Chance Encounter Ch. 02

Harry and Jim looked at Paul with puzzled expressions.

"She's a friend of mine who lives here. She works at Northwestern. I promised that I'd call her when I was in town. Don't worry! She's great! You'll like her."

Harry and Jim gave each other that 'what is he up to' look and Paul saw them.

"Look, you two, not a word of this to anyone!" Paul ordered and pleaded.

"No problem, no problem," They promised.

While they waited for Glenda they ordered another round and traded new war stories.

Glenda appeared at the entrance to the cocktail lounge about forty-five minutes later. Paul spotted her and motioned her over. The three men stood and Paul made the introductions.

Glenda had just come from work and was wearing her navy suit. She looked nice, but not provocative. As she sat at the table it was easy to see that she would fit right in with the group.

"I have to be home by eleven at the latest, Paul. I have a busy day tomorrow." She cautioned him.

"That's alright; we have a flight out at nine, ourselves." Paul countered.

The unstated question was answered. Glenda wouldn't be making it to Paul's room that night. Paul was just happy to see her and treat her to dinner and drinks. Jim and Harry knew that they wouldn't be expected to 'disappear' at an early hour.

Jim and Harry liked Glenda right away. Paul knew that they would. She had the knack of treading the fine line between being 'one of the boys' and being too much a lady. After a short time, a person would think that Glenda had known the three of them for years. She tolerated their inside 'shop talk' without pouting. She joined in at laughing at Harry's bawdy jokes. Somehow, Harry knew that he could tell them without embarrassing her. Glenda probably knew a few of her own, but didn't tell any. She kept up with their rounds of drinks and lit into a steak at the dinner table. Who could ask for more in a woman?

At the end of the evening everyone, including Glenda (finally), agreed that it would be more prudent to ship her home in a cab than to allow her to go back to the lot at Northwestern and get in her car. It would be another commute in the 'L' the next morning.

At the airport the next day Paul and Jim Spencer were in the coffee shop waiting for their flight, nursing hangovers.

"Rough night—last night." Paul mumbled. "You've gotta do it every once and a while—whether you need it or not!"

"I'll second that!" Spencer exclaimed. "By the way, that Glenda is quite a trooper. She's a very nice person, too."

"Thanks, Jim." Paul answered. "We would like to keep this to ourselves, please."

"No problem." Spencer vowed.

"It's not that there's anything to hide." Paul explained. "It's just easier for us to not have an audience."

Jim nodded that he understood.

*******************

The next day Paul sat in his office reviewing his presentation for the upcoming Shareholders' Meeting. He also had a call in to Larry Wilton, Administrator of the Illinois Environmental Agency. He was only slightly acquainted with Wilton, having met him a few years before at a Chemical Engineering Symposium at the University of Illinois. That was when the Peoria project was in the opening concept stages. They had spoken a few times since by telephone.

Paul's secretary, Marge, buzzed to let him know that Wilton was on the line.

Paul: Hello, Larry. This is Paul Crane speaking. I want to thank you for that Peoria permit.

Wilton: Glad we could do it, Paul. What's on your mind today?

Paul: Didn't Craig Morehead give you my message?

Wilton: No, can't say that he did. What was the message?

Paul: It's Grafton, Larry! It's his job at Montgomery! It's a conflict of interest. He held that project up for almost two years, now he's got a cushy job at the competitor with the most to lose by the project going through.

Wilton: I know that it looks bad, but there's no proof of anything 'untoward'.

Paul: Yes, there is proof, Larry. It just hasn't been found yet, and I'm betting that it will be very 'untoward'.

Wilton: If you have any evidence, I'll have our staff take a look at it.

Paul: No! That's your job. I'm calling you to ask for an investigation, Larry. I'm sure that Morehead knows something. Get him to talk.

Wilton: It's not that easy, Paul. I know that you're upset. You have your permit now. Grafton is moving out of state. I didn't like the sudden move, either, but we'll just have to get over it and move on.

Paul: That's not going to cut it, Larry. I think that you and I need to have a face-to-face. I'll call you after our Shareholders' Meeting. I'd like some time on your calendar.

The two men said their goodbyes. Their mood was tense. They hung up.

The result of the phone call had been unsatisfying, but expected. Paul knew that Wilton had the same suspicions as he, but would not start digging in a hole that he didn't know the depth of in advance. For Paul's part, he knew that he and his company had little to gain, except the exposure of governmental corruption. Paul weighed his responsibility to the corporate bottom line against his Company's long-term interests. Cleaning up this type of dishonesty would mean better sledding for future projects. Word would get around to 'play it straight' when dealing with Dunn Chemicals. Paul decided to give it some thought later, after he cleared some details from his desk.

Marge buzzed Paul again. Jim Spencer had to see him right away about the Peoria project.

