Insiders

by Olivia Goldsmith

  ‘I will not even discuss this,’ Tom said. ‘I am an attorney. You’re talking about privileged information …’

  ‘Well, I’m a thief,’ Cher interrupted him to say. ‘And I’ve stolen quite a bit of privileged information myself. All of your portfolio statements, your files, your correspondence on the Thompson and Bayler-Crup deals. I even have a few tapes of you and Donald talking about your latest scheme, that Canadian petrochemical company.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Tom asked. ‘What do you mean you stole this information?’

  Cher yawned. ‘I mean that I went through your mail and your desk and your briefcase. I have copies of your phone bills, I duped your laptop files.’

  ‘How, how could …’

  ‘It was my pleasure,’ Cher said. She reached over and took Jennifer’s hand. ‘Anything for a pal,’ she said, and smiled real wide at Tom.

  He got very pale. Jennifer could see the perspiration forming in tiny pinhead drops on his upper lip and just over his brows.

  ‘The only reason why a woman – other than dumb Jenny here – would fuck you, pencil dick, is because she needed access to your wallet, your contacts, or your data bank. Make sure you remember that the next time you climb up on top of some little heifer, ‘cause you’ve climbed up on me for the last time. Thank God.’ Cher looked over at Jennifer. ‘Please, promise me I don’t have to fuck him again. It’s so damn boring I’m afraid my heart will just stop beating. Even as a favor to you it’s been tough to swallow, you should pardon the expression.’ She smiled brightly at Tom. ‘My friend here wants you to be the intermediary with your boss. I suggest you do it. I tell you, I know a lot of men in prison and I think you’d dislike getting fucked by them even more than I disliked getting fucked by you.’

  Just then the Balthazar waiter approached the table. ‘Would you like to hear the specials?’ he asked.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’ve just gotten out of prison and I have an enormous craving for seafood. Could we get the triple crown and a vintage bottle of Veuve Clicquot? I didn’t have any champagne in prison either.’

  The waiter laughed. ‘Any other drinks?’ he asked.

  Cher shook her head and indicated Tom with her chin. ‘He doesn’t get any choices,’ she said. ‘And the funny thing is, he pays the bill. But I’d like a bottle of champagne, too.’ She turned to Tom and smiled. He seemed to be in a state of shock, speechless, or maybe beyond speech. ‘He’ll just watch,’ Cher said.

  51

  Jennifer Spencer

  Injustice is relatively easy to bear; what stings is justice.

  H. L. Mencken, Prejudices: Third Series

  ‘But I wanna come.’

  ‘And I want to be an astronaut. But it’s not going to happen in this lifetime,’ Jen told Cher.

  ‘But why? I did so good with Tom.’

  Jennifer put down the blow-dryer and checked out her makeup in her bathroom mirror. She and Cher were both there, though Cher had found her own apartment in Chelsea and was moving in on the first of the month. ‘You know, Cher, I don’t want to hear the details of what you did with Tom,’ Jen said.

  ‘Oh, come on. I did it for you. Please, please can’t I come to the meeting with Donald Michaels?’

  ‘No, you can’t.’

  ‘Just give me one good reason.’

  ‘Because you tried to set him up as a future mark.’

  ‘Okay. Point taken. But give me another good reason.’

  Jennifer hated to admit it, but she actually liked having Cher at her place. And though she did have a real concern that at any moment the bunko squad might knock on the door and take her off in cuffs, she was proud of Cher for going so far toward legitimacy. (The fact that Cher, with all of her predatory traits, was thriving on Wall Street was only another indication to Jennifer that perhaps it wasn’t tragic that she would no longer be permitted to be in that line of work.)

  In fact, she had almost definitely decided that she wanted to continue working with women in prison. She wasn’t sure how yet, but she knew she didn’t want to go back to a life where her comforts and her plans were the only important things in it. Jennifer looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She wasn’t wearing one of her business suits – that was over. She instead had on a pair of black slacks and a simple white shirt.

  ‘You look great,’ Cher told her. ‘Like you just got outta prison. So give me one more reason.’

  ‘I am not giving you another reason. It’s something I have to do on my own.’

