AFTER THE BOARD MEETING as he mingled among KemKor’s representatives and government officials—Premier Bolsover having already left—Edward couldn’t help thinking that the accolades being showered on him were somewhat premature; the efficacy of his new filtering system was still untested on a large scale. Experience told him that start-up costs always exceeded projections, and he had no doubt that his system, by the time it was up and running, would be no exception. Yet right or not, the mixed message sent by his accidental observation at Building 3C last evening had left Edward distrustful of the company’s intentions. Edward’s attention was drawn to the bombastic voice of the CEO, William Wardlaw Rattray, who had conspicuously positioned himself apart from the group.
William Rattray was a short, plumpish, full-faced individual with a crop of wavy red hair sitting atop it. His face and neck tended to redden whenever excited, and this was one such occasion. He was impeccably dressed in a navy-blue suit, white shirt, red tie and cognac-coloured, leather-laced shoes. On his lapel was an 18-karat gold pin with both the Canadian and Ontario flags.
“Gentlemen!” Rattray exclaimed, smiling and bowing in deference to the only female member present, Marilyn Ferguson, who stood slightly off to his left. “And, lady!” He redirected his attention to the group in front of him and continued. “This day heralds a new horizon for KemKor Pharmaceuticals and cannot go unrecognized without champagne and some mignardises. Once my assistant, Jeremy, arrives, I shall begin.”
As if on cue, the door at the far corner of the room opened, and Jeremy Brown, a short, trim, middle-aged, balding man, wheeled in a cart filled with champagne. Behind him, a young girl pushed another cart with several trays of petit fours and champagne glasses, which she arranged on the conference table before leaving. Each popping sound from opening bottles was celebrated throughout the room with cheers.
Filled champagne glasses in-hand, all present formed into a horseshoe configuration in front of Rattray. John Elkhart edged to the back of the group to join Marilyn Ferguson. Once Jeremy picked up his glass, William Rattray began.
“One of my greatest pleasures, Edward,” he said, turning to face him, “was to see the incredible success you have achieved—and, by association, the benefits our company has accrued because of it. On behalf of all of us, may I say that your ethos, training and methodology have come together today to bring us to this highly favourable crossroad. Thank you!”
A crescendo of cheers and clapping filled the room. Once the salutatory praise ceased, Rattray raised his glass and recited a short poem:
“Here’s to you, Edward, as good as you are,
And here’s to me, as bad as I am;
But, as good as you are, and as bad as I am,
I am as good as you are, as bad as I am.”
Laughter echoed throughout the room as the participants raised their glasses, clinked together and quickly emptied them.
Unaccustomed to such notoriety, Edward felt a warm flush bathe his face. With a slightly shy stance, he raised his flute in gratitude and quickly thanked them, and then watched as many returned for more champagne.
Rattray gave his special engraved champagne flute to Jeremy and walked toward Edward. “You should be very pleased with yourself, Edward, notwithstanding, of course, that it was I who made it happen through my status, my contacts and my money. But you already know that. Putting that aside for the moment, your presentation knocked their socks off. You have arrived. Hmm…?”
“Arrived?”
“Yes, my boy! You may now eat the crumbs off my table. Most are not good enough,” he said, extending his hand.
Edward smiled and shook it. “I’m not sure I understand, sir.”
“You will. Your preparedness and presentation for today’s meeting, I deem most laudatory. I can see you are puzzled by that statement.” Rattray released his grip from Edward’s and moved closer. “You see, Edward, after last evening’s … unfortunate events, I expected—how should I say it?—a performance on your part far less than I got. You were able to separate out the baggage of last evening and that trait I respect highly.” He patted Edward’s shoulder. “I know you want to talk about last evening, and we shall—just not now. Now, what I do look forward to is working closer with you.”
Rattray signaled to Jeremy to retrieve Edward’s flute, and once done, Rattray and Edward headed through the doors of the boardroom and out into the quiet solitude of the hall, where Rattray turned to face him. “It’s time I rolled my sleeves up and got more involved in your project, Edward. Get my hands dirty, so to speak,” he said, smiling. He took on a soberer façade before continuing. “Firstly, we shall talk directly—not through Elkhart or meetings similar to this. Like you, Elkhart is very thorough. It’s always reassuring, though, when it comes from the horse’s own mouth, don’t you think?” Rattray stepped closer. Edward tried to step away, but he was stopped by the column behind him.
Rattray briefly rubbed his hands together in a washing motion. “Secondly, to make this happen, next Wednesday report directly to me at nine in the morning. I’ll set aside an hour—more, if it’s deemed necessary. And John, as my liaison and your project manager, will also be present. The frequency of such meetings will be decided then. From time to time, schedules will conflict, but flexibility must reign. Bottom line: our filtration system must be fully functional in Building 3C sooner, not later.”
