“That depends.”
“Some of them maintain that perhaps a more, oh, balanced
approach might be in order. That you’re driving the staff a little too hard.”
“Everyone’s feeling pressure to wrap this up.”
“I’m only passing on what seems to be the general—”
“And so I won’t burden you with the facts.” Sometimes
Devinn had a way of getting under his skin. “My job is to lead, not run some
psychological love fest every time...forget I said that.” He was surprised by
his sudden impatience.
“You ought to know how people see things.”
“Sure. Here’s the way I see it. If down the road we have
another problem, but this time in revenue service and
hundreds
of people
die, the question will be asked why the company proceeded when none of the
theories stand up to the rigorous scrutiny that will certainly follow. The only
way around that trap is to have the correct answer. The only way to have the
correct answer is money and people working the problem.” Stuart went over the
points he thought important for the HR department to understand. It was also a
rare opportunity for him to unload his thoughts on a neutral observer.
At length, Stuart said, “One of my guys—Ian Vickers, you
know him?”
“The Brit.”
“Vickers said something thought-provoking the other night.”
“What was that?”
“He and I were shooting the breeze. By the way, Vickers is
a proponent of the oil-leak vibration failure theory that I don’t support. Any
way, we’d had a couple of beers and were commiserating our dismal failure
getting the program back on track. Vickers got this far-away philosophical look
on his face, which if you spent time with Vickers like I do you’d know is rare.
He pointed out how much easier our job would be if a bomb or a missile had
simply blown the plane out of the sky, like what happens to commercial
airliners every now and then.”
Devinn slowly put down his glass. “Are you saying a bomb?”
“No, of course not. No doubt about it, this was an
accident. We’re just perplexed how the clues refuse to yield under the force of
so intense an investigation. On the one hand, we’re overwhelmed with the amount
of engineering data, and on the other, key pieces are missing. I guess we
wouldn’t be the first.” He fixed his gaze on the opposite wall of the
racquetball court.
“Be the first what?”
“The first not to pin down the specific cause of a crash.” Stuart
finished his beer and set the empty glass on the table. He turned toward Devinn
and narrowed his eyes. “Certain individuals are going to be off-limits of this
lay-off.”
“Like who?”
“Emily Chang’s group, for starters.”
“I’m afraid that may not be your call. What’s so special
about Emily Chang?”
“She and her staff are key to dredging up the initiating
cause of the crash, which I believe may prove to be something electronic or
software related.”
“Huh. We’re going to have to see. Listen, Stu, this is
going to sound awful. I’ve put in for a leave of absence.”
Stuart did not respond.
“I realize this is not a good time but it’s been in the
works for awhile—long before Cole’s reduction-in-force announcement, or even
the crash. Our preparations for the RIF will be in order by the time I leave. I’m
giving everyone several week’s notice.”
“What are your plans, Paul?”
A tight smile passed over the man’s rugged features. “A
fishing trip up north, nothing exotic.”
“Do me one favor before you go.” Stuart tried
unsuccessfully to conceal the irritation in his voice. “Help me keep Chang’s
work unit intact. We can claim special needs of the business, which is true.”
The grave expression returned to Devinn’s face. “I’ll
do what I can. You’ve been through these. Nobody’s off limits.”
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING,
Devinn looked up from behind his desk to find his assistant standing at the
door. A smile creased the beige-colored cosmetic at the corners of Janine Norris’s
mouth.
“What is it?”
“You asked to review Stuart’s salary plans,” the woman
reminded him in her thick Long Island accent. Plans for conducting a lay-off
were still being held under wraps, so the excuse he had used on Norris for
retrieving the files was to review all of the salaries in Stuart’s division. He
nodded curtly toward the chair on the opposite side of his desk.
