The director already felt he was in over his intellectual head. He declined to push the matter until he could regroup. “Fair enough. Will you still be speaking with the publisher?”
Lishan simply smiled as she headed toward the door.
20
Friday afternoon, Lishan began setting her sights on the weekend—a much needed respite. As she walked up the stairs to her desk, her cell phone rang. It was Kathy.
Lishan couldn’t answer it quickly enough. “Kathy. Is she okay?”
“They moved her out of ICU last night. We got a private room so I could stay with her. She woke up.” Kathy’s tears were audible. “We don’t know yet the extent of the damage. Kidneys? Lungs? Brain? But the doctor was more encouraging this morning. I thought you should know.”
Lishan’s eyes filled. “Thank God. Kathy, I’m so glad you called. Can I bring you anything?”
“No, but thank you. My sister is here for the day. You take care of yourself, okay. I’ll keep you posted. Go after Jack Conner. For all three of us.”
Lishan stayed in the stairwell for several minutes, not wanting her tears to tell a story, any story, as she entered the newsroom. After several minutes at her desk, her desk phone rang. O’Brannigan needed to see her again in his office. Lishan took a breath and headed upstairs. She noticed Jerry’s absence from the newsroom as she left.
Entering the executive offices, she headed toward O’Brannigan’s and found the door open. There she found Jerry and the publisher, seated and waiting. O’Brannigan stood and closed the door.
Lishan could feel her adrenals kicking in. This was likely her last day at the paper, unless she was convincing.
Elizabeth Walker gave Lishan a weak smile. That told Lishan she was worried. Lishan hadn’t filled in Ms. Walker about the incident, using her bluff with the HR director as just that—a bluff. She thought it unnecessary to follow through.
“I imagine you know why we’re all gathered here?” A smug look spread across Jerry’s face. He could hardly contain his glee, causing the publisher to give him a condemning glare.
Lishan finally answered. “Yes. You’re attempting to fire me.”
Jerry barely suppressed a nod.
The director continued. “Now, Ms. Amir, you shouldn’t make such an assumption. I…”
“Why not? After our last meeting, you essentially accused me of falsifying documents, something about my leaving off a felony.”
“Then you admit to having a felony in your record?”
“Did your findings prove that I was lying?” Lishan retained a level of confidence the others didn’t expect.
“Well, yes.” O’Brannigan began to perspire. He didn’t like the feel of the proceedings. “We show here that you did a stint in juvenile hall, at the age of seventeen, as an accomplice in a drug deal. We have sources that indicate a felony judgment was entered.”
“When you state sources, you must mean the confidential information I shared with Employee Assistance therapist Stella Fendwell, that she ultimately—and, illegally, I might add—shared with editor Hanson.”
“That is quite an accusation, Ms. Amir. Can you prove it?”
“Do I understand that you merely have hearsay at this point? Can I see the document that states I was convicted of a felony?”
“Ms. Amir, were you or were you not convicted of a felony?”
Lishan paused, thinking.
“Lishan?” It was Jerry. “We just want what’s best for all concerned, and we have our rules.”
Lishan still remained quiet.
“Lishan.” This time it was Elizabeth Walker. “All we’re looking for is the truth.” She was soft and kind in her delivery.
“Thank you, Ms. Walker. You are looking for the truth. The others present are merely seeking to prove my guilt, which doesn’t exist.” Lishan stood. Looking at the others, she continued. “My entire life—apart from perhaps six months at the age of seventeen—has been led with honesty and integrity. You have nothing—nothing—showing that I was convicted of a felony. Because I never was. All you have is word of mouth—a deliberate and inaccurate leak from Stella Fendwell to editor Hanson. She misconstrued my comment about a felony, because I hadn’t finished my sentence. There was no felony. The authorities, at that time, questioned if my actions could be considered a felony, but there was a one hundred percent agreement that my small part in the affair was not felonious, that it was manipulated by a twenty-one--year-old adult, and that I, as a minor with an outstanding community service record, was to be released. I was never formally charged, never tried. End of story”
Elizabeth Walker stood, barely holding her anger in check. Looking at both Hanson and O’Brannigan, she asked, “Is this true? You don’t have any verifiable documents showing that Ms. Amir was convicted of a felony? And, I might add, spending time in juvenile hall is not to be held against someone. I myself spent one month in a hall at the age of seventeen for running away from a dysfunctional home.”
