William Bernhardt - Deadly Justice

“The pleasure is mine,” Rob replied. To his credit, Rob showed no trace of resentment over the loss of his case.

“As I said,” Crichton continued, “tomorrow we’re producing documents. It’s a paper blizzard, but you’ll have to endure it so you can be prepared for the depositions. Rob will tell you everything you need to know.”

“Gladly,” Rob said amiably. “I’ll come by your office around ten-thirty.”

“That’ll be fine,” Ben said.

“Great, great, great,” Crichton said. “I can tell already you two are going to hit it off. Ben, I’ll let you get on with your business. We’ll have a staff meeting later so you can meet the other lawyers. But don’t work too hard, okay?” He winked. “It’s your first day, for Pete’s sake. No one’s going to notice if you disappear around noon.”

Hearing his cue, Ben started to leave.

“And Ben,” Crichton added, “one last thing. If you need anything, and I mean anything , just come to me. Don’t feel like you have to mess around with the toadies and middlemen. Just come to me. Understand?”

Ben nodded, then followed Rob out of the office. The truth was, his nod was a lie. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand at all.

6

BEN SAT BEHIND HIS desk avoiding the view outside the window of his new office. Twenty floors up was nineteen too many for him. He focused on his deep-grain oak desk, his plush overstuffed chairs, and best of all, his desktop computer. He passed his hand over the smooth plastic finish. He felt breathless.

Christina appeared in the doorway. “What’s up, Doc?”

Ben continued to gaze at the computer. “I’m…uh…working with my new computer.”

“This isn’t Star Trek, Ben. You have to turn it on first.” She flipped the red switch on the side. The computer hummed and buzzed and, after a few seconds, a blue-and-white menu screen appeared.

“Look,” Christina said. “You have e-mail.”

“I have what?”

She sighed, then punched the Enter button. A new screen appeared, this one in the shape of a letter. It said: WELCOME TO APOLLO. LOOKING FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU. BEST OF LUCK. CHUCK CONRAD.

“Who’s Chuck Conrad?” Ben asked.

“The biggest lickspittle in the legal department, from what I hear.” She plopped down in one of Ben’s chairs. “Not bad office ambience, Ben. Very cushy. Heck of a lot better than what you had back at Raven, Tucker & Tubb.”

“No kidding.”

“So how was your first day as homme d’affaires for Apollo?”

“Incredible. I can’t believe the treatment I’ve been getting. They’ve really rolled out the red carpet.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, chum.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing in particular. I just know megacorporations don’t do anything expensive without a reason. There must be a catch. You just haven’t spotted it yet.” She punched an overstuffed cushion. “You’ve been too busy enjoying the empirical evidence.”

“What a cynic. What’s your office like?”

“Perfectly ordinary. Space dividers split it down the middle. I share with three other legal assistants.”

“That stinks.”

“I’m used to it. Legal assistants always get treated like dirt, especially by gigantic people processors like Apollo.”

“Well, since they’re gaga for me, at least for the moment, maybe I can use my vast influence to get you a more spacious office.”

“Don’t sweat it.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “Say, what did you think of Crichton?”

“He had some good points and some bad points.”

“What are the bad points?”

“Well, I suspect he’s every bit as sexist as you said he was.”

“What are the good points?”

“He loves me.”

“Ah. Don’t let him get past second base on the first date.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Did he tell you about this humongous document production tomorrow?”

“Yeah. He’s putting me in charge of the case. I get to depose the plaintiffs day after tomorrow.”

“Great. You’re in line for the glory. To me, it’s just sludge. By the way, I stopped by your former office this morning.”

“How is Jones doing?”

“Not bad, considering that his Number One Boss Man has dumped him for greener pastures.”

“We could probably get him a job here.”

“Just give him time to adjust. I’m sure he’ll—”

“Excuse me. Am I interrupting?” Rob Fielder was standing in the doorway.

“Not at all, Rob,” Ben said. “We were just comparing notes. Have you met Christina?” He introduced them. “You need something?”

“Just you. We’re about to start our staff meeting. Normally we meet first thing in the morning, but we delayed it so you could participate.”

“Great. Come on, Christina.” Christina fell in behind him.

Fielder twitched. “I’m…sorry. I’m afraid the meeting is just for attorneys.”

Ben stopped in his tracks. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing personal. It’s just that we, uh, discuss many confidential matters, and if any nonattorneys were present, it might destroy the privilege.”

Ben frowned. “Christina, I’m sorry—”

She patted Ben on the shoulder. “No problem. Like I said, I’m used to it. I’ll just crawl back to my quarter of my office and try not to get in anybody’s way.”

She stopped on her way out and added, “But I may sneak back while you’re gone, Ben. Just to sit in your chair.”

7

THE CONFERENCE ROOM WAS perfect for a staff meeting; it must have been designed for just that purpose. The room was long and rectangular, as was the mahogany table that occupied its center.

Fielder steered Ben toward an empty seat a few chairs down from one end of the table. “Crichton sits at the head,” he explained.

“Who sits beside him?”

“Depends. It’s a battle of the ass-kissers. Chuck is generally considered Apollo’s king of suck-up, but Herb is a close second.” He glanced at the doorway. “There’s Herb now. Uh-oh—Chuck is right behind him. Let’s see what happens.”

Ben saw a thin man with a Bugs Bunny mouth enter the room, followed by a burly, somewhat older man with thinning hair and a waistline that lapped over his belt. Herb and Chuck, apparently.

They both saw the empty chair beside the head of the table at the same time. Herb darted around the north end; Chuck sprinted south. The race was on. Halfway through, Herb saw Chuck approaching and accelerated. Chuck matched his speed and they both ended up on opposite ends of the chair almost simultaneously.

“Back off,” Chuck growled. “This chair’s taken.”

“Is not,” Herb replied. “I was here first.”

“You sat here last time.”

“And I’m going to sit here again, chump.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Says who?”

“Says—”

“Children, children,” Rob interjected. “Let’s not bicker. You can both sit in the chair. Chuck, you first. And Herb, you can sit in his lap.”

Ben covered his smile as best he could.

Chuck grumbled something inaudibly, shoved the chair aside, and stomped to the other end of the table.

“Sore loser,” Ben commented.

“Very.” Rob glanced at the door again. “Now this is Candice, or, as we call her just to irritate her, Candy. Watch what happens now.”

Ben saw a slender woman in her early thirties enter the conference room. She wore her business suit well; she was extremely attractive, if a bit on the anorexic side. She scanned the available seats at the table, then made a beeline for the empty seat between Herb and Ben.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, loud enough to be heard throughout the room. “Looks like I’m stuck with Herb again.”