"We just got served," Jim began. "There's a temporary injunction stopping the issuance of the construction permit for the plant, pending lawsuit."

"You're kidding!" Paul sighed. "I just spoke to Larry Wilton. He didn't mention it." "He probably is just finding out right now." Spencer explained. "The suit is brought by Concerned Scientists of America. We're defendants, as well as the State of Illinois and the City of Peoria. Hopkins just issued a press release."

"I should have figured that Hopkins would try something backdoor!" Paul exclaimed. "Where are they getting the money?"

"Their lawyers are working pro-bono," Spencer explained. "It's an outfit called Northwestern Law School Outreach. It's composed of professors from that school, with third year students looking for experience. It's the same outfit that held up the Chicago Waterfront Project."

"Call Harry Carmichael," Paul ordered. "Make sure that he's sitting down—then fill him in. Tell him to keep the Mayor in Peoria calm. They might jump ship if they see a costly lawsuit ahead."

"I assume that Wilson has this already." Paul asked. Spencer nodded. Ted Wilson was the in-house Corporate Counsel.

Paul pressed the buzzer for Marge and summoned her into his office.

"Marge, set up a meeting between Ted Wilson and me. Jim, here, should be there, too. Ask Karen Walsh in Public Relations to attend also. Priority Number One, please."

It was a bitter taste for Paul. The victory, claimed after such great toil, had the potential of a complete reversal. There were so many complications. Paul had other projects working and many people depending on him. This simple plant had imposed too great a burden on his time and resources already. The company could do without this plant. Perhaps, he thought, the smart play would be to move on. That would be a Management Committee topic.

If Paul's Company and the State Agency became co-defendants, it would be hard to force Wilton to pursue Grafton. A big delay would let the culprit off scot-free.

Paul thought of Glenda. Her employer was now the attorney for the plaintiff in a suit against Paul's Company. When Jim Spencer said the words 'Northwestern Law School', a bitter chill had coursed through Paul. He knew how difficult, if not impossible Glenda's position could be, as well as his own because of their relationship. He would have to speak to Wilson about it. He would wait to put in a call to Glenda until after the meeting.

As he sat pondering the turn of events, Marge buzzed him. She told him that Arthur Hopkins was on the line.

Paul knew that Hopkins was calling to gloat. He thought of not taking the call, but he hoped that his foe might disclose something accidentally, so he picked up the phone.

Hopkins: Hello, Paul! Did you get any interesting reading material today?

Paul: Why are you doing this, Arthur? You and I both know that you don't give a damn about that plant, and we both know that the Montgomery money has run out. I don't understand your interest in this.

Hopkins: I've got to do it, Paul. If I let you get the better of me like this I'll never get hired again by anyone. I had great plans for that Montgomery money. It could have gone on a lot longer. You have cost me big time. I can't let this go.

Paul: Then, Arthur, it's all about you.

Hopkins: Yes, I suppose it is—but it's about you too. You're going to pay a bigger price than I ever will. I'll lose money, but you're going to lose a lot more. You shouldn't have trifled with me.

Paul: What are you talking about, Arthur? On second thought, don't answer that. I don't think that we should be having this conversation.

Paul hung up. Hopkins' last words puzzled him. What could Hopkins do to him? Paul thought perhaps he meant some demonstration at the upcoming Shareholders' Meeting to embarrass him.

"I'm slipping!" Paul scolded himself. "I should have seen this coming."

He wondered again about Hopkins' strange threat. He convinced himself that his idea about the Shareholders' Meeting was probably wrong. That move would be too weak to match the threat. What Hopkins could have meant eluded Paul. He would just have to wait and find out.

"I should have taken it easy on him after the meeting yesterday!" Paul said aloud in the empty office. He put that thought aside. The lawsuit had certainly been planned far in advance.

**********

The meeting with the legal team was breaking up. It was decided to meet the lawsuit head-on. Buckling would haunt the Company in future projects. They would fight it out. It was, at least, the decision for the time being.

"Can I speak to you privately, Ted?" Paul asked as the people shuffled out of the room.

Ted Wilson and Paul had been friends for years. They crossed paths often in their work. They belonged to the same golf club. They were both consummate professionals and respected each other.

"Ted," Paul began, "there's something personal involving this lawsuit that I didn't want to bring up in front of the others."

"What have you got?" Ted asked.

"I recently struck up a ... relationship ... with a woman who works for Northwestern University. You know what I mean by a relationship, I'm sure."

Ted nodded.

"Anyway, her job is secretary to the Dean of the Law School. It's the same outfit that's representing the plaintiffs."

"I see!" Ted raised his eyebrows. "Did you ever discuss the lawsuit or anything about the Peoria project with her?"

