Arthur Hailey - Overload

Eric Humphrey, who, Nim remembered, had been eager to accept Paul Yale's word before, remained silent. Probably the chairman was thinking, as was Nim, that anyone who would lie once to protect his reputation would lie again for the same reason.

Inevitably, Nim was reminded of Harry London's question: "How many other times has the Honorable Paul done the same thing and gotten away with it?"

As the silence hung, the pain in the old man's eyes deepened.

"Nim," Eric Humphrey said quietly, "I don't believe it's necessary for you to stay any longer."

With relieif, Nim gathered up the papers on the table and returned them to the file while the other two watched. Taking the file with him, and with no further word spoken, Nim left.

He did not know it then, but it was the last time he would ever meet Mr. Justice Yale.

* * *

Nim never learned what else transpired in the chairman's office that day.

He didn't ask, nor did Eric Humphrey volunteer the information. But the end result was revealed the next morning.

At 11 am Humphrey sent for Nim and Teresa Van Buren. Seated at his desk, and holding a letter, he informed them, "I have received the resignation of justice Paul Sherman Yale as our public spokesman and a director of this company. The resignation has been accepted with regret. I would like an announcement made immediately to that effect."

Van Buren told him, "We should state some reason, Eric."

"Ill health." Humphrey referred to the letter in his band. "Mr. Yale's doctors have advised him that, at his age, the strain of his new duties at GSP & L has proven too -arduous. They have advised him to discontinue them."

"No problem," the PR director said. "I'll have it on the wires this afternoon. I have another question, though."

"Yes?"

"That leaves us without a spokesman for the company. Who takes over?"

For the first time the chairman smiled. "I'm too busy to search for someone else, Tess, so I suppose there's no alternative. Put the saddle back on Nim."

"Hallelujah!" Van Buren said. "You know the way I feel. It should never have been taken off."

* * *

Outside the chairman's office Teresa Van Buren lowered her voice, "Nim, give me the straight dope behind this Yale thing. What went wrong? You know I'll find out sooner or later."

Nim shook his bead. "You heard the chairman, Tess. Failing health."

"You bastard!" she shot at him. "For that, I may not put you on TV until next week."

* * *

Harry London read the published report of Paul Yale's departure and came to Nim the next day.

"If I had any guts," he declared, "I'd resign in disgust at that fiction about ill health and acceptance with regret. It makes all of us liars, just the way he is."

Nim, who had not slept well, said irritably, "So go ahead-resign."

"I can't afford to."

“Then knock off the holier-than-thou crap, Harry. You said yourself there's no way we could prove Mr. Yale was into power theft personally."

London said dourly, "He was, though. The more I think about it, the more I believe it."

"Don't forget," Nim pointed out, "that Ian Norris, who ran the Yale Family Trust, swore he wasn't."

"Yes, and the whole thing smells like a deal. Norris will get his payoff in some way later-maybe by staying on as trustee. Besides, Norris wouldn't have gained anything himself by involving the great man."

"Whatever we think, or don't," Nim said. "it's over and finished. So get back to work and catch more power thieves."

"I already have. There's a bunch of new cases, as well as others developing from the Quayle inquiry. But Nim, I'll tell you one thing for the future."

Nim sighed. "Go ahead."

"We've been part of a cover-up, you and me; a cover-up to protect that high-and-mighty Yale name. It goes to show there are still special rules and laws for those with pull and power."

"Look, Harry . . ."

"No, hear me out! What I'm doing, Nim, is serving notice that if I have clear evidence in any case in the future, no matter who it is, no one is going to stop me from bringing it out in the open and doing what has to be done."

"Okay, okay," Nim said. "If there's clear evidence, I'll fight it with you. And now we've settled that, please go, and let me get some work done."

When he was alone, Nim regretted having vented his had humor on Harry London. Most of what London had said, about the resignation statement being a lie and part of a cover-up, had already occurred to Nim, and troubled him last night, when he slept only fitfully. Were there degrees of lying? Nim didn't believe so. As he saw it, a lie was a lie. Period. In which case, wasn't GSP & L-in the persons of Eric Humphrey, who authorized a public falsehood, and Nim, who endorsed it by his silence-equally culpable as Paul Sherman Yale?

There could be only one answer: Yes.

He was still thinking about it when his secretary, Vicki Davis, buzzed and told him, “The chairman would like to see you immediately."

* * *

J. Eric Humphrey, Nim could tell at once, was unusually perturbed.

When Nim came in, the chairman was moving restlessly around his office, something he rarely did. He continued standing as he talked and Nim listened,

"There is something I wish to say to you, Nim, and shortly I will explain why," the chairman said. "Recently I have been ashamed and disgusted at certain events which have happened in this company. I do not like to feel ashamed of the organization which pays me a salary and which I head."

Humphrey paused, and Nim remained silent, wondering what was coming next.

"One matter for shame," the chairman continued, "has been dealt with within the past twenty-four hours. But there is another, larger issue which persists-the outrageous attacks upon the lives and property of this company."

“The FBI and police . Nim began.

"Have accomplished nothing," Humphrey snapped. "Absolutely nothing!"

"They have Birdsong in jail," Nim pointed out.

"Yes-and why? Because one intelligent, determined woman reporter was more resourceful than a veritable army of professional law enforcers. Remember also that it was information from the same young woman which resulted in those other blackguards at that Crocker Street house being shot and killed-their just deserts."

Only J. Eric Humphrey, Nim thought, would use words like "blackguards" and "just deserts." All the same, Nim had seldom seen Humphrey so openly emotional. He suspected that what was being said now had been bottled up inside the chairman for a long time.

"Consider this," Humphrey resumed. "For more than a year we have suffered the indignity of having our installations, even this headquarters, bombed by a ragtag, small-time band of terrorists. Worse still, it has cost the lives of nine of our own good people, not including Mr. Romeo Abo died at the Christopher Columbus Hotel. And that is something else! I am deeply ashamed that while we were the host city, the host company, to the NEI convention, that terrible episode was allowed to happen."

"I really don't believe, Eric," Nim said, "that anyone could, or does, blame GSP & L for what occurred at the Columbus."

"I blame us, and I blame myself, for not having been more insistent, earlier, that the law enforcement agencies do something. Even now, that vile man, the leader, Archambault, is still at large." Humphrey's voice had risen in pitch. "An entire week has gone by. Where is he? Why have the law enforcement agencies failed to find him?"

"I understand," Nim said, "that they're still searching, and they believe he's somewhere in the North Casle area."

"Where he is doubtless plotting to kill or maim more of our people, and do our company more injury! Nim, I want that villain found. If necessary I want us-GSP & L -to find him." Nim was about to point out that a public utility was not equipped to perform police work, then had second thoughts. He asked instead, "Eric, what do you have in mind?"