Breach of Trust (41 page)
So, not tonight. But maybe soon.
69
I MET BRADY MACALEER IN HIS OFFICE AT NINE THE
next morning. It was hard to square the title on his door—CHIEF OF GOVERNMENT ADMINISTRATION—with the pug-nosed, knuckle-dragging thug sitting behind the desk. His shirt didn’t fit him very well and the tie appeared to be an afterthought. His eyes were once again bloodshot, narrow, and still unfriendly.
next morning. It was hard to square the title on his door—CHIEF OF GOVERNMENT ADMINISTRATION—with the pug-nosed, knuckle-dragging thug sitting behind the desk. His shirt didn’t fit him very well and the tie appeared to be an afterthought. His eyes were once again bloodshot, narrow, and still unfriendly.
“Charlie says you’re stand-up,” he informed me. He said it as if we’d never met, as if we hadn’t talked shop all last night at dinner. He also said it as if, from his standpoint, the jury was still out.
“Me, I don’t know you yet,” he continued. “You see what I’m saying?”
“I think so. You don’t know me yet.”
“And I don’t trust people I don’t know. You see what I’m saying?”
We had two-thirds of a syllogism so far. Wait for it . . .
“So I don’t trust you,” he said.
“I’m glad we cleared that up,” I said.
I didn’t think his eyes could narrow any further, but they did. I think he had the vague notion that he was being insulted. Some people can be very sensitive.
As riveting as this conversation was, Mac segued into a brief discussion of office hierarchy. He held a hand, horizontal, in the air at face level. “This is the governor,” he said. He lowered his hand a notch. “This is Queen Madison,” he said. Then he lowered it again. “This is me.” He lowered it more than a notch—maybe two or three of them, until his hand was almost down at the desk. “This is you,” he said.
“That’s pretty low,” I observed.
“Yeah, and it’s gonna stay like that.” Then, for good measure, he actually repeated the whole idiotic thing. Governor. Madison. Mac. Kolarich.
It occurred to me that I should play nice with this guy, seeing as how I was supposed to get close with everyone in the inner circle and uncover secret truths.
“Could you diagram that on a piece of paper?” I asked. “In case I forget.”
He didn’t think much of that, but his phone rang before he could comment. He spent a lot of time listening and making various grunting noises. By the time he got off, he’d mentally moved on.
“Okay, mister smart guy. We’ve got these people that we want to put in these jobs to make Rick Harmoning happy, and we got these pain-in-the-ass lawyers coming in to tell us why we can’t hire them. They’re going to tell you about veterans’ preferences and people scoring higher and all sorts of lawyer crap, and all of that comes down to, I can’t do what I want. And I wanna do what I want. Right?”
“Sure.”
“So these guys are going to come in, they’re going to give you the lawyer rap, and then you’re going to figure out how to get my guys those jobs. Right?”
“Right,” I said. “You’re the man.”
AND MAC WAS ESSENTIALLY
correct in his prediction. We met with a guy named Gordon. I couldn’t remember if that was his first name or last, or maybe he just went by one name like Bono or Madonna. He was a pudgy guy with a shock of black hair on top and droopy cheeks. He was the deputy counsel to the Division of Personnel and Professional Services and Other Assorted Bureaucratic Quagmires, or something like that.
correct in his prediction. We met with a guy named Gordon. I couldn’t remember if that was his first name or last, or maybe he just went by one name like Bono or Madonna. He was a pudgy guy with a shock of black hair on top and droopy cheeks. He was the deputy counsel to the Division of Personnel and Professional Services and Other Assorted Bureaucratic Quagmires, or something like that.
“You’ve got two problems with these jobs,” he said. “First, the veterans’ preferences are absolute. Each of the jobs you’re seeking to fill with these people on this list of yours? They’re right here in the city. There are dozens of veterans up here who are on a list for jobs like these. All of them would start with a preference. You have to consider them first and give them a weighted score.”
“What’s the other problem?” I asked.
“The other problem is that some of these positions, we’ve already taken applications and administered tests, and the people you want for these jobs will have to score higher on the tests.”
I looked over at Mac, who shook his head. Not good. Apparently we weren’t confident relying on the intellectual acuity of the people Harmoning wanted us to hire.
“Veterans are sorted by county?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
“Are there counties with no veterans applying?”
“Are there—well, probably,” he said, thinking about it. “We have over a hundred counties in this state. There are probably counties that don’t have any veteran applicants, yeah.”
“And these five different agencies we’re talking about here,” I said. “Would any of them have offices in those counties without any veteran applicants?”
Gordon blinked at me. “You’re talking about moving the jobs to counties with no veterans applying?”
“I am.” I felt a small pain in my gut just saying it. But it was my role to do this, to fuck over the veterans to get the jobs for these people Madison and Mac wanted hired.
“Well, you can’t—” Gordon looked at me and then at Mac. Gordon knew the law, meaning he knew that it was
against
the law to try to skirt the veterans’ preferences. But he also knew that Brady Mac was his boss, and I came from the governor’s office. Each of us outranked him.
against
the law to try to skirt the veterans’ preferences. But he also knew that Brady Mac was his boss, and I came from the governor’s office. Each of us outranked him.
“He’s asking you to check,” Mac said. “Check to see if these jobs can be moved.”
