Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 04 - Country Comes to Town

by Toni L. P. Kelner

  I had to agree. Our Aunt Daphine had been tormented by a blackmailer a while back, and I didn’t like the idea of anybody having to go through what she had.

  Thaddeous asked, “Do you think he was trying to blackmail the entire company?”

  I said, “He wouldn’t have to. He had three votes already. So all he’d have to do is go after the other three, or make sure that the three votes he had didn’t change.”

  “But how would he find out anything he could blackmail people with?” Michelle wanted to know. “It sounds like nobody trusted him.”

  “Maybe nobody trusted him these days,” I said, “but he’d known these folks ever since college. People in college tend to tell each other secrets, and people do things in college that they might not want known about afterward.”

  “Not you, Laura,” Michelle said, in mock shock.

  “No, of course not,” I said, batting my eyes. “Other than having been a transvestite, a Satanist, and a communist, I’m as pure as the driven snow.”

  That broke them up, which made me think that maybe my reputation was a little too squeaky clean.

  “You’d better not let Vasti hear you say that,” Thaddeous said. “She’s likely to believe you, and she’ll have it spread all over Byerly in no time.”

  “Anyway,” I said, trying to get us back on the subject, “Philip was good at getting confidences out of people. He’d confess something first, and then you’d tell him something. Even though I have to wonder now how many of his confessions were made up out of whole cloth, at the time it was very effective.”

  “You think he planned to blackmail people? That long ago?” Michelle asked.

  “I don’t think so—he just liked knowing things about people.”

  “So you’re thinking that one of those folks he was trying to blackmail killed him instead,” Thaddeous said.

  I nodded, and Michelle’s eyes got bigger and rounder.

  “Jeez,” she said, “if only Roberta had heard more of those conversations. I should have gotten more out of her.”

  “You did just fine,” Thaddeous said firmly. “Better than anybody could be expected to do in their first try at undercover work.”

  “Undercover work,” Michelle said, with a slightly different emphasis. “I like the sound of that.”

  While they made eyes at one another, I thought about something. “Maybe undercover work is just what we need.”

  Thaddeous said, “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning a prospective employee at SSI might hear more than an outsider. When I talked to Vinnie at the visitation, he halfway offered me a job, and I think he was serious. Jessie said something about it, too. Maybe I can get an interview over there, and see what I can find out. Prospective employees are supposed to ask questions.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Michelle said.

  “In fact,” I said, “I think I’ll call him the first thing Monday morning and set up an appointment. Only I’d better call him before I go to work.”

  “Why’s that?” Thaddeous asked.

  “I’d rather not call from the office. Our secretary finds out everything that’s going on, and I don’t want the boss to find out that I’m interviewing.”

  Chapter 14

  I hated having to wait two days to call Vincent, but the next day was Saturday. The three of us tried to come up with something useful to do, but the only suggestion was Thaddeous volunteering to make sure he hadn’t missed any bars. I quickly vetoed that.

  Instead, Michelle and I were forced to show Thaddeous more of Boston. Okay, it wasn’t that bad. We spent Saturday afternoon at the Science Museum, looking at exhibits and watching artificial lightning bolts, and exploring the museum shop, which has some of the best toys I’ve ever seen. Even for big kids like us.

  Saturday night, Michelle insisted that we take in some of Boston’s night life, and though I was afraid it would be awkward for two women and one man to go out, the clubs Michelle picked were so crowded that you couldn’t tell who was dancing with whom anyway.

  Sunday morning we had brunch, but then I begged off. If I was going to interview the next week, I had to put together a résumé and make sure I had a clean suit to wear. Even if I didn’t really want the job, I had to go through the motions.

  Thaddeous and Michelle went to Downtown Crossing, the shopping zone Thaddeous had neglected for his detective work. I had a hunch that Michelle was checking out Thaddeous’s gift-buying talents, but I was happy they were having a good time together.

  With them gone, I had a chance to call Richard and catch him up on all that had happened. It wasn’t that I wanted to ask for his approval before I went looking for Philip’s killer, because that’s not the kind of relationship we have. But I did want to use him as a sounding board, and make sure I wasn’t going off half-cocked.

  As it turned out, Richard had just returned from a matinee performance of Hamlet and promptly launched into a description of it.

  “It was wonderful, Laura,” he said. “A traditional performance, in Elizabethan dress, with sets that were as close as they could get to period. And what a Hamlet! I never saw such aching indecision on anybody’s face.”

  “It does sound wonderful,” I said.

  “What about you and Thaddeous? Are you having a good time?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You’re not still feeling guilty about Philip, are you?”

  “Not exactly.”

  There was a pause. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

  “Actually, we are.” I told him how I had decided to try to find out how Philip had died, and what we had done to get started. When I was finished, there was a long silence, which wasn’t a good sign. Richard isn’t a silent man.

  “Are you still there?” I finally asked.

  “Just struggling with my Neanderthal instincts.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m trying to resist the urge to tell you to stay home and out of danger. And it’s not easy.”

  “Would it help if I told you that I have every intention of being careful?”