The two men shifted uncomfortably in their seats, looking toward the door.
“Answer me. Hanson?”
“I have nothing.”
“O’Brannigan?”
“This was not my doing. Hanson…”
“O’Brannigan!”
“No. I have no documents.”
The publisher headed toward the door. Stopping, she turned her taut face toward the two men, one at a time. “There will be repercussions. Mark my word. This issue—as far as Lishan Amir is concerned—is closed. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Lishan?” The publisher motioned her to accompany her out the door. As they cleared the door, the publisher turned toward Hanson, who hadn’t budged. “Well? Don’t you have something…constructive…to do?”
Hanson stood and quickly squeezed past the two women, heading down the stairs and hopefully, he thought, out of sight.
“My apologies, Lishan. You shouldn’t ever be subjected to such treatment. Close up shop for the day. Take Monday off. See you on Tuesday.”
21
3:10 p.m. Lishan was back in her apartment. She wanted to spend time looking through the Frazier book, but it was nowhere to be found. Had she left it somewhere? If she’d somehow lost it, it would be hard to replace. She felt a little sick.
Text, outbox: “Erik. I have much to share with you. I’m not at my best this week, so if you’re in a bad mood, I don’t have enough energy for both of us. What do you think?”
Erik knocked on her door ten minutes later. “I’m doing okay. Not my best week, either. But I had to check on you. I know you tried to tell me something yesterday.” He was annoyed by her “bad mood” comment, but somehow he managed to rise above it.
“And I wanted to this morning.”
Erik said nothing.
Lishan still felt hurt by Erik’s seeming lack of caring over the past forty-eight hours. She would bring up the poisoning when she was ready.
“Did I leave a book in your apartment? It was written by a guy named Frazier.”
“Hmm. No. Tell me more about it.”
The story about the reference librarian unfolded.
“It sounds familiar,” Erik said. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Eric returned from his apartment, a book in hand. Sitting down close to her, he handed it to her without a word. It was Lishan’s missing book.
Lishan was wide-eyed. “My God...dess! Where did you get this? Did I leave it at your place?”
“No. It was a front-page story in two metro newspapers a few years ago. I borrowed one from the library but didn’t return it. I think the library forgot about it, and so did I. I didn’t remember the author’s name when you mentioned it. You can have it.”
Lishan didn’t know what to think. This was just too much coincidence for her. Was Erik playing her? Had she inadvertently left it at his place and then he decided to just shelve it without telling her? He had been angry with her recently.
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“Well, uh, thank you.” Lishan paused, her face muscles tightening slightly. “Are you sure this isn’t mine?”
Erik stood. “Why would I tell you it’s mine if it was yours, Lishan? Are you insinuating I lied?” His breathing quickened.
“Look, Erik, I wouldn’t think you would lie to me, unless you were angry with me. There aren’t many copies of the book in circulation, so I…”
“You do think I would lie to you. You know, I have some work to do. Why don’t we meet up a bit later?” He glared at her, not believing what he was hearing.
“Fine. What time?”
Ice hung between them.
“Five thirty, at my apartment.”
His departure happened quickly. They were both angry. Now what? she thought.
- - -
At 5:30, Lishan knocked gently on Erik’s door. Erik stepped back to let Lishan in, giving her a brief hug to help break the tension.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I made a salad, and I have another favorite of yours—Potomac Pale Ale. Also, you’re forgiven, about Rafael staying over, in case it was on your mind.”