Norris sat down and presented Devinn a manila folder with
the word ‘Private’ stamped on the cover. Inside he found that Norris had
categorized payroll information for the three-hundred-and-five engineers and
administrative personnel under Stuart’s purview. Norris looked on and so Devinn
feigned interest in these only because he had specifically requested them. His
patience ebbed the longer he searched for the one chart that he wanted, the
real reason he’d ordered her to construct the report to begin with. It looked
as though he would have to explicitly ask for it, something he had hoped to
avoid.
He shook his head. “We need to flatten out the distribution
of salary increase,” Devinn said while perusing the charts. “There’s no need to
punish the people on the bottom. They work just as hard as the stand-outs.” He
cleared his throat and glanced up from the desk. “Where’s the summary of Stuart’s
high-performance individuals?”
Norris pursed her lips and frowned. “Back at my desk.”
“Get it, please.”
Norris returned in a flourish and presented Devinn with a
lone sheet of paper. There were twelve names on the alphabetical list of
individuals designated by Stuart to receive above-average raises, subject to
final approval by the CEO and the human resources department. Second from the
top he read
Chang, Emily.
But a scan of the page revealed that her name
had appeared on the elite list for four years running, a full year before
Stuart’s employment.
Devinn realized it would be hard to implicate Stuart’s
request to protect Chang from the lay-off as based in some sort of
favoritism—better yet, an office romance—and that much more difficult to refuse.
Combined with Stuart’s suspicion that the engine failure was related to
software, it appeared as if Sean Thompson’s fears were coming to fruition.
He closed the folder and slid it across the desk to his
assistant. “I’ll need personnel files on the top five of the list.”
The telephone rang on Devinn’s desk. His secretary was out
sick today so he reached to pick it up. The call was from Thanatech’s lead
counsel.
“I’ve got an unusual question,” Brian Fulmer said. “Are you
alone?”
Devinn looked at Norris fidgeting with the assortment of
rings on her fingers. “Go ahead.” He swiveled his chair away from her.
“Do you have knowledge of anyone on the engineering payroll
who you might describe as a malcontent? Maybe there’s a situation you’re privy
to, say, of a contentious relationship between an employee and his boss?”
Devinn leaned forward in his chair, alarm bells ringing in
his head. “I’m not sure I know what you mean. What are you trying to find out?”
There was a pause. “I’m not at liberty to divulge that just
yet.”
“It’s just that your request is a little vague. If you’re
looking for someone or something specific then the more I know, the better I
can help.”
“What if I said I’d be interested in some instance where
you would not be surprised to learn that the employee had turned in evidence
against the company.”
“Like a whistle-blower, as in a government lawsuit?” If so,
Devinn suddenly feared, perhaps Sean Thompson had completely cracked. A lawyer
by training, it also seemed to him that Fulmer’s inquiry was probably illegal,
if such a case was in fact being prepared against the company.
“Something like that. But that’s all I can say.”
Devinn pondered Fulmer’s question. “I’ll give it some
thought, Brian. How soon do you need the information?”
Devinn agreed to call Fulmer back in a day or so. Thanatech’s
lawyer reminded him before hanging up to keep his investigation discreet.
Devinn recalled hearing that lawsuits were brewing against
the company over the Mojave crash. It was a logical outcome, but he had
dismissed the matter as unlikely to materialize any time soon. Perhaps he’d
been wrong.
“Say, Janine. You’re an intelligent woman.” He watched her
sit up in her chair. “You’ve had time to observe several styles of management
here. What sense do you have of Stuart’s leadership?”
Norris had the nervous habit of darting her eyes around the
room while struggling for words. It wasn’t often that he asked her opinion
about anything. She seemed determined to give it her all.
“It’s not a trick question.”
Norris exhaled deeply. “At first I thought the guy was some
sort of Neanderthal.”
“Explain what you mean.”
“Well, I don’t think you were around yet. But he shows up a
few years ago supposedly with some mandate to whip the division into shape. You
know the propfan thing-a-ma-jing has always been Cole’s pet project, and I
guess it was in pretty deep shit at the time. Anyway, he’s here a few weeks and
throws away the company’s process guide as if nobody knows what the hell
they’re doing. I attended some meetings where he made all these decisions on
his own...you know, I actually saw him do that?”