  “Probably not,” he said. “That would require me to be rational, and Neanderthals were not known for their rationality.”

  There was another long silence. Then I heard him breathe deeply and say, “Good luck. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “Thank you, Richard.” If he had tried to order me not to look into Philip’s death, I’d have done it anyway, but I honestly don’t know how I’d have reacted if he had asked me not to. I was grateful that I didn’t have to find out. “I’m just glad you don’t think I’m nuts for wanting to do this.”

  “Why would I think you’re nuts? To do so much for Philip after the way he treated you is incredibly noble. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” There was one of those silences that would have been filled with a hug, a kiss, or at least hand-holding if we had been in the same place.

  Then Richard said, “Now, despite those sentiments, I am going to be Neanderthal enough to say that I wish I were there with you.”

  “I’d rather you were here, too, but I don’t think this will wait until you get back. I know I couldn’t live with it until then.”

  “Of course you couldn’t,” he said. “Would it be unforgivably Neanderthal of me to say that I’m glad that Thaddeous is there with you since I can’t be?”

  “Would you be glad if a female relative were here?”

  “Absolutely. Especially if it were Aunt Maggie. No offense to Thaddeous, but she’s probably tougher than he is.”

  “Then no, you’re not being Neanderthal. Just concerned.”

  To distract him from worrying, I then told him about Michelle’s obvious interest in Thaddeous. “The problem is, while it’s plain to me that Michelle likes Thaddeous and that Thaddeous likes Michelle, Thaddeous hasn’t figured out that Michelle likes him, and Michelle can’t figure out what’s taking him so long.”

  “ ‘The c
ourse of true love never did run smooth.’ A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act I, Scene 1. Laura, you’re not playing matchmaker, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “I haven’t had time.”

  “You’re not using this murder thing just as an excuse to get the two of them together, are you?”

  “No, but it is a good way to make sure they spend some time together, don’t you think?”

  “I’m out of town just over a week and my wife is investigating a murder and matchmaking. I don’t know which worries me more.”

  Chapter 15

  When I called SSI the next morning, Vincent said he’d be tickled to death to talk to me about a job. Well, actually he said stuff like “enthused” and “eager to discuss possibilities,” but I knew what he meant. He’d have met with me right away, but I put him off until Tuesday morning so I could come up with an excuse to take time off from my real job.

  Michelle actually had plans of her own that night, so Thaddeous and I stayed home and went to sleep on time for a change. At least, Thaddeous did. I sat up and worried about the interview. I always do that when I’ve got a job interview.

  I don’t like job interviews. You try to write a résumé with no typos, wear something fashionable yet businesslike, show up early but not so early that you look anxious, answer questions with the answers they want to hear, and ask for enough money but not so much that it scares them.

  At the same time, you’re trying to figure out whether or not this is the kind of place you want to work at. Would they give you interesting projects to work on, and respect your opinion, and not expect you to work twenty-hour days, and maybe even give you a pat on the back when you do a good job?

  This time, I guess I was nervous out of habit. It was the first interview I had ever gone on for a job that I flat out didn’t want. All I wanted was to see what I could find out about the inner workings at SSI.

  A woman who had to be Roberta was at the front desk when I walked into SSI the next morning. “Hi!” I said. “My name’s Laura Fleming, and I’ve got a nine-thirty appointment with Mr. Noone.”

  She looked up at me dully for a minute, so I repeated it.

  “I guess I should let him know you’re here.” She called Vinnie, then said, “He’ll be right up.” She went back to her computer without saying anything else.

  No wonder Michelle hadn’t been impressed. In the two or three minutes it took for Vinnie to come get me, Michelle would have found out my marital status, number of children, town of residence, and favorite TV show.

  Vinnie was again dressed to impress, this time in a dark blue suit with an artsy patterned tie that was just this side of flamboyant. “Laura, good to see you again.”

  “Thanks, Vinnie—Vincent.” As sensitive as I am about people calling me Laurie Anne, the least I could do was call him by the name he preferred.

  “Let me show you around,” he said.

  The office was quietly plush, with gray walls and burgundy carpeting. Roberta’s desk was separated by a door from the rest of the office. Beyond that was a corridor lined with doors. Vincent opened the first two to show me a conference room and a smaller room set up for product demonstrations. The next few doors were offices, with name plates outside. I saw Jessie talking on the phone in one office and Murray sitting behind stacks of paper in another. Two neighboring offices were marked “Vincent Noone” and “Inez Parra.”

  At the end of the hall was another door that led into the work area. No offices here, just a big space broken into cubicles with four-foot-tall partitions. From where I was standing, I could see Dee, Dom, Neal, and Sheliah working away—there wasn’t a whole lot of privacy.

  There was a trash can overflowing with pizza boxes just inside the door, and the carpet was mottled with stains. Instead of the tasteful corporate art in mauve and cool blues I had seen in the public areas, the walls back here were covered with Star Trek posters and white boards filled with arcane notations.

  As if he could guess what I was thinking, Vincent said, “We like the programmers to be comfortable.”

