Bonnie Jack

by Ian Hamilton

  “A story in a Glasgow newspaper about you and your father.”

  “How did you learn about it?”

  “Several copies were sent to your fax machine. And then Mr. Gordon brought a copy to the office,” she said. She hesitated before adding, “The story is everywhere, Mr. Anderson. I’ve taken calls from board members, the news media, and colleagues from Pilgrim and other companies. I’ve kept a list of those I thought were most important. Do you want me to read it to you?”

  “That’s not necessary. Mr. Arnold and Mr. Goldsmith phoned me here. I’ll return their calls as soon as you and I are done.”

  “And Mr. Gordon really wants to speak to you.”

  “I have to talk to the chairman and vice-chairman first.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Pam, I need you to take down a statement that I want you to release through our internal system. You have approval on my authority.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, without the conviction he would have liked to hear.

  “Write this down,” he said.

  “Do you want it sent as a message from the president?”

  “Yes, I think that would be appropriate, since I still have the job,” he said sardonically.

  “I’m ready, sir.”

  “A newspaper story concerning me, published today in the Glasgow Tribune, requires some explanation and clarification,” he began. “I am currently in Scotland and have been for most of the past week. I came here to trace my family roots. In the process, I discovered that I have a brother and sister previously unknown to me. We connected in the most positive manner and I’m convinced our relationship will now be ongoing. Finding them has been a blessing to me and my family.

  “I also discovered to my surprise that my biological father, the man who put me up for adoption more than fifty years ago, was still alive. He had a violent checkered past and my new-found siblings and I debated whether we should try to locate him. We decided we should and were successful. In retrospect, that wasn’t wise, because when we met him, he became violent and attacked my sister. He then suffered a heart attack and died shortly thereafter in hospital. Official medical reports have confirmed that he had a long-standing heart condition.

  “The local police carried out an extensive investigation and found me and my siblings blameless in my father’s death. No charges will be laid. The fact that the Tribune — a tabloid newspaper with a reputation for sensationalism — chose to print a story about our family situation is unfortunate, but it was beyond my control. I regret any embarrassment this incident may have caused Pilgrim and expect to be back at my desk next week fulfilling my responsibilities.

  “How does that sound to you, Pam?” he asked.

  “It certainly explains a great many things,” she said after a slight hesitation.

  “Good. Then put my name on it and send it out.”

  “Yes, sir. Shall I tell Mr. Gordon you called?”

  “That isn’t necessary. I’ll phone him after I’ve spoken with Mr. Arnold and Mr. Goldsmith.”

  Taking at least partial control of the situation had given Jack the first trace of relief he’d experienced since Harry’s phone call that morning. But he knew the next call would tell him if the relief was justified.

  “Mr. Goldsmith’s office,” the receptionist said.

  “This is Jack Anderson calling for Mr. Goldsmith,” he said.

  “He’s been expecting your call, sir. Just one minute,” she said.

  Jack took a deep breath. He was taking nothing for granted with Goldsmith.

  “Jack, what’s going on over there?” Goldsmith barked. “Both Boston papers, the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and God knows how many other news media have called Don and me asking for comments about the story in that Scottish newspaper. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have to say ‘no comment’ about a story that directly involves our CEO?”

  “Nothing has occurred that should cause you or the board any concern,” Jack said as his cold sweat returned. “And I apologize for not reaching out to you sooner. I was waiting until I heard from my lawyer so I could give you the entire story. I just spoke to him, and everything is now crystal clear and trouble-free at this end.”

  “It’s a bit late for an explanation, let alone an apology.”

  “Ross, I’ve just finished dictating to Pam an internal communication that explains in detail what happened —”

  “Has she sent it?” Goldsmith interrupted.

  “She’s preparing it now.”

  “I don’t want her to send anything out until Don and I have approved it.”

  “Ross, the last time I looked, I was still president of this company.”

  “That may be true, but Don and I have an equal responsibility to protect Pilgrim’s reputation.”

  “The story is bullshit,” Jack said. “Listen, call Pam, get her to read my statement to you, and then call me back. If you have any questions, I’ll answer them in full.”

  “I’ll do that, but I hope you understand how unhappy we are to be caught off guard like this,” Goldsmith said. “The very first thing Don said to me was ‘Why didn’t we hear about this from Jack?’”

  “I wasn’t about to wake you at three o’clock in the morning to tell you about a bullshit story,” he said. “I should have called before now, I admit, but I wanted to hear from the lawyer. It isn’t as if I’m a day late.”

  Goldsmith went quiet, and Jack suspected he hadn’t blunted his response as well as he needed to.

  “I’ll phone Pam,” Goldsmith said finally. “Then I’ll get back to you. Don’t do anything until I do.”

  Jack thought about phoning Don Arnold but decided to wait to hear from Goldsmith. It took thirty minutes before he called back, and Jack knew his vice-chairman had done more than talk to Pam.