“Do what?”
“Lose his temper and storm out of a meeting and heave a
big, leather-bound copy of the engineering process guide right into a parking
lot dumpster! He started hiring in all his own people. There’s no doubt the
man’s a cowboy, makes unilateral decisions
all
the time. But,” she
glanced up at the ceiling and puckered her lips, “I have to admit a lot of
people took a liking to the guy. Not me.”
“I see.” Her response was actually better than he would
have expected. “Incidentally, don’t you know somebody in legal?”
“Yes. We have lunch every day. Hey,” she said with her
voice almost a whisper and her eyes growing wide. “Did I hear you say something
about a whistle-blower? I wonder if it has anything to do with that lawsuit.”
“Which lawsuit is that?”
“I think they want it kept quiet for a few days. My friend
signed for the courier pouch containing the summons.” She hesitated at the
smile forming on his mouth. “She saw the copy of the plaintiff’s complaint or
whatever it is. It’s about the Mojave crash.” She flashed a smile in response
to his nod. “She told me about it because they sent the summons to Fulmer in
the same high-handed way she remembered my ex-husband sent his to me.”
“Hmm. I wonder who ‘they’ are.”
“Oh I think she said there was a bunch of plaintiffs. I
guess Cole’s not letting too many people see it.”
Devinn realized Cole would want such an assault held under
wraps until they prepared a suitable response. So, then, what were Fulmer and
Cole up to? The pompous ass must be pulling his hair out—Cole’s being sued for
the same impetuous decision to fly that killed his daughter. The turn of events
could prove useful in turning up the heat on Stuart.
“That’s unfortunate news, especially...” Devinn’s voice became
heavy with concern. “Especially given the investigation trouble Stuart’s having
now. So where were we...Stuart the Cowboy. Do you think many others share your
view?”
Norris shook her head and shrugged. “I can think of a few
people who might. I’m not that tight with many of the engineers.”
Devinn nodded slowly, his expression pained, compassionate.
“This is difficult for me to talk about but...well, his salary plans reveal more
of what I was afraid I would find. Poor Stu.” He paused, blinking his eyes. “I’m
afraid as hard as the man tries, and as effective as he may think he is, the
truth of the matter is that he’s simply incompetent. He seems to have trouble
motivating his people—look at the mess the company’s in. I fear all of this
pressure is bound to make him crack. The propfan program is about to fly off
the rails. This lawsuit, if it’s what we think, is liable to make matters
worse.”
Three hours later, Paul Devinn was in a dark mood as he fed
the last pages of the one-time cipher pad through the shredding machine in his
basement. Doubt gnawed in the pit of his stomach. Rather than just fizzling out
as he had hoped, Stuart’s investigation seemed to be lumbering off in the worst
possible direction, like an aircraft carrier, cumbersome and slow in its maneuvers,
the difficulty in altering its course increasing with time and speed. Thompson’s
emotional desperation was an unwelcome complication at best, a total disaster
if the engineer was the reason for Fulmer’s mysterious inquiry. All this indicated
to Devinn his greatest fear of all, that he was losing control.
Besides serving as a distraction, Janine Morris’s news of
the lawsuit might actually bring enough pressure on Stuart to effectively
derail his plans. Devinn decided that he needed to establish contingencies—he
simply had to seek help. And however peeved his handler claimed to be with Devinn’s
recent performance, the man would be hard-pressed not to provide it.
He removed the shredder from the top of the garbage
pail and thoroughly cleared all remnants of paper from the device’s discharge. Once
back inside his townhouse Devinn flushed the contents down the toilet.
* * *
EMILY STARED
at the
flat-panel display and struggled to suppress the fear surrounding the
disappearance of her parents. If her parents had managed to slip free of the
authorities, why had they not contacted her? If not directly, then why not
through her relatives, or somebody else, as they typically had? Emily shook her
head. In a very real way she was grateful for the distraction of her job.