  “Uh huh,” I said. Most of the computer companies I know of spend time and money to dress up the areas customers see, but don’t bother in the rooms behind the scenes.

  “Shall we go to my office and talk?” Vincent said.

  He led me back the way we had come to a corner office, complete with windows on two sides and sleek Scandinavian furniture. Vincent’s extravagantly framed MIT diploma was hung above a photo of him in cap and gown. Next to that was a photo of Vincent and three other young men, all wearing college sweatshirts. Vincent’s was from MIT, of course, and the other three were from Harvard, Yale, and Dartmouth.

  “Your brothers?” I asked him. When he nodded, I added, “That’s an impressive collection of degrees. Your parents must be proud of y’all.” Quite a difference from my family. I was the only one in my generation to go to college.

  There was a small, round table in one corner, and Vincent waved me toward one of the chairs next to it and took the chair opposite. “Did you bring me a résumé? Just a formality, of course,” he added, letting me know we were all friends here.

  I pulled a copy out of my rarely used briefcase and handed it to him. We talked business for a few minutes, with my explaining projects I had worked on and his letting me know how that experience would apply to plans at SSI.

  The only tricky part was when Vincent asked why I wanted to leave my current job. I had given this a lot of thought on the way over, wanting to sound sincere without bad-mouthing my company. The computer industry isn’t that big—anything I said here just might find its way back to my boss.

  I said, “I’m not sure I want to leave. It’s just that I’ve been at GBS for several years, and I wanted to get a feel for what else is available. It never pays to get stuck in a rut.”

  “I understand,” Vincent said. “I hope you see SSI as a promising alternative.” He put down my résumé. “This looks good, which is no surprise. I knew you were going to be an excellent worker all those years ago at MIT. And you have the potential for management, unlike many of our comrades with the brass rat.” He fingered the MIT class ring he was wearing.

  I murmured an appropriate thank-you before what he said sank in. The symbol on the MIT class ring is actually a beaver, which makes sense for a school that turns out so many engineers and applied scientists, but somewhere along the line, folks started calling it a brass rat, and that’s what most MIT graduates call their degree. According to Roberta, Philip had threatened Vincent with something to do with a rat. Could it have been his brass rat?

  Fortunately, Vincent had gone into a monologue about the goals of SSI, so he didn’t realize I wasn’t paying attention to him. I focused in again just as he ended his spiel with, “Are there any questions you’d like to ask?”

  This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. “A couple. I’ve been hearing rumors that you’re planning to take SSI public.” I added, “Not from anybody here at SSI,” when he raised his eyebrows. “I just wondered how that would affect the office.”

  “Well, I had been trying to keep the planned stock offering quiet, but it is difficult to keep secrets. The fact is that the only effects I expect are good ones. We’re hoping to expand dramatically, in all areas. You’d be the first of many new hires, and I’d like very much to have you in a supervisory position. Though we have very good programming talent here, there’s little interest in management.”

  In other words, Vincent wanted to move on to bigger things than day-to-day supervising. I couldn’t blame him for that, and management did sound appealing.

  At least, it would have, had I not had other reasons for being there. “This may not be any of my business, but I’m a little concerned about something Philip said. He told me he was being pushed out of the company. Can you give me some background on that?”

  He leaned back in his chair, not looking surprised by the question, but not
looking happy about it, either. “That was awkward,” he admitted. “We were old friends, but Philip wasn’t willing to let this company grow in the direction it needs to.”

  Meaning that like Jessie told me, Philip hadn’t wanted to update StatSys.

  “Nobody was sorrier than I was when I realized that we were going to have to force him out, but he had made some alarming threats about what he might do if SSI went public.”

  That also fit in with what Jessie had said.

  Vincent went on. “I personally spoke with everyone here, and we all agreed that there was really no other choice. And of course, with the recent tragedy, it’s a moot point now.” He looked regretful on cue, just like a funeral director on duty. “Does that reassure you?”

  “To tell you the truth, Vincent, I’m surprised it took as long as it did. Maybe we’re all old friends, but friends and business don’t always mix.”

  Vincent smiled, obviously relieved. “I just hope that’s not true in this case. I want you to come to work at SSI, Laura.”

  There weren’t any more questions I felt I could legitimately ask, so we talked money for a few minutes. I had thought the salary I was requesting was high, giving me an easy way out, but Vincent didn’t even blink. So I had to leave it at, “I’d like some time to think about it.”

  “Could you let me know by the end of the week? I don’t wish to rush you, but we are eager to get things moving.”

  “Absolutely.”

  We shook hands, and he showed me out. Jessie was off the phone and looked up as we passed by. I was going to have to call her soon to let her know what was going on. At least, part of it.

  Chapter 16

  It was nearly lunchtime when I got back to my side of town, so instead of going into work, I stopped at a pay phone in the lobby of our building. “Michelle? This is Laura.”

  “It’s about time!”

  “Has Thaddeous called?”

  “He’s up here waiting for you.”

  “Why don’t the two of you meet me downstairs for lunch so I can tell you what happened?”