  “I sent your statement to Don,” Goldsmith said first. “We went over it together, and it does start to clarify matters.”

  “My lawyer in Glasgow can set up a conversation between you and the superintendent of police if that will add to your comfort level,” Jack said.

  “There’s no need for that.”

  “So can we put this behind us?”

  “I believe I can, but Don isn’t entirely comfortable with things as they stand.”

  “Ross, I did nothing wrong.”

  “Perhaps not, but the perception is less than ideal.”

  “How can I convince him there’s no need to worry?”

  “If he’d heard about this directly from you, he might be more receptive to your explanation. As it is, he feels you were hoping the story wouldn’t get further than Glasgow. He thinks you were trying to hide it from us.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  “I wouldn’t bother doing that today; he’s not going to be listening very well. It might be best to leave things as they are until you get back here and we three can have a sit-down.”

  “Is this going to affect my tenure at Pilgrim?”

  “No. We discussed that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Jack, don’t leap to conclusions,” Goldsmith said. “All I mean is that we agreed you should serve out the rest of your term to retirement. Frankly, there’s no chance now that the board will agree to an extension.”

  “Just a second,” Jack said loudly. “Why should this change anything? Are you telling me that a bogus story in a Scottish tabloid kills our agreement?”

  “For the record, there was no agreement. What we had was an understanding that the board would reconsider your retirement date.”

  “And now?”

  “The way you’ve handled this has eroded Don’s confidence in you. He was never completely sold on extending your tenure. Now he’ll oppose it if it comes before the board, and without Don, it won’t pass. You should forget the entire notion, Jack. And
if you do decide to pursue it, you’ll have to get another board member to make the proposal for you. I can’t do it now,” Goldsmith said.

  “Going to the board without support from you and Don is pointless.”

  “I agree, but I’m not telling you what to do.”

  “I expected better than this from you, Ross.”

  “And I expected better from you,” Goldsmith said. “I think you should be grateful that we’ll continue to support you both within the company and publicly, and that we’re committed to maintaining the status quo.”

  “That’s no less than I deserve.”

  “I agree, but I have to tell you, if anything new emerges about your exploits in Scotland, even the status quo will not be sustainable. So if there’s anything you haven’t told me, now is the time.”

  “There’s nothing,” Jack snapped.

  “Good,” Goldsmith said.

  “And I want to have a meeting with you and Don when I get back.”

  “That can be arranged. Neither of us is taking any pleasure in this. We still respect everything you’ve done for Pilgrim,” Goldsmith said. “And I think, when you take the time to consider our position, you’ll agree that we’re being fair and reasonable.”

  “I’ll see you next week,” Jack said, and put down the phone.

  Jack poured a Scotch, set down the bottle, and put his feet up on the coffee table. He gulped down the drink and poured another. The knot in his stomach unravelled, the warmth of the liquor deadening his senses as its tendrils spread through his body.

  I’m finished, he thought. One lapse in judgement and just like that, he was gone. Goldsmith had said they were going to let him finish his term, but he knew that for the next five months that was the very best he could expect. If he were younger they might have let the issue slide and given him a chance to rebuild trust. But there was no benefit in doing that for a man who had such a short shelf life.

  Would they want him to retire early? When he met with Goldsmith and Arnold in Boston, they might raise the subject — as a suggestion, of course, not as a demand. There was nothing to be gained by insulting him. They would want him to work with Gordon to make the transition as smooth as possible and then go quietly. He knew it would be stupid of him not to; his employment contract contained a morals clause that included a provision for its termination if his behaviour brought the company into public disrepute. He wondered if a termination would also affect his pension, and suspected it might.

  He poured a third Scotch and swore at himself. As much as he wanted to believe they were being unreasonable, he knew he had made a mistake by not calling them sooner. If someone who worked for him had failed to tell him about something that was potentially impactful, he would have been irate. Why should he expect two seasoned board members like Goldsmith and Arnold to act any differently?

  “Calm down. You’re overreacting,” he muttered to himself. Goldsmith had said that Arnold was initially resistant to extending his term. If that was true — and he didn’t doubt Goldsmith — then the story by itself would have been enough to scupper the extension. And nothing had changed where Anne, the kids, and his staff at Pilgrim were concerned. As far as they knew, he was leaving as planned. In a few months the Tribune story would become a faded memory and he’d leave the company with his pride and reputation more or less intact.

  “Jack, is everything okay? Your face is really flushed,” Anne said.

  He hadn’t noticed her come into the suite. “You surprised me.”

  “And you’re drinking already. Were your talks with Ross and Don that bad?”

  “I only spoke to Ross, and it was fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, he was a bit upset that I hadn’t called him sooner. He didn’t like finding out second-hand.”

  “Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have interfered. I should have stayed quiet and let you follow your instincts.”

  “There’s no point in second-guessing. Besides, you didn’t hold a gun to my head, and I don’t think it would have made any real difference if I’d called earlier.”

