Corridor Man 6: Exit Strategy

by Nick James

  “Like I said, don’t worry about it. Hey, great meal by the way. Say, you had mentioned something about an email you sent when you got so drunk the last time we were…”

  “God, I’m so sorry. I, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. That wasn’t the reason you didn’t…”

  “No, come on. Forget it, you were fantastic. I just wondered if you ever got the email thing straightened out,” he said just as an image of Bennett Hinz and his desk covered with trust fund spread sheets flashed in his mind.

  “Let’s just say what I wanted to accomplish is taking a lot longer than I hoped it would and it’s my own damn fault. I hope to hear everything worked out in the next few days and then I’ll be happy, maybe. Honest to God, Bobby, next time I have a glass of wine I’m going to ask you to hide my computer first, it’s just trouble.”

  “You miss it, the wine?” he said taking a sip and sort of swirling his glass for half a moment to see if he could entice her.

  “Miss it? No, not really. I mean there are those moments, you know. Like if I’m watching TV and I think ‘Gee, a glass of wine would be nice’. Or tonight, when you poured your glass I was thinking, ‘What the hell, one won’t hurt’. Problem is, it won’t be one. I’ll have a couple and suddenly, at least calorie-wise, it’s like having another meal.”

  “You’re not going anorexic on me all of a sudden, are you?”

  “Hardly, it’s just better if I don’t have any wine, well, or alcohol for that matter, at least for a while. You okay with that? You don’t think I’m turning into a party-pooper, do you?”

  “It’s not an issue on my end. I was just curious is all. I guess it’s just a little different than I’m used to.”

  “You like me drunk?”

  “Actually no. I could joke and say I like you just drunk enough so you can’t testify, but like all of us, if you have too much to drink there’s that chance that an interior switch goes off and suddenly you’d rather argue. I can be the same way, it’s not just you. Everyone is like that.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, really, it’s not a problem. You don’t want to drink, I’m just fine with that, so relax.

  “Thanks. Besides, if I was loaded I might not be able to recall that fantastic reaming you gave me out in the entryway. And believe me, that’s something I’m never going to forget. Talk about an Olympic performance.”

  “Glad you enjoyed yourself.”

  “Wasn’t it obvious? I’m afraid the neighbors would have heard me if they were home. Fortunately, they’re not. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Very. And you are very good.”

  “Hope you’re not just saying that.”

  They watched the ten o’clock news, Emily on the couch upstairs in the den, Bobby in the chair Bennett had been sitting in when he’d watched the two of them. The third story on the news was about police being called to a burning vehicle behind an abandoned grain elevator. The video image showed what was left of a windowless van with a carrier rack on top. Police were asking for anyone with information to please contact them. Bobby thought about that, the windowless van with the carrier rack. He wondered what had happened to the bodies, and made an educated guess that they wouldn’t have been left in the van.

  They were in bed just twenty minutes later and had a similar experience to their workout on the entryway floor. Emily finally called a halt to things after a good half hour. He rolled onto her again sometime in the middle of the night and she actually fought him off after four or five minutes. When he woke her just about sunrise, she gave him a definite no, then slipped beneath the sheets and worked him orally, only to crawl back up after ten or fifteen minutes.

  “Okay, Iron Man, did you take some sort of super Viagra or a numbing agent or something? I’m worn out all over. Not a complaint by the way, but believe me, I’m going to need a day or two to recover and you haven’t…”

  “Maybe it’s just stress, I don’t know.”

  “Everything all right, baby?”

  “Yeah, fine, no worries.”

  “Well, it’s been wonderful from my side, at least to a point,” she laughed. “Maybe we could just snuggle.”

  “Yeah, fine. I’ve got a meeting this morning so I have to leave at a little after eight. I’m not going to wake you if you’re asleep.”

  “Good, because like I said, I’m going to need a day or two to rest up.” She snuggled up next to him and was back asleep in thirty seconds, breathing deeply.

