William Rabkin - Mind-Altering Murder

“Even for those of us who do not mourn the specific loss, the fact of Steve’s death must come as a shock to us,” D-Bob continued. “Because it can only remind us of our own mortality. It was the window in Ecclesine’s office that happened to fall out, but who is to say that it couldn’t have happened to any one of us lucky enough to have an office with a view? Or to any of our female employees that Steve might have called in for one of his standard sessions that never quite crossed over to the level of harassment?”

This time the murmur in the crowd sounded a little angrier, as several women seemed to realize for the first time that their experience was not unique.

“We are all going to die,” D-Bob said. “And it is times like this that we must stop and face that fact. That is what this memorial service is for. We come not to bury Steve Ecclesine, not to mourn him, but to let his death serve this great purpose for all of us. We are going to die, ladies and gentlemen, and in acknowledgment of that sad fact, let us seize this moment to vow that until that blackness descends we will live our lives to the fullest. Let us seize every day, embrace every moment, and cherish all that has been given to us. My employees, my friends, this memorial service is for you!”

He raised the beer glass again and saluted the crowd, who cheered loudly and raised their own glasses back to him.

“We love you, D-Bob!” Gus craned his neck to see who had yelled out, but it could have been almost anyone. The assembled employees were all gazing up at him with such affection he might have been their guru or their sainted father.

“I can tell you this death has affected me greatly,” D-Bob said once the shouts and cheers had died down enough for him to be heard. “Following the other tragic losses at our company, it has forced me to deal with the fact that I won’t be around forever to lead you.”

There were shouts of “No!” and “We love you” from the audience. He smiled and shook them off.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got no plans to go anywhere for a while,” D-Bob said. “But even when I do it’s not going to be a bad thing. A company needs new blood. And even though I like to think my ideas are every bit as fresh as they always have been, one man’s mind can only work in certain ways. We need other voices to stay young. And that’s why I’ve chosen this moment to announce a major change I’m going to be implementing at Benson Pharmaceuticals.”

The mass intake of breath from the crowd nearly sucked the light fixtures from the ceiling. Even Gus found that he was holding a lungful of air and he had to force himself to exhale.

“For years our executive structure has been simple and direct,” D-Bob said. “There’s me and then there’s everyone else. Sure, some of you have bigger offices or fancier titles. You’ve probably noticed we’ve got a lot of vice presidents in our company. But in terms of decision making, it’s been you wonderful people coming up with ideas, and me choosing whether or not to implement them. And it didn’t matter if that idea came from a senior vice president or the parking attendant in the garage. A good idea is a good idea and a bad idea can spark a good one.”

The crowd cheered at the sound of D-Bob’s favorite saying, but Gus was still stuck on the earlier part of the paragraph. There was no difference in the company between a vice president and a secretary? Had all his progress been meaningless? Was he simply fooling himself when he believed that he’d really found a place where he was valued?

“Our love of ideas isn’t going to change,” D-Bob said. “No matter what else happens, I can assure you of that. But I’ve realized it’s wrong for me to be the sole decision maker in this company. It’s time for me to start sharing some of those responsibilities, so that if something does happen to me, the company can still go on the way we all envision it. And that’s why I’m announcing that I am stepping aside as president of Benson Pharmaceuticals.”

For a moment, the audience was completely still. Then it erupted into murmurs, and then shouts of “No!” and “We love you!” D-Bob let the noise build, and then held up his hands for quiet.

“Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you,” he said. “I will be keeping my position of CEO and chairman of the board. But I’m tired of talking only to myself. So at our company-wide annual retreat next week in Santa Barbara, I will be announcing that I am appointing one person to be president of Benson Pharmaceuticals.”

The murmur now was mostly confusion and some concern. No one knew what this was going to do to their own jobs, or if they should even care.

Gus cared. He had fought his way to the level of executive vice president, which was the highest office in the company below D-Bob himself. Now he was going to be shoved down in the ranks, forced to answer to some corporate lackey. He’d had unbelievable freedom in his job, almost as much as he had with Psych. But he knew a little about corporate politics from his position in his old pharmaceuticals company and there was no way the new executive was not going to clamp down on everyone beneath him. Sure, he’d play the game, pretending to hold to D-Bob’s ideals, but at the same time he’d be spending every waking hour consolidating his own power base. This had been a dream job for Gus, but there was no way that was going to last once the new guy took over.

Gus was so lost in thought he missed D-Bob’s next few words.

“… a man who has shown not only wisdom but compassion,” D-Bob was saying. “Who understands what our business needs, but also what the world needs from our business. I have come to admire and even love this man, and as you see what he brings us I know that you will love him as much as I do.”

Sure, Gus thought. Kiss up and kick down. That’s what they’d be getting. The new corporate hack would make sure to echo D-Bob whenever the boss was around, but as soon as his back was turned, out would come the knives. First order of business would be to start eliminating any potential competition. One by one he would find reasons why the vice presidents had to be demoted or transferred to Kabul or forced out of the company. There would be a crisis overseas that only this longtime executive could handle, an incipient scandal that could only be prevented by the immediate firing of a vice president who could be made to take the fall. Gus wondered which excuse the new president would use to get rid of him, but deep down he knew it didn’t really matter.

“I’m sure that many of you already do love this man, as you’ve had the opportunity to get to know him over the past few weeks,” D-Bob was saying. “For the rest of you, you’ve got something great to look forward to. As I said, the official announcement will be made at our company retreat, but I wanted you all to have a chance to get to know our new president before he takes on that title. Friends, employees, partners, I’d like to introduce you to the president of Benson Pharmaceuticals: Burton Guster!”

Gus must have walked back to the Benson building, but he had no memory of the trip. The past two hours had gone by in a blur. From the moment D-Bob had called his name Gus had barely been able to think or even to breathe. He’d been mobbed at the meeting and every one of Benson’s employees had shown him the love that D-Bob had urged. They pressed food and drinks on him, they hit him with ideas for moving the company forward, or they just came up and hugged him.

But none of it meant as much to him as when Jerry Fellows came up and took his hand. “I’m so happy for you,” he said. “Chanterelle and I both are.”

And indeed Chanterelle did seem impressed. She was gazing at him with an intensity he’d never noticed before, at least not when her eyes were pointed in his direction.