Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry(93)

Junior paused and then spoke slowly. “I’m afraid you’re right about Sherman. I went to Security and reviewed the footage from the night Myers died. Sherman left the building five minutes before Myers did.”

“So he could have been waiting for Myers outside.”

“Precisely. And if Sherman asked him to go for a walk with him or to get in his car, Myers would not have suspected anything.”

“Until it was too late.”

“That’s how I see it.”

“You fancy yourself a leader, Fred. Here’s your chance. Lead! Tell me where we go from here.”

Junior was silent for a few moments. Then, in a calm voice, he said, “You’re right. There’ll be time later to sort out who’s at fault for all this, but for now…” He stopped. Struggling to find the right words, he asked, “Is there any chance that we can keep a lid on everything that’s happened?”

“Slim to none,” Carter replied. “I doubt the reporter, Gina Kane, went all the way to Nebraska to have a good steak. If she got access to Paula Stephenson’s personal papers, she knows about the settlement and about Carter & Associates. She’s met Meg Williamson. If she applies enough pressure, Williamson might cave. If Cathy Ryan and Stephenson were in touch with other victims, has Kane tracked them down and spoken to them? Another unknown is the late Ed Myers. Did he talk to his wife or anybody else in the company about sending the wires? For all we know, an internal investigation is already going on.”

“I’m on the board. If there were an internal investigation, I’d know about it. But you’re right. This is not going to stay quiet. Our best chance is to get ahead of the story.”

“It’s a little late for that. How do you propose to do it?”

“We have to meet with that reporter, Gina Kane, and make it clear to her that your actions and mine were confined to achieving settlements with the victims. We played no role in,” he paused, “what Sherman did to Ryan, Stephenson, and Myers.”

What Sherman did, Carter thought to himself. Junior still can’t say the word “murder.” “That’s our best option and our only option,” Carter said. Again he began thinking about which criminal lawyer to call. “I’ll set up the meet.”

“There may be a better way,” Junior said. “My family name still carries a lot of weight. Arrange for her to meet with you. I’ll show up in your place and assure her that top management at REL is behind getting the truth out and fixing the problem. You can then join us and explain the effort that was made to reach amicable settlements.”

“Fred, by the time this is over, the legal bills are going to run into seven figures. That’s not a burden for somebody like you, but for me—”

“You’re right, Michael. Help me take control of the crisis, and I’ll take care of your legal fees.”

Carter felt relieved. He didn’t know how he would come out of this, but at least he wouldn’t be broke.

“Find out where she lives. Tell her you’ll pick her up in an hour. Oscar and I will get her, then drive back here and get you. The three of us will go over to REL, sit in a conference room, and,” he paused, “do what we have to do.”

Carter, for the first time, felt admiration for Junior. “If it’s any consolation, Fred,” he said, “you’re doing the right thing.”

With the phone on speaker, Carter dialed the cell number Gina had given Meg Williamson. She recognized his name immediately. After he explained that he and a member of REL’s board wanted to meet with her, she quickly agreed and provided her address.





105





Minutes after Gina finished speaking to Charlie, her phone rang again. She tried to contain her excitement that she was speaking to Michael Carter of Carter & Associates. She was initially taken aback by his request to meet him in one hour. After she agreed and provided her address, she phoned Charlie’s cell. He probably had it off or silenced while he was in with the publisher, she thought. She left him a message about her Carter meeting.

She was about to start making a list of the questions she would ask Carter when her landline phone rang. The caller ID showed “NYPD.”

“Gina Kane, please.”

“This is she.”

“I’m Sergeant Kevin Shea from the Twentieth Precinct. Miss Kane, we recovered your cell phone—”

“Do you have it there now?”

“Yes, it’s on my desk.”

Gina glanced at the clock on the refrigerator. There would be barely enough time. If she could get her hands on the phone, she would know if it had the recording of the seven names. Armed with that information, she would have a much stronger hand to play with Carter.

“Sergeant Shea, I’m on my way over right now to get it,” she replied.

“Okay, but—” He heard a click as the call disconnected. People are funny sometimes, he thought to himself as he looked at the phone. It was dry now. A pedestrian had found it in a puddle and given it to an officer in a squad car. A business card taped to the back of the phone showed Kane’s numbers. What was the big rush to come over and pick up a useless phone?

He got up, walked the phone to the front desk, and said the owner was on her way over to pick it up.