  “What are they going to do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “I’m releasing a statement that will go to all of our employees and associates. I’m sure it will also be sent to the business press at home. Other than that, nothing changes. I’ll go back and run the company until my retirement.”

  “That was very understanding of them.”

  “After everything I’ve done for that company . . .”

  Anne looked at the bottle on the table. “You’ve had quite a bit to drink.”

  “Not that much.”

  “Maybe we should stay in tonight.”

  “I have to eat,” he said, and then suddenly remembered why she had been gone. “Did you reach the children?”

  “I spoke to Brent and Mark and left a message for Allison. The boys had heard about what happened, and they are very worried about you. Brent said he knows some good lawyers in the U.K. if you need one. Mark offered to fly over.”

  “They’d heard that soon?”

  “They said the story is the talk of the financial community.”

  “In hindsight, that was to be expected.”

  “Do I need to say I’m sorry again?” Anne asked.

  “Of course not. The truth is, it was my decision. I might have made the same one without your advice. To be honest, I knew the story would spread, but I was clinging to the hope that it wouldn’t,” Jack said. “It wasn’t realistic, but I didn’t like the alternative. So I took the chance.”

  “But you said the talk with Ross went fine, so what difference did it make?”

  “They’ll look at me a bit differently, that’s all,” he said. “In all my years at the company I’ve never put a foot wrong, at least not that anyone knows about. Now I have, and I have to say it’s eating at me.”

  “What does that matter? You’ll be gone soon enough. Let Norman Gordon worry about the board.”

  Jack nodded and poured himself another Scotch. “You haven’t said yet how the kids reacted to the news about their new family?”

  “They’re pleased if you’re pleased, but really they were far more concerned about what’s happening to their father. We can revisit the story about our new family members when we get home and things are calmer.”

  The phone rang. Anne stared at it. “That could be Allison,” she said as she crossed the floor. She picked it up, listened, and then passed the phone to Jack. “It’s Harry. He sounds very upset.”

  “What now?” Jack said, pulling himself to his feet. He walked over to Anne and took the phone from her. “What’s going on? Do we have another news article to worry about?”

  “I wish we did,” Harry said. “Georgie is here. She’s had a visit from one of the Baxter boys. We need to talk.”

  30

  Jack and Anne took a taxi to Harry’s house, unsure of what they were going to find there. Harry hadn’t wanted to go into detail over the phone and kept insisting they come as soon as possible.

  Perhaps because he’d had almost four Scotches, Jack didn’t seem panicked by the request. But Anne was alarmed and asked him five times during the taxi ride what he thought was behind it. His reply — “I have no idea, and let’s not leap to conclusions” — did nothing to calm her. When they finally reached the house, her anxiety level was through the roof.

  Harry opened the door before they reached it, his face haggard. When Anne hugged him, she felt a tremor of fear. “Where’s Georgie?” she asked, looking behind him into the empty hallway.

  “She’s upstairs with Barbara. They’ll be down in a minute,” Harry said.

  They went into the living room. “Drinks?” Harry asked as they sat down.

  “I’ll have a Scotch,” said Jack.
/>
  “Nothing for me,” Anne said, and then added quickly, “What’s going on?”

  “Billy Baxter and one of his goons paid Georgie a visit,” Harry said.

  Anne heard a noise from the stairway and saw Barbara holding Georgie by the hand as she helped her navigate the last few steps. Anne went to the door to meet them. As she got closer, she saw that Georgie’s eyes were filled with tears and her right cheek was gashed and bloody.

  “Oh my god!” Anne said. “What did they do to you?”

  “Billy Baxter hit me,” Georgie said. “He slapped me with the back of his hand. His ring cut me.”

  “Have you called the police?” Anne asked Barbara.

  “No. Georgie doesn’t want us to.”

  “Georgie, why on earth not?” Anne said.

  “It would just make things worse.”

  “But you need protection.”

  “The police protecting me from the Baxters? That’s not on. If the Baxters decide they want to harm me, then one way or another they will,” Georgie said.

  “But why?” Anne asked.

  Georgie looked across the coffee table at Jack and shuddered.

  “They want money,” Harry said.

  An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. The women sat down.

  “Should I assume that the money they want would come from me?” Jack said.

  “Yes, that’s their plan,” said Harry.

  Jack sipped his Scotch and shook his head slowly. “What else do I need to know?”

  “I don’t want you to do anything,” Georgie blurted, tears coursing down her cheeks. “It isn’t right. This has nothing to do with you.”

  Harry reached for his sister, his hand resting gently on her knee. “Georgie, like it or not, the Baxters have brought Jack into this. He has a right to know what was said.”

  “Yes, tell me, please,” Jack said.

  “You tell him. I can’t,” Georgie said to Harry.

  Harry sipped his drink and licked his lips. He didn’t look at Jack as he said, “They want money. They saw the story in the Tribune this morning and figured that now Georgie has a wealthy American brother, you should pony up some of the money stolen by Atholl.”