  ‘Don’t bullshit me,’ Cher said. ‘And put on a little more lipstick. You don’t have to look like a dyke.’

  Jennifer picked up a tube of Nars and remembered the Adobe Red Cher had handed out at Jennings.

  ‘Lenny’s coming with you,’ Cher said, and sounded exactly like a four-year-old.

  ‘No, he isn’t,’ Jennifer told her. ‘This is something I have to do myself. But if I need reinforcements you and Lenny will be the first two people I’ll call.’

  ‘You suck,’ Cher said.

  ‘This, from a woman who had sex with my ex-fiancé,’ Jennifer responded, then picked up her purse and went out the door.

  Nothing in Donald’s office had changed, least of all Donald himself. He sat, well buffed, well coiffed, well dressed, and well fed, his feet – well shod as ever – up on the desk and crossed at the ankles as usual. The only time his feet came down from the desk was when he had to walk to his limo or kick someone’s ass, Jennifer thought. Somehow, staring at his shoe sole – certainly the only soul he possessed – bothered her more than coming into the Hudson, Van Schaank & Michaels building, going past the receptionists and ex-coworkers, waiting in Donald’s private reception area or even seeing Tom, slightly pale, enter the room. She had once read that, during his presidency, Lyndon Johnson used to go to the toilet and defecate during meetings, expecting his cabinet members to follow him while he continued the conversation. Somehow staring at the bottom of Donald’s shoe was like that.

  ‘I want it very clear that it is only as a courtesy that I am seeing you,’ Donald began. ‘Tom came to me with your demands, and I want you to hear this very clearly, Jennifer: You have no grounds for these allegations and I am not intimidated. Now, if you have something else to say, say it, because I have a meeting – an important one – in ten minutes.’

  So it was going to be like that. Jen just shrugged. ‘I don’t have a wire on,’ she told Donald. ‘You don’t have to bother with your broadcast to the troops.’ Jennifer stood up and in less than three seconds opened her shirt, unzipped her pants and dropped both to the ground. She turned around briefly. ‘There,’ she said. ‘See?’ One thing prison had done for her was buff her up. She wanted to show these two jerkoffs something perfect they’d never have. She didn’t look at the two men’s reactions. She merely bent down, pulled up the slacks, buttoned the waist and slipped back into her top. After the group showers and everything else she’d been through at Jennings, this was no big deal, but it made a hell of an impression on the two of them.

  ‘Are you offering yourself to me?’ Donald asked.

  Jennifer actually laughed aloud. ‘Yes, and I’ve converted to Islam,’ she said, then sat down and crossed her legs. She shook her head. ‘Don,’ she said, consciously using the nickname he hated. ‘Don, I wouldn’t fuck you with Tom’s dick. Now, let’s get serious. I don’t know if you are recording this, but that nonsense about blackmail can be disregarded. Let me make this short and sweet. We made an agreement. I took the fall for you and you were going to pay me.’

  ‘Jennifer, there was no wrongdoing on my part,’ Donald began. ‘You know perfectly well.’

  ‘Don, say that one more time and I’m going to have to make you strip. I’ll take off my clothes and start to scream rape. So just cut the crap and let’s get down to cases. You owe me eleven months’ salary, bonuses from two Christmases, and the down payment on a larger apartment. You never promised me that last one, but since prices apprec
iated while I was in prison, I’m adding it instead of interest. Consider it the vig.’

  Donald was silent for a minute. ‘What else?’ he asked.

  ‘I want him out of here,’ she said.

  ‘You mean, fired?’ Donald asked, looking at Tom.

  ‘Hey,’ Tom said. But neither of them was paying much attention to him.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Although it’s an interesting idea. I just want him out of here now.’

  ‘Is that really necessary?’ Donald asked calmly.

  ‘Donald, as your counsel, I …’

  ‘Shut up,’ Jennifer told him. She looked directly at Donald. ‘This is not negotiable,’ she said.

  ‘Thomas, would you excuse us?’ Donald said, as smooth as marble and just as hard.

