The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (27 page)
At one time, I promised myself that if I ever had the opportunity to get my foot in the door, I would do everything in my power to hold you, to keep you. But, I didn›t fool myself. I knew. At least I thought I knew that you and Sylvia would somehow always be the perfect couple. Not for a minute was I so naïve as to believe that should something come between you and Sylvia that I would be the natural successor, so I resigned myself to bein’ the best secretary, friend and confidante a man could hope for. So, William, if it’s friendship you desire, you’ll be hard pressed to find a better one.”
When Melinda finished purging her soul, it was apparent that they had happened upon a new found respect for each other. They talked some more at length during dinner. The conversation eventually making its way to the ordeal at the airport. William, despite Shannon’s instructions, told Melinda everything. As he told her the details of the fiasco, Melinda’s eyes welled with tears. When she closed them it was as like floodgates had opened. It was several minutes before she spoke. The words she now spoke were slow, deliberate. It was apparent, she was angry and hurt. William realized at that very moment that he hardly knew her. This was the first time in the six years that he’d known her to be visibly upset.
“I knew something was wrong when the faxes from Davenport mentioned shipments being in route. Yet they never confirmed their arrival. When I questioned Mr. Morris’ secretary, Mia, she told me she knew of no shipments arrivin’ from Davenport Enterprises but promised she would check with Mr. Morris. A little later, say about a week, I received a memo, which said, in fact, that the Davenport account would be handled by Morris, personally, and I should no longer concern myself with this matter. I kept the memo and I kept tabs on all the Davenport accounts the same way I kept a file on every other account to cover myself in case there were any discrepancies later.”
“You may have just saved my life, Melinda.” William jumped up from the dining room table knocking over his glass of
Zinfandel
in the process. “Tell me more, Melinda. Tell me about the memos! Please tell me that you didn’t make a copy and leave them in the office files.” William was ecstatic.
For the first time since his meeting with Terry Shannon and DEA, did he even have a glimmer of hope?
“No, silly. I told you they took the handlin’ of the account out of my hands even though I handle all of your other accounts. That’s why, when Mia sent me the memo statin’ that Mr. Morris was going to handle the Davenport account personally, I knew there was something else stirrin’. Then about a month ago when the old man flew down from Boston to see you and tell you of the Lagos venture; he brought his secretary, Mia. Well, I hadn’t seen her since she transferred to corporate headquarters in Boston, so we decided to make a night of it. In any case, we went out had a couple of drinks and started talkin’ about the
good ol’ days. You know Mia and I go back to Fulton County Community Col
le
g
e
.”
William was becoming impatient. “Melinda, get back to the files.”
“In any case, Mia and I started talkin’ about all the inconsistencies at H and M when she brings up the mystery account. Now, Mia ain’t never been able to drink and I guess we’re on our fourth of fifth,
Long Island Iced Tea
when she starts tellin’ me about this mystery account. Seems Morris told Mia that any correspondence relatin’ to the Davenport account should go directly to him. Mia’s is strugglin’ with the fact that she’s held accountable for every Hill and Morris account Yet, Morris never returns any paperwork, nor any correspondence, billin’ statement, invoice from the biggest account that Hill and Morris handles. And, then, when I mention the tact that I’m missin’ information from the Davenport file, Mia says that the Ol’ Man flew off the handle. She said she’d been with him for close to ten years and she’d never seen him get so angry over something so petty. That’s when I received the memo about Morris handlin’ the Davenport account. Mia lost a lot of respect for the Ol’ Man after that and I think that she forwarded me every single correspondence concernin’ the account just to spite him, I even have requisitions for toilet paper. If it’s got the Davenport
logo
on it, then I’ve got a copy.”
William couldn’t believe that he was hearing. “Melinda, I’ve got one question and one question only. Where are the files? Please tell me you didn’t leave them in the office.”
“Of course not, silly. No one leaves a paper trail anymore. That’s so ‘Seventies’.” Melinda was teasing him. She enjoyed watching William squirm.
