The death benefits were a nuisance. Part of a collective bargaining agreement negotiated in the early 1990s, they required the company to pay money to a worker’s heirs based on a formula that took into account length of employment and amount contributed by the employee to the fund. It was a form of life insurance that had proved costly to finance. In the late 1990s, at Chris’ insistence, the benefit was removed from all three collective bargaining agreements. Some of the older employees, though, still possessed vested rights to payment.
“The bottom-line savings from all three, after paying death benefits, would be nearly $3 million,” Hughes said, “and that’s depending on how bad projected medical expenses on Numbers 7 and 8 turn out actually to be.”
“Perfect,” Lee said with a satisfied smile. “Those savings would be welcomed. We can redirect those moneys elsewhere.”
He was disgusted with the whole topic. More and more Lee, aided by Hughes, resorted to the list to make up the dollars lost from either loose management or downturns in the market. The Priority program had never been intended as that sort of redemption.
“Have files been prepared on these three?” Hughes asked.
Lee nodded. “When they were preauthorized in April, background work was done in anticipation of a May Prioritization. They are now ready for immediate processing.”
He knew the procedure. No one was Prioritized without first being preapproved and the appropriate background file generated. That way any issues or problems could be dealt with early.
“I move we Prioritize the remaining three from May’s list,” Lee said.
Hughes gave the motion life with a second.
“I’d offer an amendment to Number 7 of ‘firing only,’ not full processing,” Chris said.
The suggestion was not out of order. Not everyone was fully Prioritized. Occasionally, criteria were set—conditions imposing specific hows and whens on the manner of processing.
“Will you accept the amendment as offered?” Lee asked Hughes.
“No.”
“Neither will I. Any more discussion?”
He sat silent. Further argument was pointless.
“We’ll vote on the motion as offered by a show of hands. All those in favor? All opposed?”
Motion carried two to one.
10:30A.M.
BRENT KEPT ORGANIZING HIS OFFICE, FINDING THE THINGS HE NEEDEDin a supply closet down the hall. He didn’t have an assigned assistant. Instead, he and the general counsel shared the services of three ladies, all supervised by an attentive older woman named Martha Riddle, who’d worked at the mill for nearly a quarter of a century.
“We’re so glad to have you here,” Martha said to him. “I knew your father. He was a lovely man.”
He heard that a lot. “He definitely was.”
“We all miss him.”
As did he.
“How is your mother doing?”
“I think she’s glad to have her son back home.”
He and his mother had both decided to keep her medical conditionto themselves. Nobody’s business. He was curious, though. “Was this my predecessor’s office?”
She nodded. “It was. Peter was an excellent lawyer. A really hard worker.”
“How long was he here?”
“Five years. We all enjoyed working with him.”
He knew the man had died tragically by suicide. But beyond that he lacked for details.