Lishan exhaled, then gave an accepting smile. She knew that other men—“extraneous,” Erik called them—caused him a certain pain. She admired his strength. As she settled back into the loveseat, the pale ale and the pizza he ordered comforted her. He did know her, didn’t he? He always had her interests at heart.
“Thank you. About Rafael. And the book. I’m sorry, too.” The reappearance of the book, so quickly, still bothered her, but she knew she had to set her concern aside for now.
Within a few minutes, the earlier tension seemed to have quieted.
“Erik?”
His face drained. He had too much bad news delivered his way.
“I believe I’m in danger,” she continued. “Someone tried to poison me yesterday.”
A pallor replaced any remaining color. “Tell me.” He was listening. Intent.
After Lishan told the salient points, they both sat back, quiet. Lishan looked around the flat. She had always liked Erik’s taste in furnishings—Klimt’s “Kiss” framed his headboard. Picasso’s “Girl With a Mandolin,” and a few Matisses rounded out his collection. Lishan was the first to break the silence.
“It may just be a warning. We don’t know that Conner wants me dead. If I don’t make any more trouble for him, maybe he’ll just drop it.”
“Maybe,” Erik said, weakly. “Maybe not. The problem is, how will he know you won’t make any more trouble? And could you live with that, letting him continue to get away with whatever he wants? Your well-being is my first concern, but we still have to ask the hard questions.”
“I suppose we could see how it plays out in the days ahead. Weeks, maybe. But you’re right. I don’t plan on letting it go, but I would prefer not to pay for it with my life or the life of any of my close family or friends.”
“Okay. So we’ll play it safe for now. What do you think?”
They busied themselves devouring the pizza in addition to popping another couple of beers.
Erik wanted to forget about Rafael, to make light of what he thought was Lishan’s philandering. It was an issue that was heavy in his heart, but he knew he needed to let Lishan relax, feel off the hook. Still, it was an itch.
Erik put on a smile, trying his best to be lighthearted. “Sometime I want you to tell me all about that gigolo who corralled you last night. I’ll scratch his...”
Lishan just blinked, her way of not lending any weight to his comment.
Erik pretended to extend his claws, followed by a warm smile.
“Do you like seeing Rafael?” Erik decided to get it over with.
Lishan drew a long breath that resulted in an equally long exhale. “I thought I did, but I don’t feel I can trust him. Can we address it later? I’m done with men, for now—except you, of course.”
As a distraction, Lishan opened the Frazier book. She had brought it with her. They read passages from it, pulling up what they could from the Internet, trying to understand how the case against Frazier could have held water. In the process, Lishan presented her thoughts on writing a second exposé that focused more on the FDA.
“Okay, so I have some ideas about the FDA and why they sometimes wear the antagonist hat. But I need to think carefully about this,” she continued. “That is, I’m grateful for their presence, but their inequities are just too glaring. In your opinion, where do I place the fulcrum?”
“Work from the premise that the FDA, the granddaddy food companies, and the conglomerate pharmaceutical CEOs are all in bed together—there’s an image for a political cartoon. Throw in a few senators, perhaps more than a few. Then, draw the public in with who gets, uh—can I cuss?”
“Erik, you wouldn’t! Girl that I am.” Lishan smiled, as though she had just thought of something dreadfully funny. “Fucked? Isn’t that it? Who gets fucked? No, you can’t. Cuss.” She stole a sip of his beer, grabbing a napkin as a couple of drops slipped through her smile.
For a moment, their laughter caught on, causing their eyes to glisten. Lishan could feel a slight flush in her cheeks. After all, he was her professor at one time.
Erik lightly touched Lishan’s knee.