  Chapter Four

  Later that morning Miguel dropped Bobby off at the office. Tommy walked him to the elevators, waved Dalton’s ring at him, and smiled just as the elevator doors closed. When he stepped off the elevator, Bobby got a strange look from Marci. Fortunately, she was involved in a phone conversation, explaining to whomever was on the other end of the line that the person they wanted to talk to was unavailable. Unable to wish Bobby ‘good morning’ in a tone that implied at least a thousand other things, she greeted him with an unsmiling nod then stared as he passed by.

  He walked to his office expecting to make note of the heads peeking out from a number of cubicles as he passed by, but today, no one bothered to look, at least as far as he could tell. He opened his office door, went online to check his email, then turned off his computer and headed for the file room.

  Dorsey was in the file room with his back to the door. He appeared to be working his way through a two-foot-high stack of files, refiling them one at a time. He turned as Bobby closed the door.

  “Oh, you’re back. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back,” he joked. “Hope it was okay, but I left your files out on the reading desk. I locked the room up, of course, but I didn’t know if you had them marked or set up some way so I just left them alone.”

  “No, that’s just fine, Mike I appreciate you putting up with my mess. Hey, is there a meeting or something going on? It seems awfully quiet out there in the office.”

  “God, you should have seen it yesterday afternoon. Could have cut the tension with a knife. The powers that be, the partners, were yelling at one another, stomping back and forth to each other’s office. I’m not sure what was going on. I’m just glad I could stay in here, close the door and wasn’t involved in it.”

  “The partners?”

  “Yeah, believe me, it was not fun. A lot of raised voices, tempers flaring, some not so nice words.”

  “What was the problem?”

  “I don’t know, of course there’s tons of speculation, but no one really has any idea. It’s still going on. You didn’t feel the tension when you came in this morning? God you can cut it with a knife out there. They were going at it again a little earlier, seems to have quieted down now, at least for the time being. I mean it was ugly.”

  “I was just glad I made it past Marci without getting the third degree. Coming in, the place just seemed awfully quiet. Usually there’s someone peeking out of a cubicle or laughing in the break room.”

  “It’s kind of like working in a mine field. Even Mr. Hinz was raising his voice earlier. I’ve never known that to happen before.”

  They chatted for a few minutes, Bobby didn’t learn anything more and settled back into the chair at the reading desk. Later on, he gave Dorsey some cash to buy them both a Subway sandwich and Cokes. He worked through the lunch hour, going over a series of files.

  It was early afternoon when he heard the raised voices. At first he tried to ignore them but they kept going on and on and he finally stepped out of the reading room to see what was happening. The voices, they were literally shouting by now, were coming from Bennett’s office. All the other office doors were closed, no one was in sight, anywhere. The yelling back and forth continued.

  “No, I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again, absolutely not, damn it. I will not stand for it.” This from Sawyer who was standing in the doorway of Bennett’s office as Bobby approached. He could see him thrusting his finger at someone, probably Bennett. The back of Sawyer’s neck was b
eet red as he shouted.

  “Have either one of you listened to a damn thing I’ve been saying? There isn’t any other option.”

  “What you’re proposing is liable to sink us. It’s suicide. We’ll become the laughing stock of the entire legal community. We’ll be tarred with the same damn brush and we haven’t done a thing,” Sawyer shouted.

  “But not doing a damn thing and hoping the problem will simply go away is going to sink us for sure. We simply have to act. If you have a better option I’m certainly all ears,” Bennet shouted back.

  “A better option? It’s bit late for that now. Maybe you should have thought about that before you ran off with this tramp. Maybe you should have thought about the firm rather than your peculiar needs,” Allen shouted.

  Bobby approached Bennett’s office. He addressed Sawyer, standing in the doorway, making sure he was loud enough for others to hear. “Excuse me, gentleman. We’re all trying to work here. I don’t know what the problem is,” he lied, knowing it had to be Emily. “But certainly there must be a better way. Please, can everyone just calm down and…”

  Sawyer wheeled with glaring eyes. “Perfect. Absolutely, God damned, perfect. The voice of reason in this high priced whore situation, from some disbarred son-of-a-bitch who has no problem bringing the criminal element into our office. The two of you are a team.”

