T. Bunn - The Great Divide

At Logan’s request, Southerland explained why few employees knew where the products came from. The company’s policy was for all their products to be treated as New Horizons’ and not belonging to any particular factory. Some workers on the shop floor were resentful of products coming from foreign suppliers, he explained with an apologetic smile. The way the company handled this was, once a product entered their distribution center, to mark its origin only with a tiny inside tag, which was hidden by the packaging.

Charlie did his best on cross. He showed how each of the managers who had testified earlier had over a third of their total salary tied up in annual bonuses, which were given at the sole discretion of senior management. He then turned to the company’s policy of employee screening, and asked Southerland to describe the extensive background checks given to all managers. Was it not true that they did this, Charlie demanded, because of all the complaints that had been lodged by earlier managers about company practices? When Logan’s objection was upheld, Charlie changed his tack and asked if the company had ever had an independent audit of its overtime wage payments. That objection led to Charlie asking if the company were not currently under federal investigation for unfair labor practices.

Logan had not even bothered to sit down after his previous objection. “Your Honor, I must request you halt this line of questioning. In case everyone has forgotten, this trial is supposedly about a woman missing in China.”

Judge Nicols glanced at Charlie, who wearily struggled to fend off the strain of an overlong day. “Mr. Hayes, I must agree.”

Charlie allowed his shoulders to slump, speaking volumes to all who watched. “Plaintiff requests permission to recall this witness.”

“Permission granted.” Judge Nicols tried hard to keep the pity from showing. But she failed, and for Marcus her expression was the stamp of death to their case.

“Then for the moment we have no further questions.” Charlie felt it too. He slid into his seat and murmured so quietly Marcus could scarcely hear it himself, “Sorry, son.”

“You did fine.”

“Don’t dress the wounded with lies, son. It doesn’t help. They cleaned my clock, and we both know it.” Charlie used the knuckles of both thumbs to squeeze the fatigue and the perspiration from his temples. “All I could do was give you a chance to get in there later and deliver a few blows of your own.”

Marcus’ gaze followed Logan’s as the defense attorney rose and glanced at the wall clock. Marcus found it hard to believe it was only two-thirty. The day had already lasted the length of droughts and famines and plagues.

“We have just one more witness to call, Your Honor.” Logan was striving to hold the exultation from his voice. Juries disliked attorneys who assumed they had won. “But we cannot bring her forward until tomorrow morning.”

Judge Nicols bristled, “Are you now presuming to set the court’s schedule?”

“Not us, Your Honor, but our witness.” Logan’s voice rang with quiet triumph. “As our final witness, we intend to call the Attorney General of the United States.”

When Marcus reached for the phone that evening, he felt as if he were hefting his corner of the continent. Seeking to avert the earth’s natural course by shifting its axis several degrees. He dialed nonetheless, and said when the phone was answered, “Randall, this is Marcus Glenwood calling.”

“As I live and breathe, it surely sounds like you.” Randall Walker seemed positively joyous at the call. “I won’t ask how you are, because I already know.”

“I wanted to repeat my earlier offer.”

“You’re crushed, is how you are. Isn’t that right? Dead and don’t know it.” The man’s chuckle sounded wet, as though he were salivating at the prospect of a wonderful meal. “If you hush up a minute you can hear the hounds baying outside your door.”

“Let Gloria Hall go and we’ll make this all disappear.”

“What, and ruin the show? After all the hard work you’ve done bringing this crowd together? The press and the television and a general all the way from China? And now the attorney general of these United States?” Each word was punctuated a little more sharply than the one before. “We can’t disappoint all these fine folks, now, can we!”

“She’s dead, isn’t she.” Marcus heard the dirge in his own voice. “That’s why you didn’t let her resurface when all this started. Gloria Hall is dead.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Have you tried the embassy?”

“It’s the only reason you’d let this show drag on so long.”

“In case you didn’t notice, hoss, this ain’t my show. This is yours . You’re the one who’s pulled the whole world in close, so they’ll all have a bird’s-eye view.” The voice rasped with pent-up fury. “And now the whole world can watch you get skinned alive.”

Marcus felt it necessary to say it all, speak the words in a litany of sorrow over having let more people down. “You can’t release her because you don’t have her anymore. You must have slipped up somehow. I’m sure you never intended to let this happen.”

“I’ll be held responsible for just one death, and that one is yours. And don’t you think it’s ending when the jury comes back and says to the world, ‘We find for the defense on all counts.’ No sir. That’s when the fun starts. Right then and there, we’re gonna stake you out and sharpen the knives.”

Randall Walker had to stop and fight to breathe around a chest filled more with rage than air. “You ever heard of death by a thousand cuts? We’ll take you apart one tiny piece at a time. First your career, then what’s left of your good name, then every cent you have. We’re suing you for a frivolous claim and charging you for all our legal fees. And we’re gonna win. Yeah we are. Bankrupt you and take it all, right down to that fine fancy house you set so much store by. Already got me some good folks who’ll take it off my hands. Good folks, yeah, the kind who deserve a place like that.”

Marcus saw what was coming, and the realization struck like a stone-hard fist to his heart.

“New Horizons wants to turn it into a museum, people tramping through there looking at all the fine clothes they make, all the great stars who endorse their gear.” Randall Walker laughed aloud. “When they came to me, you know what I said? I told them it was a great idea. Such a fine plan, once we bankrupt you and claim the old place for our own, they can have it for a dollar.”

United States Attorney General Samantha Paltroe had a round face creased by worry and power, and wore her dark suit with the dignity of a judge’s robe. Both she and Judge Nicols greeted Logan Kendall’s approach with the full-bore sternness of long judicial practice.

Logan began, “We are most grateful that you would take the time to join us today, Madame Attorney General. Could you perhaps begin by telling the court what you have been forced to postpone in order to be here?”

“A meeting with the director of Interpol with regard to organizing efforts in the international war against drugs,” she responded in the deep bland drone made famous by hundreds of televised appearances. “A hearing before the Supreme Court, and attendance at a presidential cabinet meeting.”

Logan let the moment hang for emphasis, then continued, “The plaintiff has made a lot of fuss about alleged labor violations in China. Even if these allegations were true, which we adamantly declare they are not, do you not have a number of punitive measures at your disposal to deal with such international matters?”