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Doug took a step forward, but Henry’s hand shot out. “No!”
Doug frowned, then shrugged as if to say, you simply couldn’t predict the old man.
“It’s over, Doug,” Henry said at last.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Dad. It’s over. I’ve shown Tartan the door.”
“It’s not as easy as he’s making it sound,” Miles said, his voice gritty. “Knight’s gone too far to pull out now.”
Doug’s gaunt face turned crimson. “Don’t listen to him, Dad. I’ve got things under control. I’ve made mistakes, and I hope you’ll forgive me for them. But last night I saw what a fool I’ve been. Amy helped me. She made me realize this is our company. You and Grandpa built it. We can’t let it go. I understand that now.”
Henry, his wiry body looking so frail now, stared uncomprehendingly at his son, then suddenly walked past him and sat down at the table. The others, following his cue, also took seats. Henry shook his head, then said to David, “I can’t do this.”
“David, what’s all this about?” Miles asked, slipping easily into his professional mode. “We had a deal on the table. It was accepted. We went forward. Then everything went to hell. Why? Fuck if I know. But I’m here because Randall’s willing to put yesterday’s rigmarole behind him. I’m guessing you’re here because you’ve talked some sense into Mr. Knight. So, let’s finish this up and go home.”
“You forget,” David said. “I don’t work for you anymore.”
“I was out of line,” Miles admitted. “As you pointed out, I can’t fire you without a vote of the full partnership.”
“Semantics,” David said. “I quit. Does that satisfy you?”
Miles’s forehead creased as he processed this information. Then he said, “I apologize. Now, let’s let bygones be bygones and get on with this.” He reached out to the middle of the table and pushed the stack of contracts toward Henry.
The older man fingered the edges of the papers. “If I sign, this will all be over,” he said. Again he turned toward David, waiting for an answer.
David weighed these words. Could he let what he knew had happened go by unpunished for the sake of this old man? A year ago it wouldn’t have been a question. His duty would have been clear. Punishment to the full extent of the law. No mitigating circumstances. No mercy. But since he’d found Hulan again, he’d changed. Sometimes the greater good meant looking the other way. What did Hulan call it? The one-eye-open, one-eye-closed policy? Henry’s statement had also implied a question, and as David surveyed the faces in the room, he saw the myriad crimes and secrets that wouldn’t be solved by a series of signatures.
“No, Henry, it won’t be over,” David said.
“Dad,” Doug interrupted impatiently. “I’ve already told you. We can keep the company. I want us to keep it. I know I can build it for my sons—”
“Shut up, Doug,” Henry rapped out, then, “David?”
They were all staring at him now. David understood that at this moment he held in his hands the power to destroy lives as easily and perhaps more brutally than if he’d held a gun. But so many lives had been lost already. It had to stop now. He looked around. This place seemed so civilized with its pretty pictures on the walls, the air-conditioning, the expensive rosewood table, but violence had occurred here in many forms. He didn’t have a weapon, but he knew Lo did and assumed Hulan did as well. If anything happened, they’d be ready. He thought of how he’d seen Hulan at the Tsais’ farm. Her method was so Chinese, but she had laid out the facts as any prosecutor would. That’s what he had to do now.
“Three weeks ago a girl was killed not far from here,” David began. “It looked like a suicide. It turned out to be a murder. We know now that her death had nothing to do with Knight International, but for a while there seemed to be a link. Back then, after I found out about the girl’s death, I had dinner with a friend, Keith Baxter. When he was murdered, I blamed myself for reasons that don’t matter.”
“Do we have to hear all this?” Miles asked, pushing his chair away from the table.
“Stay where you are, Miles,” David ordered. Lo, on unspoken command, stood, crossed the room, took a position with his back against the door, and unbuttoned his jacket so everyone could see his weapon. “You see,” David resumed in an even tone, “there are so many layers here, so many betrayals, I think you’ll all want to hear me out. Especially you, Miles. This next part particularly concerns you.”
Miles didn’t move. The air in the room, despite the air conditioning, suddenly felt heavy.
“At Keith’s funeral,” David continued, “I listened, but I didn’t understand the words. Miles, you’re a smart man, and you played us all so well simply by speaking the truth. Remember what you said about the last time you’d seen Keith? It was something along the lines of ‘Keith showed me some papers. He saw the problems. He saw the mistakes.’ You flaunted that in front of Keith’s family, his friends, and his partners. And not one person understood what they were hearing, isn’t that right?”
Miles didn’t answer, but the coldness in his blue eyes told everyone in the room that there was truth in David’s words.
“Keith conf
ronted you with the lies and omissions in the financials, and you didn’t do anything about them. You knew the kind of shop these people ran, and you didn’t do anything about that either. You were willing for this deal to go forward at any cost. This has meant,” David said, now including the others in the room, “that he was willing to forgo any professional ethics he ever had by lying to the government, by lying to his client, by lying to his partners. In our profession we consider these to be the worst possible breaches, but these are nothing compared to taking a human life. Remember at your house when I said that Keith’s sister blamed me for her brother’s death? You said something like, ‘How could she? She wasn’t there.’ But you were! You killed Keith Baxter and you hired me, guessing accurately that since I blamed myself, I wouldn’t see the truth.”
“I didn’t kill Keith,” Miles said. “I couldn’t possibly—”
“It’s not my job to prove it,” David said. “But I’m sure the LAPD will be interested in looking at your car—if you still have it. The rest, it’s true, is circumstantial. But remember years ago how you taught me to explain circumstantial evidence to a jury? You don’t need to see the actual bunny to know it’s been in the snow. All you need to see are the bunny’s tracks. Well, you’ve left plenty of tracks, and I think there’s enough of them to get a conviction, especially when you add in the motive.”
Miles grimaced. “I have no motive.”
“Yes, that was a problem,” David agreed. “For the longest time I didn’t see one, just as I hadn’t seen the other things that were so obvious. But you see, that was the key. The obvious. What did I know about you? You were always a climber. Smooth, but a climber. The golf with Milken. The premieres with the studio execs. Mary Elizabeth’s charity work. You wanted to be a player.”
