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Zoe and Izzie sat in the club chairs while Myra remained standing, leaning against one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. She fidgeted with her pearls.
Zoe opened the leather portfolio she’d brought with her and pulled out the paperwork. She held it with great distress. She began by reviewing the construction disasters she’d discussed with Izzie. “I know you are familiar with most of these tragedies. Something wasn’t sitting right with me. Just weeks after these incidents, the stories were swept to the back of the news.”
Annie cleared her throat and raised her hand. “Guilty. With all the political nonsense over the past several years, it’s been tough to prioritize. People want the most up-to-date information so they can make sound decisions.” She paused. “At least that’s what my paper hopes to provide.”
Zoe looked at Annie. “Oh, I totally get it. I’m not blaming the media. Well, at least not all of it. We’ve come to a very grim period in the human race. Mass shootings, war, bombs, storms, floods, wildfires. All of it has become daily news. It’s heartbreaking. It’s a matter of which disaster do you want to be depressed about today? Whether it’s people, politics, or the climate. No wonder so many people are on antianxiety medication.” Zoe took a sip of her tea. “For the most part, the public was never made aware of any of the investigations. And I suspect some of those investigations were put in a box, on a shelf, in the back of a closet in a basement somewhere. Swept it under the rug. Ambition above safety.
“The most recent condo collapse in Florida hit close to home. Old family friends had a condominium in that building. Fortunately, they made it out alive. A few broken bones. But they lost their neighbors. Their friends. So, I started looking into the public information on file. As you’re probably aware, they discovered there was an inspection three years before citing cracks in the poolside part of the foundation. Nothing was done even though the residents kept complaining. Water was seeping into the garage area. After the tragedy, they discovered insufficient reinforcement steel and possible political corruption. Meaning inspections were not thorough or not done at all.” She paused. “It’s an international crisis replete with corruption, yet there is no central organization investigating these events.”
Everyone remained silent, absorbing what Zoe was saying. It was apparent where she was going with this. “Minneapolis, 2007. Total failure of the gussets on the Missouri River Bridge. Thirteen people died.
“Argentina, 2014. Faulty concrete. Thirty people. 2019. Hard Rock in New Orleans. Three people. 2011. Indiana State Fair. Seven people. The pedestrian bridge in Miami. Six people. Faulty design. Morandi Bridge, Genoa, Italy. 2018. Forty-three people. Faulty construction in the sound barrier. One major difference is three people were arrested that time. Through a wiretap the authorities discovered the construction company used a type of glue used by schoolkids. The judge cited them with ‘grave criminal conduct linked to entrepreneurial policies.’ But that is rare. Companies are putting people in potential danger for bigger profits.” She stopped to let the information sink in. It didn’t take long.
Myra leaned forward. “You suspect your company is involved in similar practices? Ethical failures?”
“Indeed, I do.” Zoe organized the paperwork and handed it to Myra.
Myra gave it a cursory glance and passed it on to Annie, who whipped out her rhinestone glasses and began to read aloud. “El Cemento?” She looked up.
“That’s the company where the checks are going. But I can’t find a record of their business certificates anywhere.”
Annie read on. “The Dominican Republic is where the REBAR plant is located. Not terribly surprising. There is a lot of corruption going on down there.”
“As of now, I can’t link any recent disasters to REBAR, but looking at the paper trail, my big concern is that REBAR will be responsible for certain disasters if they are supplying subpar materials for major construction projects,” Zoe explained. “And we are busy.”
“Do you think the clients are aware they are buying subpar materials?” Myra asked. “Trying to save money?”
“That much I do not know. I have no idea how deep or how far this goes.”
Izzie cut in. “Tell them about your own experiences lately. The job change. The subway.”
Myra got up and took a bottle of brandy off the sidebar. She poured a little of it into Zoe’s cup. Zoe looked up into Myra’s sympathetic eyes. “Thanks. I am a bit rattled.”
“No doubt.” Annie sat straight up. “So tell us, what has been happening with you?”
“I was in London working on a project and got pulled off. They said the job got canceled. When I got back to the States, and after my chat with Donald Walsh, I found myself in the oversight department. My job is to go to different projects and check that all the plans, invoices, and permits are up-to-date. Once I give the green light, we deliver our products to the job site. By the time the materials arrive, I’m on to the next one. It was not what I signed up for. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence my transfer happened after I spoke to Mr. Jackass Walsh.”
Annie snapped her fingers. “Yes, I am a conspiracy person from time to time, and to me this sounds like one. They wanted to get you out of the home office for one thing. For another, should anything happen in the future, you’d be the one to take the fall because you signed off on the job.”
Zoe nodded. “Pretty much. And there are at least a dozen international jobs where I signed the contracts. If REBAR provides subpar materials, I am screwed all over the place.” She took a sip of her spiked tea and winced.
“You get used to it.” Myra gave her a devilish smile.
Zoe went on. “I let the subject and Mr. Walsh drop while I was making the transition from one job to the other, plus all the traveling. I hadn’t had much time to think.
“But after one of my recent trips, while I was on the way back from the airport, I decided to stop by the office to update my files. It was around seven P.M. The place was empty. I flipped through my inbox. The one on my desk. There were a few newspapers and as I was separating them for recycling, I noticed an article about the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, and how the loss of human life was due to a systemic failure. The politics of speediness. Eighteen hundred people died. That’s when something clicked in my head and I decided to check out a few things. Invoices and such.” She pointed to the pile of papers sitting on Annie’s lap. “A few days later my access to the financial systems was denied. I’m being shut out. I went from Vice President of International Sales to project inspector.”
“Do you think they did this to force you out?” Myra asked.
“Firing me would not fly well. My employment record is impeccable, and I am a woman. Very touchy subject these days. So, give me a job they know I’ll hate and maybe I’ll quit.” Zoe sighed.
“Sure sounds like it.” Annie nodded.
“Yeah, well, I won’t. Not yet.” Zoe let out a big sigh. “What creeps me out is cutting off my access to the financials. As far as I know my title is still Vice President. At least they let me keep that.”
A deep English baritone voice carried across the room. “Obviously someone is monitoring log-in information. For security purposes, I would presume,” Charles proclaimed as he entered the atrium.
Myra turned. “Hello, love. Good game?”
