The Interior

24

DAVID PUSHED OPEN THE BIG GLASS DOOR OF THE ADMIN-istration Building, and the four of them entered. At the end of the hall they came to the heart of the company, where almost a hundred women dressed in nearly identical business suits sat in their cubicles, staring at computer screens or speaking on phones. David pushed Henry into one of the cubicles. The woman working there looked up startled, then, seeing Henry, stood up in some attempt at attention.

"Open the files, Henry," David ordered.

"I don't know how."

"Then ask her to do it."

Henry started to speak, but only a croak came out. He cleared his throat and said, "Please, Miss, can you look up my personal financial records?"

The young clerk stared at him, perplexed. Then she looked over his shoulder, past the other foreigner to Lo and Hulan. The woman looked sick; the other man, with his thick build and sour expression, was surely a government agent of some sort. The clerk's eyes came back to the owner of the company. "I don't have access to those records, sir," she said softly in English. "I only process our purchase orders from America."

Henry turned to David. "As I said before, this can't be of any help."

David signaled the woman to leave, and she edged out of the cubicle. David motioned for Henry to sit. "Type," David said.

Henry glared at David. "I told you I don't know how to use the damn thing."

"You're telling me that you-an inventor, a businessman, and a financial criminal-don't know how to use a computer?" David asked dubiously. When he spoke next, his tone was much harsher. "Look up the files."

Henry turned to the screen and put his fingers on the keyboard. He exited the program the young woman had been working in, went to the main menu, typed in his password, then his name, and up came a list of files: bio, company history, phone logs, travel, correspondence, but nothing on financial transactions. "Try Sun Gan," David said. Henry obeyed. Of course nothing happened, but David wanted further confirmation of Sun's i

David put a hand on Henry's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Henry. I know it would have been easier this way." Even in the air conditioning, Henry's shirt had turned damp with nervous sweat. David leaned down and said gently, "Let's finish this."

Without turning, Henry said softly, "I can't."

"You can. You have to."

Henry looked up at David, his face tormented. "Why?" The way the word ripped the air, David knew Henry was asking a fundamentally deeper question than simply responding to David's request.

"That's what we're going to find out. Let's go."

Sensing that something was amiss, the women had stopped working, had stood, and now silently gaped at the group as they threaded their way to one of the other corridors that led from the heart. They passed Sandy Newheart's office, but he wasn't there. They passed the posters of Sam amp; His Friends, each character colorful, harmless, i

Doug stood. "Dad, thank God. I've been hoping you'd show up. I've got good news. I've told Tartan I'm not selling. We're keeping the company. They can try their hostile takeover, but I've told Miles that I think we can fight them off."

Henry brought his hands to his face and held them there.

"Dad? Are you all right? Here, come sit down."

Doug took a step forward, but Henry's hand shot out. "No!"

Doug frowned, then shrugged as if to say, you simply couldn't predict the old man.

"It's over, Doug," Henry said at last.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Dad. It's over. I've shown Tartan the door."

"It's not as easy as he's making it sound," Miles said, his voice gritty. "Knight's gone too far to pull out now."

Doug's gaunt face turned crimson. "Don't listen to him, Dad. I've got things under control. I've made mistakes, and I hope you'll forgive me for them. But last night I saw what a fool I've been. Amy helped me. She made me realize this is our company. You and Grandpa built it. We can't let it go. I understand that now."

Henry, his wiry body looking so frail now, stared uncomprehend-ingly at his son, then suddenly walked past him and sat down at the table. The others, following his cue, also took seats. Henry shook his head, then said to David, "I can't do this."

"David, what's all this about?" Miles asked, slipping easily into his professional mode. "We had a deal on the table. It was accepted. We went forward. Then everything went to hell. Why? Fuck if I know. But I'm here because Randall's willing to put yesterday's rigmarole behind him. I'm guessing you're here because you've talked some sense into Mr.x Knight. So, let's finish this up and go home."

"You forget," David said. "I don't work for you anymore."

"I was out of line," Miles admitted. "As you pointed out, I can't fire you without a vote of the full partnership."

"Semantics," David said. "I quit. Does that satisfy you?" Miles's forehead creased as he processed this information. Then he said, "I apologize. Now, let's let bygones be bygones and get on with this." He reached out to the middle of the table and pushed the stack of contracts toward Henry.

The older man fingered the edges of the papers. "If I sign, this will all be over," he said. Again he turned toward David, waiting for an answer. David weighed these words. Could he let what he knew had happened go by unpunished for the sake of this old man? A year ago it wouldn't have been a question. His duty would have been clear. Punishment to the full extent of the law. No mitigating circumstances. No mercy. But since he'd found Hulan again, he'd changed. Sometimes the greater good meant looking the other way. What did Hulan call it? The one-eye-open, one-eye-closed policy? Henry's statement had also implied a question, and as David surveyed the faces in the room, he saw the myriad crimes and secrets that wouldn't be solved by a series of signatures.