“Funny thing about the Davenport account—”
William had had enough. “Melinda, please, spare me the details. Where are the files?”
“Relax, William. I’ve got every Davenport correspondence for the last two-and-a-half year’s right here. I downloaded them onto this floppy disc. All you have to do is insert the floppy, wait for the Davenport icon to appear and double click on the mouse.” Melinda, recognizing the fact that William refused to become computer literate, went through the whole procedure just as she had each day in the office. It was all to no avail. William ignored the procedure, content instead to stare at the computer screen until
Voila!
The Davenport
logo
appeared.
Three hours later, William rose from the easy chair, smiled, yawned, then turned and, without a word, gave Melinda the biggest, tightest, bear hug she had ever received. He then grabbed Melinda’s phone and placed a call to Chief Customs Inspector, Mr. Terry Shannon, to inform him. Terry was almost as elated as William was and they spent the better part of the next hour plotting the best possible course of action. In the end, they decided not to run their plan past Terry’s superiors. Instead, they decided to let nature run its course, letting the chips fall where they may. And then as if by some chance of fate the following day William received a call summoning him to the corporate headquarters in Boston. It was only the third time he’d been summoned to the headquarters since he’d joined Hill and Morris.
The following Thursday, William was to fly to Boston to corporate headquarters and met with Ol’ Man Morris in person. Leery, William had no idea what Morris had up his sleeve this time. The word was he was certain to be offered a senior accounting position; the highest position one could attain outside of being named a junior partner. There was no doubt that the board members, were in direct opposition to having an African-American in the position but that was the word along the grapevine.
Little did Morris know, William wasn’t the least bit concerned about being named senior accountant or partner. If Melinda’s plan worked and Agent Shannon received the OK, there was a good chance Hill and Morris wouldn’t even be in existence a year from now. And even if it was, William was sure he wouldn’t want to be connected with it, let alone have his name associated with a firm that was sure to be under indictment for narcotics trafficking, laundering money as well as numerous other improprieties. William put the final changes on his proposal and walked into his outer office where Melinda was busy putting the final touches on some of William’s more recent proposals.
“Ain’t worked this hard in my entire life,” Melinda commented mostly to herself.
“It’ll all pay off in the end, Melinda. If everything goes according to plan, it will all pay off in the end. Matter-of-fact, I have a meeting with
the
Man now. I should be back in an hour or so.” Melinda knew who
the
Man was. She smiled hoping not to show her concern.
“Hold all my calls and see if you can get any more information on the Davenport account. We should be hearing something any day now. Make sure everything’s in order.”
“Everything’s in order,” Melinda said. The proposal for your two o’clock is right here.” She held up a large manila envelope. “Packets are displayed in the second conference room, the door is locked and, except for Mr. Rivera the janitor, no one else has a key. Mr. Aiello is printin’ your schemata as we speak. He’s already printed a black and white card as you ordered. However, he and I both thought that blue and gold would be much more spectacular a bit more stylish, more in keepin’ with their company
logo
—so much more impressive.
Aside from that, I edited your speech and don’t see any problem with your proposal or presentation. The people from Apple should be ecstatic that they will be able to sell that many personal computers and software to match. They stand to make a bundle. With only a two and a half percent mark up, the Nigerians may name you their next Minister of Education or at the very least, Secretary of Commerce,” Melinda forecasted. “As far as any new developments concernin’ our little problem, I’ll talk to you about that over dinner, if we’re still on for tonight.”
The Wednesday dinners began as a simple meeting to discuss any changes in the Davenport account but had now become a weekly ritual often ending in their retiring to Melinda’s where they’d work until the wee hours of the morning on one proposal or another. William had come to enjoy the routine almost as much as Melinda. Both knew, however, that William, despite his recent success at work, was still very much in love with Sylvia.
Melinda, would all too often, catch him staring off into space or seemingly in deep thought and knew that it was more than simply business which kept him so utterly absorbed in his work and his mind so preoccupied.
