He thought about checking in with Hank but decided against it. Like Hank had said earlier, appearances needed to be maintained, so he grabbed his jacket and cell phone and left his office, walking straight to Building A.
The day seemed another summer scorcher. Both yesterday and Saturday had been marred by afternoon storms, a few turning violent with thunder and lightning. Today’s stifling humidity signaled a repeat in the making. The envelope with the originals from Bozin was safely hidden away in his parents’ garage, which seemed like the best place for it. The tape recording was gone, surely now in the hands of Hamilton Lee and Larry Hughes.
Inside Building A he zigzagged the carpeted halls directly to the CEO’s office and announced his presence to the assistant. The wooden door leading into the CEO’s private office was closed, but a man informed him they were waiting in the main conference room, the same room where, eleven days ago, he’d first talked to Christopher Bozin. He crossed the hall and opened the door. Two men sat at the long table.
“Come in, Brent,” one man said, rising and extending a hand to shake. “I’m Hamilton Lee.”
He kept his hands glued to his side.
Lee seemed to understand. “That any way to treat your employer?
He said nothing.
Lee withdrew his hand and motioned to the other man. “You remember Mr. De Florio, don’t you?”
He shot a stare at De Florio. Did he kill his father? Or was it one of his associates? No matter. Even if he didn’t personally perform the act, according to Bozin, De Florio definitely oversaw it all. Heresisted the temptation to leap across the table and strangle the son of a bitch.
He had to be smart here. Real smart.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Lee said. “Jon, please close the door.”
With little choice he took a seat along with Lee. De Florio sat after closing the door, which Brent noticed De Florio locked.
Lee said, “I understand you have some writings of Chris Bozin.”
“I understand you have a tape recording.”
Lee grinned. “I see why Hank Reed relied on you. You’re quick. Let’s just say the company decided not to associate itself with Mr. Greene.”
So the fool had tried blackmail. What an idiot. Did Greene think Southern Republic was just playing around? How did he think he could successfully pull that off? He congratulated himself on not succumbing to Greene’s offer of holding on to all the originals. Greene had been persistent, but something told him not to do it. Though now dead, he felt little sympathy for the bastard. Greene’s recklessness had placed them all in jeopardy.
“Now you’re dealing directly, without the middleman?” Brent asked.
Lee smiled. A thin irritating gesture he instantly disliked. “In a manner of speaking. So let’s be realistic. All I want are the things you have. As I’m sure you’ve surmised Bozin and I didn’t get along. His fanciful fiction about what this company has supposedly been doing doesn’t need to be aired publicly. It’s all lies. He just wants to harm me and this company. To do that he concocted some incredible malarkey.”
He noticed the two file folders lying on the table in front of Lee. “You have the copies of what Bozin gave me?”
Lee pointed to the top file. “Mr. Greene provided those. I’ve read the narrative and the two notes, and I listened to the tape. Like I’ve already told you, this is nothing but lies designed to hurt me, Mr. Hughes, and this company.”
“Those lies include what happened to my father?”
“That’s an excellent example of what I mean. Your father wasthe victim of a tragic boating accident. A terrible thing. Bozin, quite insensitively I might add, tried to fabricate murder. Don’t you think the police would have long ago come up with evidence to support that, if true?”
“Not necessarily.” He looked at De Florio. “From what I’ve been told your associates are good.”
De Florio’s face stayed like granite.
“Brent, we need to be reasonable,” Lee said. “I’m trying to make this as painless as possible. I see no reason for you to be involved in a personal feud between Mr. Bozin and myself. It was wrong of Chris to include you in the first place.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said I agree with. Unfortunately, it’s far too late to turn back now.”
“All I want are the original writings you have. After that, we can consider the matter dropped with your assurance there are no copies and you won’t be talking to the press or some prosecutor. You have my word nothing more will come from any of this.”
“You’ve got to be joking. I’m supposed to trust your word?”
“It appears you have little option. Greene said he had all of what Bozin left. I didn’t believe him.” Lee pointed. “Because you have it.”
“I have the originals. Greene had copies, except for a tape recording.”