“Yes. By and large, it’s common knowledge. But there’s so much apathy in the States that the government pretty much feels immune to its own notoriety, to the negative publicity. They know most of the public just wants their oil, their TVs, their Internet connections, no matter the price. So the government isn’t too worried. But I feel it’s changing. Slowly. But changing. Look at Martha Stewart. Look at Liddy. There are some big names that didn’t avoid the gallows. What irks me is the government still isn’t too concerned. Yes, we see some purging, some tweaking, but it’s largely surface. Same thing with the FDA, or Conner. It’s just unfortunate that our species is so greedy.”
“To a caring and compassionate species. Ours. Someday?” Lishan raised her glass again.
“To a dreamer, more like it.” He laughed again, to the tink of glass. “Just kidding. Mostly.”
After a notable silence, Erik thought he detected a drift in Lishan’s attention. “Are you okay, Lishan?”
Lishan had grown somber.
“Hmm. Yes. It’s just that I’m concerned. I’ve never before put my career, or my health, or my life in danger.”
Erik didn’t hold back. “We need to talk further about this. Not tomorrow. Let me get some snacks for us, then figure this out.”
Erik stood and headed to the kitchen. “Care for a soda?”
Lishan opted out when she saw the can. “That has aspartame in it. Do you know how much obesity has been directly attributed to this artificial sweetener?”
Erik contemplated his options for a few seconds then returned to the kitchen and emptied the cola down the drain.
Erik came back to her side with just cheese and crackers. “I understand. This is important to you—as it should be.”
She stood, pacing. “You know, the Delaney clause in the Food Additives Amendment stated that any additive that caused cancer in humans or animals had to be prohibited. But the public outcry against having its chemical sweetener saccharin eliminated caused the FDA to lose its case. Saccharin and other artificial sweeteners remain—unfortunately.”
“I remember,” Erik said, then redirected the conversation. “Can we talk about your safety? We can’t overlook a thing.”
Lishan spent the next half hour describing anything of relevance.
“Do you think you’re safe in your apartment, given the poisoning?”
“I don’t know. It seems risky on their part to come straight to my apartment. I think it’s okay, for now.”
Erik hesitated. “I don’t know, either, but we can’t take a chance. Do you want to stay here?”
Lishan thought for a moment. “I could, but what if we both go check out my apartment. If it looks okay, with the windows and doors bolted shut, I should be alright.”
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Erik wasn’t completely happy with the idea, but he decided to go along with it.
22
After a few minutes alone in her apartment, Lishan began feeling edgy, almost trapped. On a whim, she decided it was time to head to the Cove, a retreat she hadn’t indulged in since last spring. Her grandparents on her mother’s side had left their cabin to remaining family. It was a small, two-bedroom log cabin and boathouse on Cook Point Cove, a somewhat isolated area off the eastern shores of Chesapeake Bay. There, amid a cluster of gulls, she would find the clarity she needed to determine her next steps in her career and her life.
A little over two hours driving time, plus a stop for a light dinner in Cambridge at Jimmie & Nook’s, put Lishan at the cabin. It was dark. One hour later she was fast asleep.
Saturday morning. Lishan’s favorite day of the week. She recalled watching cartoons as a child. It was always a special time in her mind, no matter how old she was. Here, at the Cove, she had no television, no phone that anyone other than family knew about. Her cell phone service didn’t work until she was a mile down the road toward Cambridge, whose developments were pushing ever closer to the Cove with each passing year. Her writing and a good book were her Saturday specials now, after a brisk one-hour run followed by a fistful of nuts and some juice. This combination always got her day off to a good start.
Lishan had a runner’s body. She rarely let a day go by without some form of exercise. Today’s run wasn’t as clearing as it usually was. She kept trying to meditate during the run, but her mind drifted. Could Conner know I’m here? The thought was troubling.
She knew she couldn’t drop her case against Conner and his influence in government. The conviction in her heart as a true journalist, not some underling subscribing to an editor’s ego, drove her decision to keep probing. As to the FDA, she would find a way to get the people riled up just enough to put pressure on the Agency to fully represent the health of the people, not the lobbyists for the food and pharmaceutical industries.
Silence Her Page 11