William met Terry Shannon at the Lone Star Cafe for lunch. The meeting was brief. Shannon opted to go with Melinda’s plan without authorization, wanting Morris almost as badly as William. Though neither man showed it, Shannon confessed that he hadn’t been this close in years and wasn’t about to be denied due to some bureaucratic red tape. Shannon recognized Melinda’s plan as simple and as a winner. If it unfolded, as he was sure it would, it would do wonders for his career. If it backfired and Morris somehow got wind of the plan or something went awry, there would be hell to pay. With Morris connections and political influence, not only would his career with the government be over, but chances were good that he probably wouldn’t be able to get a job shoveling shit
“Anything new on your end, William?” Shannon inquired.
“Not a damn thing, Terry. Melinda keeps telling me it’s time but so far there haven’t been any faxes from Davenport or Morris. It’s almost as if they’ve been tipped and have decided to go on a hiatus. It’s not as if they’re pressed for cash and have to make a move so we’re just waiting.
There is some good news though. I’m preparing to fly over in a couple of weeks. I have a major software package the Nigerian government seems interested in. And as soon as I receive confirmation, I’ll be on my way. I’m hoping that my trip will sort of force their hand Other than that, the only thing I can come up with is that Morris is waiting on me, so he doesn’t have to use any potentially, incriminating correspondence.”
“He’s a shrewd one, that Morris. He didn’t get where he is making mistakes. The D.E.A.’s had knowledge of Morris’ involvement in the drug trade for close to twenty-three years and has never been able to lay a finger on him. This is the closest we have ever been and we’re still light years away.
I feel confident about it this time, though, William. I really do. Hell, I’ve been on this case for close to twelve years and for the first time I see the possibility of him going down. For years, I’ve had to sit by and watch our kids shoot each other and turn into zombies before my very eyes while fat cats like Morris get rich selling our kids poison. I’m not naive, William. Morris’ arrest may not make a dent in the amount of drugs entering the country but if not part of the solution, well, you know the rest.”
“How’d you ever get involved in drug enforcement, Terry?” William asked. “Dangerous business, isn’t it? Can’t see why anyone would wanna put themselves in the line of fire. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“It’s a long story, William. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Right now’s not the time, though. I’ve gotta head back to the office. Phone me when you get the go ahead And tell Melinda I said hello.”
Both men were on edge but firm in their beliefs. And neither too confident about tackling someone of Morris’ stature. None but Melinda who could barely contain herself.
“Is it a go?” she asked as William entered the conference room at one forty five. William gave her the thumbs up. Melinda grinned like a teenager about to go on her first date. Tem minutes later, she escorted the six Apple representatives and trustees into Conference Room 2B and began taking notes.
William had never been more eloquent in his delivery or clearer with his proposal. After thirty minutes and what seemed like a lifetime of questions from the various reps and board members present, Melinda returned the thumbs up.
Minutes of the meeting were faxed to the Ol’ Man at corporate. Now, was the hardest part, Waiting. Melinda met William later that evening at the Tavern for dinner, and even he had to admit, he had never seen her more glowing or more radiant.
Dressed in a black evening gown showing her dwindling cleavage and a split the length of the San Andreas Fault, William was suddenly aware of just how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.
“Melinda, what can I say? You look fabulous,” he blurted out
No longer was she the pleasantly plump little girl with the great typing skills and Dolly Parton cleavage he’d hired at twenty-one. She was not even the robust twenty-eight year old he watched dance the night away under the moonlight in that tiny African village twenty miles outside of Lagos. Not at all, she had suddenly come of age. Melinda Bailey had become, not in a Piaget stage, but rather all at once—a woman
She, on the other hand, was focused and had one goal in mind. That goal was to escort William Stanton to the top of the corporate ladder, then, God willing, to the altar. The first part was easy. The second part presented one obstacle and her name was none other than Sylvia Stanton. She would, however, cross that bridge when she came to it.
