in her chair.
“Mr. Sanders, I’m all for a timely resolution, but this is ridiculous. We can’t be ready by tomorrow. And as I said, I don’t recommend that you agree to mediate under any circumstances. Is there something here I don’t know?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Let’s have it.”
He hesitated.
She said, “Any communication you make to me is privileged and confidential.”
“All right. DigiCom is about to be acquired by a New York company called Conley-White.”
“So the rumors are true.”
“Yes,” he said. “They intend to announce the merger at a press conference on Friday. And they intend to announce Meredith Johnson as the new vice president of the company, on Friday.”
“I see,” she said. “So that’s Phil’s urgency.”
“Yes.”
“And your complaint presents an immediate and serious problem for him.”
He nodded. “Let’s say it comes at a very sensitive time.”
She was silent for a moment, peering at him over her reading glasses. “Mr. Sanders, I misjudged you. I had the impression you were a timid man.”
“They’re forcing me to do this.”
“Are they.” She gave him an appraising look. Then she pushed the intercom button. “Bob, let me see my calendar. I have to clear some things. And ask Herb and Alan to come in. Tell them to drop whatever they’re doing. This is more important.” She pushed the papers aside. “Are all the mediators on this list available?”
“I assume so.”
“I’m going to request Barbara Murphy. Judge Murphy. You won’t like her, but she’ll do a better job than the others. I’ll try and set it up for the afternoon if I can. We need the time. Otherwise, late morning. You realize the risk you’re taking? I assume you do. This is a very dangerous game you’ve decided to play.” She pushed the intercom. “Bob? Cancel Roger Rosenberg. Cancel Ellen at six. Remind me to call my husband and tell him I won’t be home for dinner.” She looked at Sanders. “Neither will you. Do you need to call home?”
“My wife and kids are leaving town tonight.” She raised her eyebrows. “You told her everything?” “Yes.” “You are serious.” “Yes,” he said. “I’m serious.” “Good,” she said. “You’re going to need to be. Let’s be frank, Mr. Sanders. What you have embarked upon is not strictly a legal procedure. In essence, you’re playing the pressure points.” “That’s right.” “Between now and Friday, you’re in a position to exert considerable pressure on your company. “That’s right.” “And they on you, Mr. Sanders. They on you.”
He found himself in a conference room, facing five people, all taking notes. Seated on either side of Fernandez were two young lawyers, a woman named Eileen and a man named Richard. Then there were two investigators, Alan and Herb: one tall and handsome; the other chubby, with a pockmarked face and a camera hanging around his neck.
Fernandez made Sanders go over his story again, in greater detail. She paused frequently to ask questions, noting down times, names, and specific details. The two lawyers never said anything, although Sanders had the strong impression that the young woman was unsympathetic to him. The two investigators were also silent, except at specific points. After Sanders mentioned Meredith’s assistant, Alan, the handsome one, said, “Her name again?”
“Betsy Ross. Like in the flag.”
“She’s on the fifth floor?”
“Yes.”
“What time does she go home?”
“Last night, she left at six-fifteen.”
“I may want to meet her casually. Can I go up to the fifth floor?” “No. All visitors are stopped at reception in the downstairs lobby.” “What if I’m delivering a package? Would Betsy take delivery of a package?”
“No. Packages go to central receiving.”
“Okay. What about flowers? Would they be delivered directly?”
“Yes, I guess so. You mean, like flowers for Meredith?”
“Yes,” Alan said.
“I guess you could deliver those in person.”
“Fine,” Alan said, and made a note.
They stopped him a second time when he mentioned the cleaning woman he had seen on leaving Meredith’s office.
“DigiCom uses a cleaning service?”
“Yes. AMS-American Management Services. They’re over on-” “We know them. On Boyle. What time do the cleaning crews enter the building?”
“Usually around seven.”
“And this woman you didn’t recognize. Describe her.”
“About forty. Black. Very slender, gray hair, sort of curly.”
“Tall? Short? What?”
He shrugged. “Medium.”
Herb said, “That’s not much. Can you give us anything else?”
Sanders hesitated. He thought about it. “No. I didn’t really see her.” “Close your eyes,” Fernandez said.
He closed them.
“Now take a deep breath, and put yourself back. It’s yesterday evening. You have been in Meredith’s office, the door has been closed for almost an hour, you have had your experience with her, now you are leaving the room, you are going out . . . How does the door open, in or out?”
“It opens in.”
“So you pull the door open . . . you walk out . . . Fast or slow?”
“I’m walking fast.”
“And you go into the outer room . . . What do you see?”