  Tom tried to object but Donald made the movement of his hand that meant no discussion was possible. Slowly, reluctantly, Tom stood and looked at Jennifer, the expression in his eyes the one she had waited for for almost a year: fear. It took all of her willpower not to smile. He stood up and walked hesitantly to the door. She didn’t allow herself to turn around, but she watched Donald’s hand and knew that Tom had tried to speak before he closed the door.

  She sat for a moment and let the silence build. Before prison she never could have tolerated the pressure but now talking to Donald – Don – was NBD. She waited and then waited. He spoke at last. ‘All right, Jennifer. What’s it going to be? I’m not saying that I’m committing to anything but at least let me hear your demands.’

  ‘I don’t look at them as demands, Don,’ she said calmly. And she felt calm. ‘I look at them as choices. Choices for you to make.’ She reached into her purse and took out several dozen pages. She put them at the edge of his desk so he had to put his feet down to get at them. He rifled through them and, though he was famous for his poker face, she thought she saw a flicker of concern. He put the papers down and his feet back up.

  ‘Is that your whole hand?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said. And she told him all of the information that Cher had gathered, along with the corroborating evidence that Lenny Benson and others would give. ‘We’ve been through all the files,’ she said. ‘And accessed your computer. And you’ve been very negligent in the trades you’ve been making in the last year and a half with Peter Grant.’ She handed him the file on those. ‘The SEC will be calling you on that,’ she said. ‘Sooner or later.’

  Donald looked down at the statements. ‘I didn’t do these trades,’ he said.

  ‘And I didn’t do your crime,’ she told him. ‘But I did do your time. Hey, it’s your name, social security number, and your code word. By the way, how is Grendel?’

  ‘My dog?’ he asked. And she saw the light dawn in his eyes. ‘How much more of this stuff is there?’ he asked.

  ‘Plenty,’ she told him. Though in truth her quiver was just about empty. Still, it would serve.

  ‘Jennifer, you know the money isn’t an issue. So what is it you want?’

  She handed her last sheet of paper to him. ‘Gubernatorial pardons for those three inmates. You have their numbers and the pertinent information.’

  ‘Jennifer, one of these women is a murderer. I couldn’t even get you a pardon.’

  ‘You didn’t even try,’ she told him. And when he began to argue she made the hand motion he always used. ‘We’ve had an election since then, and I know that your contributions got him reelected.’

  He stopped. ‘Is that it?’ he asked.

  ‘There’s one more thing,’ she told him, and allowed herself a smile. He waited. ‘About Tom,’ she said.

  52

  Movita Watson

  All that we know who lie in gaol is that the wall is strong.

  Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol

  ‘I don’t like this, Theresa. I don’t like this one bit,’ I said, looking at the paper in my hand. ‘I think this has got to be baaad news!’

  Theresa had the same kinda paper as me and was readin’ it like I was. It was a summons to go to the Warden’s office. I don’t mean an official summons, like to go to court. I mean that the Warden was tellin’ us that we had to come in there. Now I see her nearly every day and if she’s got any news for me of a decent sort, even if it ain’t great, she just tells it to my face or sends someone to bring me up there. But this was a note – handwritten by her, and signed.

  ‘Don’t assume,’ Theresa said. ‘It makes an ass of you and me.’ I swear I almost tole her to take her happy little readin’ away with this worried expression.

  ‘What do you think it could be, Movita?’ Suki asked, holding her baby and an envelope just like ours.

  It was just what I was afraid of. I threw my summons down onto my bunk. ‘You got one, too. I’m almost sure that it has to do with Suki and Christina. That child’s gonna be twelve months old and that’s about the limit for keepin’ her in here. She’s gonna have to let her go.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Suki moaned.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Theresa asked.

  It was all I could do not to cry, seein’ ’em there happy and so much a part of each other. I told Suki my idea as quickly as I could. She went through all kinda expressions on her face as she listened and then broke into tears and hugged Christina to her.

  ‘I know that’s what it’s about,’ she said. ‘I been sick about it.’

  ‘Well you bein’ sick ain’t gonna do no good at all,’ I whispered loudly.

  ‘Then why does she want to see us?’ Theresa asked.

  ‘Obviously ‘cause she don’t want Suki to be by herself,’ I said. It irritated me when Theresa didn’t just listen when I knew somethin’ for sure. ‘It’s like havin’ the family in. She wants us there helpin’ the girl. Me because I went through it with my kids, and you because you’re so damn fulla wisdom.’

