Richard Stevenson - Chain of Fools

"Now, do you want that to happen, Don? Does Janet? Talk to her, is my best advice. Explain the situation, and see if Janet doesn't agree that the best course for both the Herald and all the Osbornes at this point is for you to drop your well-intentioned but potentially explosively disruptive investigation, and for you to pack your bags and head on back down to Albany. If Janet is afraid for her safety or her mother's or Dan's, a good private security firm can be brought on board to allay their fears until the Herald directors meet on September eighth. But as for this Oliver Stone-style conspiracy-to-murder scenario that's boiling away and threatening to blow up in everybody's face, I'd put a lid on that real fast if I were you. This may not be what you want to hear from me, Don. I realize that. But it's my best advice, and I'd be an s.o.b. if I didn't give it to you straight. That's what I do. It's what I'm paid for. It's how I've made my way in Edensburg, and I think Janet will tell you, what I have to say is as worth listening to today as it was back when Tom Osborne was winning Pulitzers and the Herald was the envy of American journalism Do you hear what I'm saying, Don? Do you catch my drift? Do you comprehend the extraordinarily high risks here for so many good people, and for yourself?"

The swamp thing ceased burbling and sat watching me with an unctuous grin Chester sat there looking sly, as if finally I had been boxed up and sealed for delivery out of Edensburg I thought, Why had Tor-kildson rattled on and on about a conspiracy to commit murder? I hadn't mentioned anything about a plot involving more than one person. I'd thought it, but I hadn't mentioned it.

I did not speak my thoughts aloud. Instead, I said to Torkildson, "If your advice is so wise and farseemg, Stu, how come your advice in 1988 resulted in the Herald sliding into the ugly fix it's in now' You're the last man in the world I'd come to for advice about the Herald, or about anything else-except, maybe, where to shop for a bow tie. But thanks, anyway."

Chester sat twitching with rage. But Torkildson gazed at me thoughtfully as I bade them so long until we met again, which I knew beyond a reasonable doubt that we would.

Before I left the Herald Building, I stopped in Janet's office and gave her a rundown on my meeting with Chester and Stu Tor-kildson. She asked if Torkildson had either sold me a souvenir dinner plate from Spruce Haven or picked my pocket. I held out both hands and said, "No plate." My wallet was still in my pocket too.

"Did Chester say anything else about having Mom locked up?" Janet asked.

"It didn't come up. Chester was in with Torkildson when I arrived, so Torkildson might have told him to shut up about that. Or, Chester's threats last night could have been empty bluster. Or, Chester's threats could have been part of a calculated attempt to spook you and your mother into some precipitous action that could be used against you legally, and Torkildson knew all about it but didn't want to be associated with it and if I'd brought it up he'd have acted surprised. But they didn't bring it up, and I wanted to avoid discussion of it until I heard what your lawyer advised."

"I spoke with Slim Finn fifteen minutes ago," Janet said, looking anxious, "and he said that as long as Mom isn't a danger to herself or others, nobody can haul her off against her will or mine. However, they might conceivably get a judge to entertain the idea that she's incapable of carrying out her legal duties as a director of the Herald Corporation. A judge might issue an order blocking Mom's vote, or even forcing her removal from the board. The result, of course, could be Tidy coming onto the board and voting for InfoCom, and the paper would be sunk."

"Couldn't Finn stall a court order until after September eighth? Surely there's some legal cloud of ink he could spew out, leaving the other side thrashing around uselessly for a month or so. There are even those who claim that this is what lawyers are for."

"Maybe it could be done or maybe not," Janet said. "There's so much at stake in this board vote, Slim says, that a judge might be obliged to act immediately. Otherwise, the vote on the sale of the paper would have to be postponed, and if that happened, the bank holding the mortgage might refuse to wait and simply seize the Herald. And nobody involved wants that."

I said, "Who's in line for the board seat if a vacancy opens up-your mother's seat or yours or Dan's-and Tidy for some reason can't serve? I'm not offering to knock off Tidy or have him kidnapped to Bishkek. I'm just interested to know what the line of succession is, in case there's another pro-Griscomb vote somewhere down the line that you might now be maneuvering into position as plan B."

Janet shook her head. "Chester's son, Craig, is next in line after Tidy, but he's in prison and the company by-laws stipulate that board members must be present in order to vote Which is too bad, because Craig hates Chester so much he'd probably vote for Griscomb just to get back at his father."

"Get back at him for what?"

Janet hesitated. She looked almost flustered, which was out of character for her. She said, "You've met Chester." She gazed at me sorrowfully.

"I have. He's not ideal parent material."

She said, "It's worse than that."

"Oh."

"I think he beat Craig."

"You think so?"

"Eric and Dan and I always suspected it. But we never felt we had enough evidence to confront Chester or to bring in an outsider to investigate. The injuries were never that serious-no broken bones or internal injuries that we knew of. But that kid had more bruises than any child I ever saw, and he acted like an abused kid: uncommunicative, withdrawn, listless.

"And then, of course, there's the circumstantial evidence of the way Craig turned out. From adolescence on, he was a liar, a thief, and a fighter-a dirty fighter too, according to word around town. In hindsight, somebody in the family should have stepped in, and maybe we could have saved Craig from wrecking his life. Twenty-five years ago, of course, child abuse wasn't as recognizable as it is today, or taken as seriously by the law or society. Back then, a parent could get away with treating his child in a way that, if he treated anybody else's kid that way, he'd be convicted of assault and sent to prison for years. Still, some of us did suspect what was going on, and now I wish we'd tried to intervene."

I said, "Physical abusers were usually abused themselves when they were young. Was that true of Chester?"

Janet blushed and said, "Uhn-uhn. No."

"You're sure?"

She shuddered. "I'm sure. Your suggesting it is disconcerting, though. Neither Mom nor Dad was particularly affectionate toward- or effusive in their expressions of approval of-any of us. And Dad was particularly hard on-even cold with-Chester. Chettie was the oldest, and when it turned out he had no interest in the journalism profession-acquisitiveness was Chester's main interest in life from about the age of three-Dad had no more use for Chester. I think I can safely say he didn't like him. And it showed. Dad's characteristic way with Chester was either to ignore him-that's the way it was most of the time-or to snap at Chettie over niggling matters.

"Was there physical abuse? No. Can you term what I just described as psychological abuse? Maybe. Although, if it is, the legislatures had better not make it a felony without first spending billions of dollars on more prison cells. From what I've observed, as a style of parenting it comes dangerously close to being the norm in this country. Not that the current Congress is about to outlaw it, of course. Among the traditional family values cherished by the religious right, emotional abuse is surely high up in their pantheon, if their own biographies are any guide."