The Annex
Page 3
Roman’s soliloquy was cut short by a phone ringing with a long constant brrring that indicated an external call. We looked at each other as we realized that the phone that was ringing was coming from Asher’s old office, which we had still neglected to clean out.
“Anybody wanna get that?” Brian asked.
Without saying a word, I pulled the master key out of my pocket, fumbled momentarily and slipped it into Asher’s lock. The phone was nearing the end of its fourth wring, so I rushed to the desk to beat the voicemail to the punch.
“Gordman, Crucks—”
“Took you long enough to answer. What’s wrong with you guys? Obviously not working very hard over there, are you?”
“Ash?” I could hardly conceal my joy at the sound of his voice.
“Yeah. Listen, I just heard the news.”
“Really? Yeah, it’s terrible, isn’t it? I mean, how do they expect us to move back to the main office after all this time over here? Listen, the guys and I are already looking for other—”
“What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about, Ash?”
“The indictment.”
“All right, Ash. I’ll bite. What indictment?”
“Bernie Gordman was indicted this morning for fraud. You remember that data that you spent months poring over a few years back during that huge utilities audit?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, it turns out that the data you received had been doctored.”
“Yeah, we already know that. That’s why they were in trouble in the first place.”
I could sense impatience in Asher’s voice. “No-no. You don’t understand. All that data that you examined went through Bernie’s hands first. You see, he figured if he could topple a giant company for fraud, he would finally hit the big time. So he tweaked some of their numbers, passed the data along to you, and you found the discrepancies. In reality, aside from a few minor accounting errors, there was no fraud. I’m not sure howthe authorities figured it out. Must have been a tip from someone on the inside. Or at least someone who was on the inside.”
“Ah, very subtle, Ash. Where are you right now?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just fine. You see, I was very close to Gordman at the time, and it didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on. So, when I went to him with the evidence, we struck a deal. He would allow me to stay on indefinitely with the company, with a significant, shall we say, pay raise. But, man, when he sent that wreath to the funeral, and he couldn’t even get Lydia’s name right? Well, that was all I could stand. Oh, and by the way, I got a pretty sweet deal for turning State’s Evidence against Gordman. Some minor obstruction charge is probably all I’ll have to cop to. Most likely probation. Anyway, none of that matters. I need you to go make sure that there is plenty of paper in the FAX machine. My lawyer is sending over some information and some papers for you all to sign. It’s gonna be a pretty long transmission, so make sure that piece of crap doesn’t jam up, okay? Gotta go. You guys take care.”
Click.
* * *
A few minutes later, the FAX machine rang and began receiving. In all, thirty-seven pages were received. The transmission included some papers indicating that The Annex had been purchased by Asher with a substantial amount of cash, presumably from his “settlement” with Gordman. The official owner of the property was some entity called “Lydiacorp Financial.” Immediately following the papers regarding property ownership was a partnership agreement forming Lydiacorp Financial, LLC, naming all five of us as equal, founding partners.
* * *
We never saw Asher again. He passed away a few months after his final phone call. He never made it to trial.
We did, however, receive a final gift from him in the form of a FedEx package that arrived a few days after we opened our new private accounting firm. The box had been shipped from a custom sign shop in Ogunquit, Maine.
The sign smacked of Asher’s dry wit. It read:
Business Hours
Open: When We Get Here
Closed: When We Go Home
We kept those hours faithfully.