Paul shook his head.

"I'm sure that you're asking if it's a conflict of interest for you to go on seeing her." said Ted. "Actually, you're in luck. The actual attorney for the plaintiff is not the Law School, but the 'Outreach' organization. The Law School sponsors it, but they are legally separated. Technically, there is no conflict. My advice is to keep the topic off the table when you're with her and keep yourselves low-key when you're together. There's no point in inviting attention."

"So, I'm in the clear on this?" Paul clarified.

"Yes, from our side, I would say so, as it stands now. Again, just keep things low-key. Keep me informed. By the way, when do we get to meet her?"

"Like you said, we're keeping it low-key," Paul laughed.

"Bring her around to the club when you think the time is right," Ted answered.

Paul breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized until that day how important Glenda had become to him. He had thought that he might have to break it off with her. Wilson was a big help. He would call her when he got back to his office.

***********

At the same moment, at Northwestern School of Law in Chicago, Glenda was called into the office of her boss, Dean Randall Judson. Besides the Dean and Glenda, Arthur Hopkins was also there. Glenda peered onto the Judson's desk and saw her personnel file sitting on the desk in front of him. She looked up and saw the grim expression on the men's faces. Judson spoke.

"Glenda, this is Dr. Arthur Hopkins of Concerned Scientists of America. They have just become clients of the 'Outreach Program'. Glenda rose to shake hands, but Judson put up his hand to stop her.

"There is a conflict of interest involving you because of this client relationship. Dr. Hopkins has brought it to my attention."

"I don't know what it could be, Dean!" exclaimed a puzzled Glenda. "You have been seen in the company of Paul Crane of Dunn Chemical. We are suing them. Northwestern is our legal representative," Hopkins declared. "In fact, you boarded a plane with a ticket that he paid for, and spent the weekend with him in his cabin on the peninsula."

"How do you know my private business?" Glenda was angry and concerned.

"Usually, we don't disclose our methods, but so you know that we can find things out, I'll tell you," Hopkins began. "By chance, an associate of mine, who used to work for the State, saw you two having drinks in the barroom of Keefer's restaurant. After that, it was simple."

"We followed you to the airport when you took that vacation day; we paid the airline agent for the destination and payment details, and had our private investigator find the location of Crane's cabin in Michigan. You were even photographed during your 'morning swim'. I have the pictures—telephoto lens. You have a scar on your left knee, and you have birthmark on ... well, you know where you have a birthmark."

A wispy smile snaked across Hopkins' lips. Glenda could see that he was enjoying his cruel little game. She tried to be determined to not grant him the satisfaction of seeing her reaction, but tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't help it.

"As a client of ours," the Dean began, "Dr. Hopkins has insisted that we relieve this conflict. We have to insist that you break off your relationship with Mr. Crane right away."

"I've done nothing improper," Glenda pleaded.

"That's not the point," the Judson countered.

I don't work for the 'Outreach'. I work for the Law School. They are different," Glenda argued.

"Policy decision—my call." said the Dean.

"What if I don't agree?" asked Glenda.

"You'll be fired," answered Judson. "Glenda," continued Judson, leaning forward. "I don't want to fire you, but there is no compromise possible here. I know you—you're thinking of fighting this. Don't! Remember that when you took this job at Level Six - Confidential Secretary you had to leave the Employees' Union. You're all alone on this. Think of your career! Think of your pension!"

"I want a transfer!" Glenda demanded.

"No transfer!" said Judson, shaking his head.

"Why are you doing this? Who gave you the right?" she demanded. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Don't try to cheat!" Hopkins blurted out. "You know now that we have ways of finding things out."

"If you do cheat," warned the Dean. "We'll have to fire you. Now, there's something for you to sign. It's just an acknowledgment of our agreement this afternoon—for your personnel file. There is also a stand by agreement to allow us to tap your home phone, if we so desire, without notice."

Glenda could barely see the papers through her tears, but she signed them. She had no choice.

"At least let me call him to let him know," Glenda pleaded.

"I'll do that for you!" a suddenly jovial Hopkins exclaimed.

"That won't be necessary, Arthur. We've done enough!" proclaimed Judson. He turned to Glenda. "Call him from your home phone after hours. I'm sorry, Glenda. This is just the way it has to be. You'll get over it. I hope there are no hard feelings."

"You mean I have to like it, too?" she asked sarcastically.

The two men sat silently.

"It's really my fault." Glenda declared. "A person should know better than to reach too far. It's always so tempting. I knew better. I was a two-time loser. Now I'm a three-time loser."

She slowly turned to leave the office. Before she completed her about face, she saw the smile of pleasure retrace across Hopkins' face. She wished that she could smack that smirk off him, but she knew that she never would.

*************

TO BE CONTINUED

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