Through the door. Into the outer room, elevators directly ahead. Feeling disheveled, of balance, hoping there is no one to see him. Looking to the right at Betsy Ross’r desk: clean, bare, chair pulled up to the edge of the desk. Notepad. Plastic cover on the computer. Desk light still burning.
Eyes swinging left, a cleaning woman at the other assistant desk. Her big gray cleaning cart stands alongside her. The cleaning woman is lifting a trash basket to empty it into the plastic sack that hangs open from one end of the cart. The woman pauses in mid-lift, stares at him curiously. He is wondering how long she has been there, what she has heard from inside the room. A tinny radio on the cart is playing music.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this.” Meredith calls after him.
The cleaning woman hears it. He looks away from her, embarrassed, and hurries toward the elevator. Feeling almost panic. He pushes the button.
“Do you see the woman?” Fernandez said.
“Yes. But it was so fast . . . And 1 didn’t want to look at her.” Sanders shook his head.
“Where are you now? At the elevator?”
“Yes.”
“Can you see the woman?”
“No. I didn’t want to look at her again.”
“All right. Let’s go back. No, no, keep your eyes closed. We’ll do it again. Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly . . . Good . . . This time you’re going to see everything in slow motion, like a movie. Now . . . come out through the door . . . and tell me when you see her for the first time.”
Coming through the door. Everything slow. His head moving gently up and down with each footstep. Into the outer room. The desk to the right, tidy, lamp on. To the left, the other desk, the cleaning woman raising the
“I see her.”
“All right, now freeze what you see. Freeze it like a photograph.” “Okay.”
“Now look at her. You can look at her now.”
Standing with the trash basket in her hand. Staring at him, a bland expression. She’s about forty. Short hair, curls. Blue uniform, like a hotel maid. A silver chain around her neck-no, hanging eyeglasses.
“She wears glasses around her neck, on a metal chain.”
“Good. Just take your time. There’s no rush. Look her up and down.” “I keep seeing her face . . .”Staring at him. A bland expression.
“Look away from her face. Look her up and down.”
The uniform. Spray bottle clipped to her waist. Knee-length blue skirt. White shoes. Like a nurse. No. Sneakers. No. Thickerrunning shoes. Thick soles. Dark laces. Something about the laces.
“She’s got . . . sort of running shoes. Little old lady running shoes.” “Good.”
“There’s something funny about the laces.”
“Can you see what’s funny?”
“No. They’re dark. Something funny. I . . . can’t tell.”
“All right. Open your eyes.”
He looked at the five of them. He was back in the room. “That was weird,” he said.
“If there was time,” Fernandez said, “I would have a professional hypnotist take you through the entire evening. I’ve found it can be very useful. But there’s no time. Boys? It’s five o’clock. You better get started.”
The two investigators collected their notes and left.
“What are they going to do?”
“If we were litigating this,” Fernandez said, “we would have the right to depose potential witnesses-to question individuals within the company who might have knowledge bearing on the case. Under the present circumstances, we have no right to interrogate anybody, because you’re entering into private mediation. But if one of the DigiCom assistants chooses to have a drink with a handsome delivery man after work, and if the conversation happens to turn to gossip about sex in the office, well, that’s the way the cookie crumbles.”
“We can use that information?”
Fernandez smiled. “Let’s see what we find out first,” she said. “Now, I want to go back over several points in your story, particularly starting at the time you decided not to have intercourse with Ms. Johnson.”
“Again?”
“Yes. But I have a few things to do first. I need to call Phil Blackburn and arrange tomorrow’s sessions. And I have some other things to check on. Let’s break now and meet again in two hours. Meanwhile, have you cleaned out your office?”
“No,” he said.
“You better clean it out. Anything personal or incriminating, get it out. From now on, expect your desk drawers to be gone through, your files to be searched, your mail to be read, your phone messages checked. Every aspect of your life is now public.”
“Okay.”
“So, go through your desk and your files. Remove anything of a personal nature.”
“Okay.”
“On your office computer, if you have any passwords, change them. Anything in electronic data files of a personal nature, get it out.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t just remove it.. Make sure you erase it, so it’s unrecoverable.”
“Okay.”
“It’s not a bad idea to do the same thing at home. Your drawers and files and computer.”
“Okay.” He was thinking: at home? Would they really break into his home?
“If you have any sensitive materials that you want to store, bring them to Richard here,” she said, pointing to the young lawyer. “He’ll have them taken to a safe-deposit box where they’ll be kept for you. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know anything about it.”
“Okay.”
“Now. Let’s discuss the telephone. From now on, if you have any sensitive calls to make, don’t use your office phone, your cellular phone, or your phone at home. Use a pay phone, and don’t put it on a charge card, even your personal charge card. Get a roll of quarters and use them instead.”
“You really think this is necessary?”