  “Now hold on there,” Allen said. Bobby could see him standing in front of Bennett’s desk. He had lowered his voice from a scream back down to the booming level. His tie was undone and he looked like he’d been up for about thirty-six hours straight… wrinkled suit, unkempt hair, face just as flushed as Sawyer’s.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, would you just shut the hell up? Trying to reason with these two? He’s been a contributing factor to our problems since day one. At least Noah Denton had the decency to keep things under wraps.”

  “Now both of you listen to me. I won’t have that kind of talk here,” Bennett shouted.

  “Won’t have it, or just don’t have the balls to say anything? And you’re a fine one to talk about what you won’t have. How about this? I’ve got the last thirty-seven years of my life invested in this firm, working day and night, seven days a week and you, along with your little friend here fucked it all right out the window. Literally.”

  Bennett picked up a thin file, clutched it in his hand, and shook it angrily at Sawyer. “I’ve signed it, the settlement, I’m the Director. I hold the majority of shares in this firm. You’re always there first in line, Charlie with your hand out when it’s time for the partnership distribution. But now, when we could use, no need, your backing, all you can do is shake your head no, stand there sniveling and…”

  “Now, Bennett, that’s really not helping,” Allen said.

  “Shut up the both of you and get out,” Bennett said. “Go on, get out,” he shouted. “Get the hell out of my office! I’ve had enough, the matter is settled. Go on, you heard me.”

  “Bennett, we’ll go when we’re good and ready and not a moment before,” Sawyer said taking a step toward Bennett and pointing an accusing finger. “And right now, I’m not feeling very good and I’m certainly not ready, you spoiled little rich son of a…”

  Bennett tore open his desk drawer, shoved the thin file in the drawer then fumbled around for a second or two before he pulled out a pistol. It was chrome, shiny, with white handgrips, maybe ivory, but probably pearl. He waved it first at Sawyer, then Allen, both of whom were suddenly frozen in place. He glared and his lips seemed to tremble for a brief moment. “Get the hell out of here the both of you, go on, get out of my sight.”

  “Whoa, Bennett, don’t act a bigger fool than you already have. Put that damn thing a…”

  The shot seemed to echo through the office and Sawyer suddenly bolted from the door, pushing Bobby aside as he ran down the hallway, shouting, “Everyone out, everyone out, he’s crazy. Get out, Bennett’s got a gun! Run, run! Run for your lives.”

  Screams began to echo out in the paralegal area as people hurried toward the elevator.

  “Easy, Bennett, easy, I’m leaving,” Allen said. His hands were raised to shoulder height as he made his way toward the door, picking up the pace with every step. Once he got to the door he gave Bobby a quick look then literally ran toward the elevator. Bobby was aware of one or two people looking out and over their cubicles. Just about everyone else appeared to be hurrying toward the elevator.

  “Jesus, Bennett,” Bobby said, then stepped inside and closed the office door. It was strange, but he suddenly felt completely at ease. “What the hell got into those two?”

  “Bastards have been taking more than they put into the firm for years. For years, damn it. I pledged everything, my funds, my inheritance, all of it to get this up and running and now they have the temerity to say they won’t back me. Me! Damn it, when I need them the most they turned their backs on me without so much as a second thought. Well, I got news for them. The God damned party’s over. You hear me, Custer, it’s over, over. They can scream and bitch all they want but I’ve made the decision. Me! And at the end of the day I’m the only one that counts.”

