The Insider (15 page)

The Jupiter deal was only a meeting or two away from being finalized, so a meeting with Clive Shusett did not fit with Will's stalling tactics.

Will dialed Clive's office immediately because he knew from the cell phone static that he would not be there. “Clive, this is Will Connelly. I got your message, but I'm afraid the twenty-fourth is bad for me. I've got an all-day meeting scheduled. Do you have another date that we can try for? Let me know. Thanks.”

Once again, Maggie peered into his office. She had access to Will's schedule, so she knew his calendar was clear on the twenty-fourth.

“Hi. I couldn't help overhearing,” Maggie said, entering the office. “I show no appointments for you on the twenty-fourth. Just wanted to make sure that I had your calendar straight.”

“You got me, Maggie. It's called strategy.”

“Okay. I just hate it when you start keeping your own calendar and not entering your appointments. It makes it so much harder for me to schedule things for you.”

“I would never do that to you, Maggie. I live to make your life easier.”

“If only it were so,” Maggie said, returning to her desk.

Will hoped that he had assuaged Maggie's curiosity. He did not want anyone getting the impression that he was delaying the closing of the Jupiter deal, especially Maggie, who frequently swapped gossip with the other secretaries in the corporate department.

An electronic reminder popped up on his computer screen: “Partners' meeting.” Will rose from his desk and headed for the main conference room to attend his first meeting of the San Francisco partners, a little curious as to what the view was going to be like from the other side of the great divide.

When he reached the conference room, everyone was gathered around the table or serving themselves dim sum.

Managing partner Don Rubinowski led the meetings. “All right, folks, we'd better get started,” he said. “The first order of business is welcoming our new partners.”

A smattering of applause and lame kidding greeted the newcomers, as Will and the other four smiled dutifully.

As the meeting progressed through an agenda that included the status of billings and collections and a lateral partner candidate, Will grew bored.

Then Don's voice went somber. It was probably the same tone he employed when advising a white-collar-crime client who was going to be trading in his pinstripes for an orange jumpsuit. “Now we have some more serious business to attend to. Claire Rowland.”

Don recapped the situation for the newcomers. “Claire got mixed reviews last year. A handful of you identified problems in her work. Now we have another set of reviews in front of us, and it looks as if those problems have, if anything, worsened.”

Don nodded at Richard Grogan. “Richard, would you like to say anything for the benefit of those who weren't at the last meeting? You seem to have particular issues with Claire's performance.”

“It's regrettable that Claire isn't measuring up, but I don't think we're doing her or us any favors by keeping her on when it's not working out,” Richard said.

Apparently, the process was further along than Will had realized, because no one else was saying anything.

Will saw that the other new partners were obviously fascinated by this discussion, but none of them were about to open their mouths. It seemed that Claire's termination was a done deal, and Don wasn't exactly inviting an open debate of the matter. Will turned his gaze to Sam Bowen, who was concentrating resolutely on his moo shu pork—he would be of no assistance.

Will thought Claire had done a great job on due diligence for the Jupiter deal and other transactions. In his opinion, she was smart, creative, and responsible. He felt certain that there was nothing in her job performance that could possibly justify firing.

Don droned toward a conclusion. “This is certainly an unfortunate situation, but Richard's right, it's better not to let these kinds of problems fester. Now, before we vote, does anyone have any final comments?”

Will knew that it was in his best interests to just shut up and let the vote proceed. Nevertheless, he spoke up. “I was just wondering, who else has given Claire bad reviews? I had no idea that there were such serious concerns about her work. Frankly, she's done a great job for me on my projects.”

Three hands went up. Jay Spencer, Daria Finotti, and Jim Hugasian, all members of Richard's deal team. Will instantly recognized the dynamic that was at work. Jay, Daria, and Jim would follow any lead set by Richard. From personal experience, Will knew that associates who worked with Richard were expected to become his fawning disciples, swearing allegiance to Richard and his transactions to the exclusion of all others. Those who did not, such as Will and, he suspected, Claire, did so at their peril. Although he had no evidence, he was certain that Claire was being fired because she was simply too independent-minded to kiss Richard's ring.

“Claire really dropped the ball on the due diligence for the Kamen deal,” Jay offered. “The work was sloppy, there were key issues that were missed. It nearly jeopardized our representation. The problems were substantial enough that I simply don't think I could trust her to work on one of my projects again.”

“I have a very different perspective on Claire's work,” Will said.

“Please, Will, go ahead,” said Don, clearly surprised to be hearing from him.

“Claire's currently heading up the due diligence team on the Jupiter deal, and I'd really hate to lose her. Her work has been excellent. I think it's important that we have a tolerance for the learning curve. We have to allow young attorneys like Claire the room to make a few mistakes. I'm sure we've all had at least one project from hell as an associate, or a partner that you just didn't click with.”

Will waited for a moment to see if anyone else would rally to Claire's defense, but no one spoke.

“Thank you for your input,” Don said coolly. “But it appears that this was more than just a failure to ‘click,' as you say, with a particular partner.”

Scanning the conference room table, Will noted a few faint smiles beginning to appear. Unsurprisingly, Jay Spencer was already in full smirk.

“In the absence of further comments, I think it's time to call the vote,” Don said. “Who's for termination?”

Everyone around the table raised their hands, except Will. As a token of sensitivity, the hands did not shoot up like the class know-it-all. Rather, the hands went up slowly, reluctantly, rising barely above the shoulder, as if to signify,
This hurts me as much as it hurts her
.

“Okay,” Don said. “I'll meet with Claire to deliver the news, and we'll put together a severance package. Looks like we're adjourned.”