Gordon’s eyebrows arched and met in the middle. He looked at me for assistance. I looked away. I wasn’t enjoying this, not one bit.
“By the end of the day,” said Mac.
“And what if they can’t?” Gordon asked.
“Well, let’s talk about that,” I said. “Suppose we wanted our people in these jobs and we couldn’t locate the jobs in a county without veterans applying. Or suppose other people have already been interviewed and taken tests. How do we do it? How do we get our guys in?”
Gordon shrugged. He didn’t know, or he didn’t want to help us. A sheen of sweat appeared on his wrinkled forehead. The two people in this room who outranked him were asking him how to bend and twist the law. Gordon may have been a bit of a stiff, but he seemed like an honest guy.
“Aren’t there jobs that don’t require tests?” I asked.
“No,” said Gordon. “I mean, other than internships.”
“Internships. You mean, like, college kids?”
Gordon nodded.
“How does the law define an ‘intern’?” I asked.
“It doesn’t.”
“An ‘intern’ is whatever we say it is?”
“Right.”
“We can create an ‘internship’ whenever we want?”
“Well—I guess so. Sure.”
“An ‘intern’ can hold the job indefinitely?”
“I—well, I suppose so. Yes.”
I looked at Mac. He seemed to be following.
“We can pay an ‘intern’ whatever we want?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“So if we turn a job into an internship, we can hire whomever we want and pay them whatever?”
Gordon leaned forward. “But these jobs aren’t internships, Mr. Kolarich. I mean, here.” He looked at the piece of paper. “Associate supervisor for administration in the Board of Education. That’s not an internship.”
“Maybe it is now,” I answered. “I mean, it is if we
say
it is, no?”
say
it is, no?”
Gordon looked like he’d swallowed a bug. By the time he left Mac’s office, he’d stained both of his armpits and probably lost about five pounds of water weight.
“What an asshole, that guy,” Mac said to me. “This guy forget who he’s working for?”
“He’s just doing his job,” I said.
“Yeah, well, let’s see how long he
has
a job.”
has
a job.”
“You’re not going to fire Gordon,” I said.
Mac looked at me. I could see him mentally run through his diagram, himself up at the top, me several notches below. “And why aren’t I going to fire him?”
“Because I said so. You fire him, you fire me.” I opened my hands. “You want to fire me, Mac? Be my guest. I’ll figure this out for you, but you’re not going to run this guy Gordon out of the office. You’re not.”
I left the office on that note. Looked like I wasn’t going to be counting Brady MacAleer as someone whose trust I would gain. But there was only so much I could tolerate. I began to wonder how long I could wade in the swamp with these assholes.
I FOUND GORDON
in his office an hour later. When he saw me, his posture went rigid. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d peed his pants, too. Fortunately, he was behind his desk.
in his office an hour later. When he saw me, his posture went rigid. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d peed his pants, too. Fortunately, he was behind his desk.
“Listen, Gordon,” I said. “I understand that you were troubled by our conversation. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to write me a memo explaining that we can’t deliberately avoid the veterans’ preference laws. I want you to put it in writing and give it to me and me only.”
He stared at me, a deer in the headlights. “And Mr. MacAleer fires me.”
“No. That’s not going to happen. He’ll never see the memo. Just me. You need to cover yourself.”
Gordon took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Is he—really going to do that? Move the jobs around and create internships?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It won’t be your decision, and I want you to be able to say that it wasn’t your idea. Because it wasn’t. Okay?”
He was off-balance. He didn’t know me. And this kind of stuff, it clearly wasn’t his game. He was a bureaucrat, an honest one.
“It didn’t used to be like this,” he said.
“I know.” I patted the door and walked back to my office.
70
I SPENT THE REST OF THAT DAY AND EVENING REVIEWING
all the state statutes on this stuff, most especially the veterans’ preferences. The next morning, I met with Brady Mac and Madison Koehler in her office.
all the state statutes on this stuff, most especially the veterans’ preferences. The next morning, I met with Brady Mac and Madison Koehler in her office.
“Good news and bad news,” I said.
Madison rubbed her eyes. “The good news first,” she said. I’d have gone the other way.
“The good news is that three of the agencies we need—Transportation, Education, and Corrections—have offices in at least one county where there are no veterans applying. So we could hire these people for jobs in those counties and not have to deal with veterans.”
“What counties?” she asked.
“Two in Norfolk County and one in Summit County.”
“Those are downstate,” she said. “Rick Harmoning’s people live up here. That’s no good.”
“So we hire them for jobs down there and then transfer them, almost immediately, up here. They’ll already have the jobs so we don’t have to deal with veterans’ preferences. A job transfer doesn’t count.”
She looked at me, then Mac, and nodded. “Okay, so for three of the five agencies, we get them jobs by
moving
the jobs to counties without veterans waiting in line.”
moving
the jobs to counties without veterans waiting in line.”
“Right. And then move them back, once the job is theirs.”
She rolled her hand for me to continue. “What about the other two?”
“The other two agencies—Commerce and Community Affairs and Public Health—we’re fucked,” I said. “But we can hire those people as interns.”
“
Interns?
That’s not going to work. These people don’t want minimum-wage contracts. They want full-time employment with a salary and benefits.”
Interns?
That’s not going to work. These people don’t want minimum-wage contracts. They want full-time employment with a salary and benefits.”
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