  He reached into the drawer and pulled the thin file back out. “I signed that thing and now the two of them can be damned. Damned just like me. Oh, Christ, you fucking idiot,” he half-screamed then fired three rounds at his reflection in the floor to ceiling window next to his desk. The glass cracked into thousands of tiny pieces, like a damaged windshield, yet remained in place. He dropped the document on his desk, then sort of slumped his shoulders and started sobbing.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, what the hell was I thinking? God. What did I do? My, my father would be so ashamed of me. I’ve ruined it all, the business, the firm, my marriage. What, what’s going to happen to us, Custer? What in the hell was I thinking?”

  The noise from the street sixteen stories below seeped through the three bullet holes in the glass and seemed to draw Bennett toward the window. He stood there with both hands against the wall, one either side of the window. He still held the chrome pistol in his right hand, and it suddenly appeared oversized and heavy.

  “Look at all of them down there. Is anyone a bigger fool than me today? Are they, Custer? Tell me, damn it, are they? Christ on a cross, what in God’s name was I thinking?”

  The noise drifted up from the street, a distant police siren echoed off the office buildings, it seemed to grow louder, no doubt heading their way. Only a matter of a minute or two before the police would pull up, step into the lobby and then in here.

  “Oh, Christ, I don’t need this bullshit,” Bennett groaned and stared out the window at the street below. The police siren continued to blare for a long moment, sounding like it was just outside, and then all of a sudden it stopped. Bennett stood looking out the shattered window, shaking his head and sobbing very softly.

  “Oh shit, here they come,” Bennett moaned. He turned and looked at Bobby, tears ran down his face. Another siren could be heard in the distance, growing louder as it echoed off the buildings.

  “Here they come? Bennett, are you kidding? God damned shots were fired?” Bobby said. “I’m sure just about everyone called the police. Your partners ran out of here like they were on fire. The entire staff has already fled the office. I’m guessing the cops will be coming for you, Bennett. What the hell were you thinking? Shooting a damn gun?”

  “I, I…”

  “You’re right, Bennett you’ve gone and made a bad situation even worse, you…”

  “They said they wouldn’t agree,” Bennett shouted. “Said I could just get screwed after I’m the one who’s been paying the freight for all these years. Said it served me right, those two bastards turned on me when I needed them the most. Now what in the hell am I supposed do?”

  The second siren was suddenly very loud, probably pulling up in front of the building. The sound echoed back and forth off the buildings then it suddenly stopped, and the only sound was a sort of relaxing hum of traffic sixteen sto
ries below and the occasional honk of a car horn.

  “Well,” Bobby said, slowly coming around the side of the desk. “Look, Bennett, there’s always a way out. You’re a smart guy, maybe you can smooth things over with the cops. You know talk with them, maybe tell them it was all a big mistake.”

  “You think?” Bennett said, looking up, grasping for straws. He continued to stand in front of the fractured window, but looked over his shoulder as Bobby approached, appearing just a little bit hopeful. “You think they might listen to me? Think we could talk our way out of this? You know, if you could just vouch for me, say it was all just a misunderstanding.”

  “Sure, Bennett. Look, you should just go down there and talk to them. Go on down so they don’t have to make the trip up here, let them know there isn’t a problem, it was just a little misunderstanding is all,” Bobby said and then in the next second he placed both hands on Bennett’s shoulders and shoved with all his might.

  “No! What? Wait, wait,” Bennett screamed as he sailed through the fractured glass and down sixteen stories. As Bobby watched out the window, Bennett’s legs and arms moved as if he was running in midair, trying to control the movement, all the while hurtling downward in a blizzard of broken particles of glass. There was a simultaneous crashing sound and a loud thump. A car horn suddenly blared and didn’t stop. Bits of shattered glass from the window rained down on the sidewalk below. Papers and files were sucked out the window fluttering on a soft breeze, slowly drifting down the street like giant snowflakes.

  Bobby quickly checked to make sure the office door was still closed, then rifled through the paperwork laying on Bennett’s desk. He removed the document from the thin file Bennett had waved around just a few minutes earlier. Without even looking at it he folded it in half, then stuffed it in the inside pocket of his suit coat.

  He suddenly heard noises coming from out in the main office. “This way,” someone called.