Edward looked down the barrels of Rattray’s grey steely eyes and knew he had to acquiesce. “I agree. Our efforts must be stepped up. But now, I have no idea whether the settling pool or run-off piping and valves are installed yet. Assuming nothing unforeseen occurs, prototypes of the five filters and their respective components should be in place once Building 3C is ready to receive them. But I need a final timetable to ensure a smooth run up to that eventuality, and John hasn’t provided me with one yet—I’m working in the dark.”
“Your component completion estimates were sent to him, and you’ve spoken to him?”
“I have, and he does have my specs and dates.”
“Hmm, I see. Surely the two of you, being friends, can resolve this? Eh?” Edward nodded. “So, I assume you want to scrap my earlier suggestions?” Rattray rejoined.
“Not at all,” Edward quickly retorted. “I’m suggesting daily, real-time reports during the actual testing mode. That’s when it counts most, when everything’s in place. It allows us to interpolate the results and extrapolate actual start-up time.”
“Hmm, okay. Still, based on what you’ve just told me, the three of us will meet next Wednesday. At that time, the timetable will be resolved and in my hands. Natasha will call you with the time. The retrofitting of Building 3C has been much slower than I expected, and as of today, that must change.” A wide smile crossed Rattray’s face. “Once you’re up and running, I’ll want the results and your personal appraisals to come directly to me. Any meetings needed to apprise pertinent others will be left to your discretion, in consultation with me.”
Edward nodded his agreement and shook hands with Rattray to cement it, uncertain what exactly that handshake really meant. “I was very sorry to hear about your brother,” he said.
“Thank you. You know, Edward, only the strong survive life’s nasty twists.” Rattray played with the diamond ring on his pinkie. “I guess my brother wasn’t among the strong.”
Edward said, “He will be missed.”
“I’ve been told.” Rattray looked back toward the doors to the boardroom.
“When’s the visitation and funeral?” Edward asked. He slid around the column and stepped to one side to lengthen the distance between them.
“The visitation will be tomorrow, and the funeral is on Friday. I’ll have Natasha fill you in with the details. It will be published in tonight’s Chronicle and all the major newspapers.”
“By the way, thank you for that toast, Mr. Rattray. It was … quite different.”
“It was an old Scottish toast.”
When Jeremy Brown joined them, Edward thought the conversation had ended—until Rattray sent Jeremy to the elevator and told him to hold it.
“Edward, the R & D of your project has, for the most part, been outside this company’s auspices. Sure, we’ve freed up your time to solely concentrate on it, and we’ve provided you with the site to test it, but outside of that, that’s it. The rider in your contract with KemKor governing the ownership of patents is time specific, and that time, as I’m sure you are aware, is about to expire. I don’t know of any other company that would have agreed to the inclusion of such a rider. A number of our key benefactors have voiced concerns. Now, I hope my trust wasn’t misplaced. Before you came to KemKor, I understood that some of the developmental stages were being handled by Grynberg Laboratories and Research Facility. Is that still the case?”
Edward was taken aback. He’d thought this was a closely guarded secret.
“No need to answer,” Rattray continued. “Your expression gave it away. See David DeLuca in Legal first thing Monday morning; he will be expecting you. Keeping abreast of such things is important to all of us, as I’m sure you are aware.” The CEO patted him on the arm and said, “Again, Edward, job well done today! My filters are in good hands.”
Rattray then left to join Jeremy at the elevator. As the elevator’s doors began to close, Rattray yelled out to Edward. “See DeLuca first thing Monday morning, and no excuses.”
Edward drew in a deep breath, and when he saw John come out of the boardroom, he checked the time on his watch. He needed to talk to him, and he also wanted to obtain scraping samples from the effluent tap. Convinced he still had enough time to pick up the flowers at the flower boutique for Karen’s gravesite, he waited for John to come over.
John Elkhart stood talking with Marilyn Ferguson. Her auburn hair was combed into a bun, and she was dressed in a pin-striped grey business suit. Her meteoric climb to success had garnered much interest in the business community. She did not suffer fools well, but she was known to be as straight as they came.
Marilyn glanced at Edward as she and John spoke.
When the elevator doors opened, she shook hands with John and ran toward the waiting elevator, nodding and silently mouthing congratulations to Edward as she passed by him. When the elevator doors closed, John headed toward him. “Well done in there today, Eddy! Well done!”
John exuded youthfulness in his gait. He had a swath of curly blond hair, and large blue eyes.
Giving Edward congratulatory pats, he said, “You won that old buzzard of a premier over. Only one way to go now, and that’s up!” Briefly, he surveyed Edward. “Now tell me, what did our CEO have to tell you? I’d bet after today, he’s prepared to give you the whole damn world. Well, am I right?”
“Not exactly, John.” The doors to the boardroom flung open and the rest of the people in the meeting spilled out into the hall.
“Is there something wrong?” John asked.
“Karen,” replied Edward in a soft voice. “We really should talk, John. I just don’t have a lot of time.”
“Oh! How could I have forgotten? It was two years ago today, wasn’t it?” Edward nodded. “Yes, of course. I should have … I’m sorry,” John said. “Your office or mine?”
“Mine.”