As soon as the vote was cast, Richard was immersed in conversation with Jay, Daria, and Jim, already back to the day's business. Will contemplated Richard and wondered, with genuine curiosity, how someone could do such damage to the life of another person without thinking twice. Will had once been on the receiving end of Richard's sniping when he was a second-year associate, and the only thing that had saved him from Claire's fate had been the support of Sam Bowen. Unfortunately, because Will was a new partner, his opinion did not carry the same weight as Sam's when it came to swaying votes.

Don stopped on his way out the door and put his hand on Will's shoulder. “These decisions are always tough, but you have to start thinking like a partner now.”

Will nodded, then waited for Don to remove his hand.

Don studied him for a moment, then clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.

Jay Spencer approached, smirk still firmly in place. “Will, I must say I was touched by the speech.” He tapped his fist to his chest. “Got me right here, buddy. Right here.”

“You're all heart,” he responded.

“We've got to maintain our standards,” Jay said, heading for the door. “It's what separates us from those PI lawyers who advertise on TV and the
abogados
on Mission Street.”

Will hoped that he hadn't just made an enemy of Richard Grogan. Did being a partner really provide him with immunity from Richard's machinations? He knew that his new status provided some measure of protection, but he didn't want to test its limits so soon.

But perhaps Richard had been his enemy all along. Someone within the firm seemed to be involved with the Russians, and Richard was as good a candidate as any. As a chair of the corporate department, Richard was privy to what was happening in the Jupiter transaction. Will wondered if Richard might have already learned of Claire's discovery of Jupiter's NSA connection, and whether that had played a role in his decision to have her fired.

Will resolved that if it was Richard who had framed him for Ben's death and brought the Russians into his life, then he would find a way to bring him down. Richard was not untouchable. But then again, neither was Will.

The first thing that Will noticed when he returned to his condo was the insistent red light of his answering machine flashing in the dark.

“You have two new messages,” intoned the gender-neutral, synthesized voice.

The first message was from Katya. “Hello, Will.” She pronounced it
Weel
. “Are you still mad at me? I hope not. I really did have fun that night, and I'd like to see you again. I'm free tonight if you are. You don't have to trust me if you don't want to. Just call me.”

So now Will was getting booty calls from a Russian gangster's moll. How his life had changed in the past four days.

The second message was from Claire, left at ten thirty that night. “I guess you've heard the news by now. Actually, I suppose you must have been at the meeting where it was decided.” Her tone of voice wavered as she tried to apply a forced cheerfulness that wouldn't stick. “You're probably the last person I should be calling right now—but I've really enjoyed working with you—and I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this tonight—and—I can't get fired twice! And there's something else that we really need to discuss. I'm going to have a drink at Lefty's. Make that a couple. I'll be over there by about eleven. If you can make it, that's great. If you can't, it's no problem and I understand. I think I'd better stop now. Bye.”

He had to go. Will knew from personal experience how devastating the loss of a job was for careerists like himself and Claire.

When a Reynolds associate was fired, he or she was regarded during the notice period much like a zombie—dead, yet still inexplicably roaming the hallways in a Thorazine shuffle. In contrast, a departing partner was usually ejected from the offices in short order because he or she usually had clients that the firm was hoping to retain. The partners viewed a terminated associate as an unwelcome reminder to the other associates that although Reynolds Fincher might be a family, it was a family where love was not unconditional. For their part, the associates treated their soon-to-be-departed colleague with the cool sympathy usually reserved for someone who had contracted a disease brought about by a perceived moral weakness, like an alcoholic suffering from liver failure. They had to believe that it was a fate that could not befall them.

Even though Claire was usually more than capable of looking out for herself, a depressed woman drinking alone in a bar like Lefty's was a recipe for disaster. He checked his watch. Eleven thirty P.M. She'd probably already been hit on at least five times by now.

But Will also had more self-serving reasons for rushing to offer solace to Claire. Her discovery of Jupiter's links with the NSA was just the kind of information that, if leaked to the press, might bring the merger process to a halt. If Grogan was working with the Russians and had gone to the trouble of having Claire fired, then it was also possible that Claire knew something that might help him penetrate the conspiracy.

Will took a taxi to Lefty's, a marina district bar frequented by boisterous ex-fraternity brothers in their midtwenties. Claire's choice of venue was ill-advised because of the predatory male clientele, but he could understand the appeal. Everyone was so intent on having a good time, and loudly broadcasting that fact, that it was difficult to think, much less brood.

Will found Claire seated at the corner of the bar, shielded on one side by the wait stand, leaving her with only one border to defend. She was wearing jeans and a white cotton shirt open at the collar. On the stool next to Claire was a callow young man with short black hair wearing a Radiohead T-shirt. He was glancing up from his beer at regular intervals, trying to catch Claire's eye to restart a failed conversation. Claire was leaning slightly forward over her martini glass, eyes determinedly fixed on the television set above the bar, which was tuned to a Giants game.

Will couldn't really blame the poor bastard. If they hadn't been co-workers, Will might have approached Claire in a bar. When they first began working together, he had allowed himself to think about what it would be like to go out with her, even though that was a practical impossibility because she was a subordinate. Largely to console himself, he had concluded that Claire was just a little too intense for him. Like living in a house next to a power line, he decided that long-term exposure to Claire would probably not be good for him, although he couldn't pinpoint exactly why that was so.

Will tapped Claire on the shoulder, and she turned slowly, braced to repel another onslaught. When she saw that it was Will, her defenses went down and she managed a small, taut smile.

“Hi, Will. Thanks for coming.”

“I couldn't let you drink alone. Not tonight.”