  ‘How terrible! Suki’s going to be heartbroken.’ Theresa looked at me with that look she’s got like a helpless animal. For someone who’s always tellin’ others not to give up, she gives up awful fast herself.

  ‘Not if it don’t happen,’ I said. ‘We got to think of some way for her to keep her longer. She’s up for parole in a little over a year.’

  I went over to the sink to wash my hands, and got one of those pangs that I always get over my own kids. Damn it all to hell, I thought, it never changes. I’m always wantin’ so bad what I can never have.

  ‘I think we should tell the Warden that Christina is sick,’ I said, turning around to Suki and Theresa, ‘and that for the time bein’ she needs to stay with her mother.’

  Theresa looked at me and then the baby, real doubtful. ‘That child is the picture of health,’ she said.

  ‘Sick children don’t always look bad,’ I answered. ‘Besides, the way I see it, the Warden favors Christina and Suki both and if she could think of an excuse to help keep the baby in here, she would do it. We just got to give her one.’

  ‘But a doctor is going to have to see the baby. And you can’t fool a doctor,’ Suki cried.

  I snorted. As if. ‘Yes, you can,’ I said, tucking my shirt in. ‘The child can’t speak, so you’ll just say that she has some kinda symptoms during the night, like cramps or something.’

  Theresa shook her head. ‘I don’t know …’ she said.

  ‘Theresa,’ I warned, ‘we gotta try. That child is still just a baby and needs to be with her mother. It’s barbaric to separate ‘em and you know it. The Warden knows it. Now c’mon!’

  We called Officer Mowbry over and told her we were ready to go. She unlocked the door and we all walked to Warden Harding’s office, but we walked real slow, like it was the last mile. During the time we did, I tried to think of more possible symptoms we could say that Christina had. I was rememberin’ my own kids’ problems, like with teethin’ and colds and stuff, but none a that was serious.

  Suki started to cry and that started Christina fussin’. Which was no bad thing, if Suki would shut up.

  ‘Now stop that,’ I tole her. ‘Act like it�
��s all a surprise. And you gotta think a some way that Christina’s sick.’

  Suki just kept on cryin’. By this time not only her and Christina but Theresa had tears in her eyes, too. We were a miserable-lookin’ group when Warden Harding opened her door and asked us to come in. We walked in like goin’ to the gallows. And then the confusin’ thing was that the Warden herself looked happier than the day we got the prison back from them JRU bastards. She just started cooin’ at Christina, which I thought was a damn cold thing to do, considering she was about to see her handed off to foster care.

  ‘How’s my favorite little girl?’ she asked, lookin’ at the baby and positively radiatin’ happiness. I was about to scream, thinkin’ that maybe the Warden liked the idea of Christina leavin’ the prison.

  The Warden gave Christina back to Suki and sat down. She looked at all of us, still smilin’ like crazy.

  ‘I have news for all of you,’ she said. ‘Very important and very good news.’

  None of us said a word or moved a muscle. I swear, even that baby was still. What could it be? ‘Our friend Jennifer Spencer has done it again,’ the Warden said. ‘She has secured unconditional pardons from the governor for all three of you.’

  I musta been crazy right at that moment. I know it’s a sin to admit, but I got a feelin’ of terrible, terrible sadness, thinkin’ that the three was Theresa and Suki and Christina, and that only I was goin’ to stay there forever. But the Warden was smilin’ at me most of all, and there were tears in her eyes, but not of sadness.

  ‘You too, Movita,’ she said, as if she read my mind. ‘You’re free to go home.’

  I have never in my life felt anything like I did that moment in that office, not even when I was sentenced to life without parole by the judge. It was as if what the Warden said had to go through my whole body, like a physical thing, before I could even hear it. It started at my shoulders and moved down my arms like some kinda pain. Then my legs were weak and I couldn’t a stood if I had to, and then it went to my stomach and I bent over in the chair and felt as if I was goin’ to be sick. Then finally it went to my head and I heard the words. But I didn’t believe them. I got the horrible thought that she was just lyin’ to me.