The two of them entered Edward’s office and closed the door behind them. “Johnny Walker Blue okay with you, John?”
John had wandered over to Edward’s desk. “You need to ask?” John replied, running his finger along the desk’s edge. “Johnny will do just fine.”
“Single ice, isn’t it?” Edward asked, sliding the pocket door open and entering the room behind it.
“You got it, Buddy.”
John lifted the picture of Karen from the desk.
“Sit in one of those wing chairs; I’ll be out in a jiffy,” Edward called out.
Placing the photo down, John casually wandered to the book shelves lining the wall beside the area Edward designated. He was perusing the book “The Morbid Age: Britain between the Wars” when Edward returned with the drinks.
“I didn’t know you were a history buff, Eddy,” John said. He restored the book to its proper place on the shelf and turned to face Edward.
“I’m not really. That particular book just caught my interest,” Edward replied. He gave John his drink and motioned for him to sit down.
They sat in silence drinking until John leaned toward Edward. “Eddy, I’m really sorry.”
“So am I.” Edward swallowed the rest of his drink. “You want more?”
“Not right at this moment. But, Eddy, go easy on that stuff.”
“Not to worry. What do you say I bring the bottle back and park it between us?”
“Sure, if that’s what you’d like.”
With the Johnny Walker Blue between them, Edward poured a small second drink and shifted toward the edge of his chair. “You spoke with Paul.”
“I did.”
“I saw what I saw. It wasn’t some goddamn drunken stupor of a dream. It happened!”
John said, “Stop beating yourself up—I believe you. I told Paul that as well.”
“Thank you.” Edward edged forward on the wing chair. “What’s next?”
John savoured his next drink and sat back, scrutinizing Edward. “Well, 3C will have to be tested for residue. Our lab will do that. I told Paul that if we came up with something, that information would be passed on to him.” He placed his glass on the table beside him. “You do know, Eddy, what you said you saw last evening sounds … well, way out there.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? Isn’t that the problem.?”
“I guess it is. I just hope that something shows up when our lab people go in to test.”
“Me, too.” Edward finished his drink and placed it on the table between them. “What do you know about Building 3C?”
“Same as you,” John replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Why?” He got up, glass in hand, and crossed the room to one of the leather chairs opposite Edward and sat down.
“Is Building 3C anywhere near functional?” Edward asked.
“If it is, that’s news to me.”
“How much longer?”
“Three months, max, provided your final filter is ready for testing.” He sipped his drink and scrutinized Edward over the brim of his glass.
“The filter will be ready,” Edward reassured him. “What about the timetable you promised? It’s been long in coming.”
“I know—sorry about that. It will be in your hands by the end of this week. Promise.”
“I’ve been wondering since last evening what those men would have been transporting to the van. You wouldn’t have any suggestions, would you?
John shrugged and replied, “You’re asking me? How the hell would I know? What colour was the van?”
“White.”
John gulped his drink down, got up and went to Edward’s desk. He placed the empty glass on it, picked up the phone and punched in four digits. “Chris? No, I want to speak to Chris Stedman.” He played with the letter opener while he waited. “Chris, John Elkhart here. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d like you to review the surveillance tapes between nine and eleven yesterday evening for a white van leaving the grounds.” John glanced at Edward for confirmation and, getting it, continued. “I want to know about any irregularities, small or great, around Building 3C.” John placed his hand securely over the mouthpiece and turned to Edward. “The cameras in the Building 3C area have never been functional. According to Chris, Rattray told security not to waste their time on a non-active area.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” retorted Edward, exasperated.
John’s attention returned to his phone call. “Activate those cameras around Building 3C immediately. Again, check your tapes for a white tradesmen van that might have come onto the grounds sometime yesterday and left during the time frame I just gave you. I’m returning to my office. Phone me there once you’ve done it.” He hung up the phone. “Well, I guess we’ll wait and see. Is there anything else before I head off? You do know that Rattray won’t want the police on this unless there’s something solidly definitive.”
Edward sighed deeply as he walked over to John. “I know.”
“You appear to be in deep thought. What’s up?” John asked.
“It’s getting late. I’ve got flowers still to pick up.”
“For …?
“Yes.” Edward interjected. “For Karen’s ...There is one other thing, though. The effluent taps were on full. Whatever they were dumping, I’d imagine there should still be residue.”
“I’ll tell Stedman to check it out personally. Our lab folks and security will take care of the rest. Anything else?”
“I’m going to check downstream from the dump site.”
“Our lab people can do that.”
“I know that—but I’ll get samples nevertheless. It might be a good cross-check with our lab’s results.”
“Who’s going to check your results?” John asked.
“An independent lab.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Edward tilted his head and shrugged. “Okay. I’m sure you know what you’re doing. Anyway, I’ve got enough here to keep me busy. I’ll phone you if I get anything.”
Fifteen minutes later, Edward was scraping samples from Building 3C’s effluent taps into small envelopes. Neither security nor the lab had arrived at the site yet. While returning to the main building, he checked the security cameras.
"Damn! They’re still not activated."