The Associate

"What about them? I’m sure you’ve done your research."

"They offered you a job?"

"Correct."

"Beginning when?"

"September 2 of this year. I take the bar in July, and would start working in September."

"As an associate?"

"No, as a full-fledged partner. Or how about a secretary, or a copy clerk? Come on, Bennie, you know the routine."

"Don’t get angry, Kyle. We have a long way to go."

"I see. And we should cooperate now, and be pals, because we’re striving for a common purpose. Just you and me, right, Bennie? A couple of old friends. Where the hell is this going?"

"It’s going to Scully & Pershing."

"What if I don’t want to work there?"

"You have little choice."

Kyle leaned on his elbows and rubbed his eyes. The folding table was narrow, their faces were two feet apart.

"Have you said no to Scully & Pershing?" Wright asked.

"I’m assuming you already know the answer to that question. I’m assuming you’ve been listening to my phone conversations for some time."

"Not all of them."

"You’re a thug."

"Thugs break legs, Kyle. We’re much too smart for that."

"No, I have not said no to Scully & Pershing. I’ve informed them that I’m giving serious thought to public-interest law for a couple of years, and we’ve even discussed a deferment. They’ve given me extra time, but I need to make a decision."

"So they still want you?"

"Yes."

"At a starting salary of $200,000?"

"Something like that. You know the numbers."

"One of the largest and most prestigious law firms in the world."

"The largest, at least that’s what they tell everybody."

"Big firm, important clients, wealthy partners with contacts everywhere. Come on, Kyle, it’s an offer most law students would kill for. Why not take it?"

Kyle jumped to his feet and paced to the door and back. He glared down at Wright and said, "Let me make sure I follow you. You want me to take the job at Scully & Pershing, for reasons that I’m sure will be against my best interests, and if I say no, then you’ll blackmail me with the video and the rape allegations. Right? Is this where we’re headed, Bennie?"

"More or less. ‘Blackmail’ is such an ugly word."

"Wouldn’t want to offend anyone, Bennie. I’m sure you’re very sensitive. But it’s blackmail, or extortion, or whatever you’d like to call it. It’s a crime, Bennie. And you’re a thug."

"Shut up and stop calling me a thug!"

"I could go to the cops tomorrow and bust your ass. Impersonating an officer, attempted blackmail."

"It won’t happen."

"I can make it happen."

Wright slowly stood and for one horrible second made a motion as if he were about to throw a nasty punch. Then he casually pointed a finger at Kyle and in a firm and steady voice said, "You’re a kid with a snoot full of law. You want to run to the cops, go ahead. Work up your little textbook theories about who’s right and who’s wrong, and you know what will happen, Kyle? I’ll tell you what will happen. You’ll never see me again. The boys across the hall, the FBI agents, are already gone. No trace whatsoever. Vanished, forever. Before long, I’ll have a visit with the attorney for Elaine Keenan, show her the video, look once again at the net worth of Baxter Tate, provide her with the current addresses and phone numbers and e-mails for you, Alan Strock, and Joey Bernardo, prod her to have a chat with the prosecutor in Pittsburgh, and before you know it things are out of your control. Maybe charges will be filed, maybe not. But, trust me, I will destroy you."

"Where’s Elaine? You got her in a bunker somewhere?"

"It doesn’t matter. We have reason to believe she feels strongly that she was raped in your apartment."

"Please."

"She’s a ticking bomb, Kyle, and the video would set her off. You have seven more years to worry about it." With that, Wright returned to his chair and made some notes. Kyle sat on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror.

"It could get really ugly," Wright continued. "Think about it, Kyle. Yale Law’s brightest student arrested on rape charges. The women’s groups screaming for all eight testicles. The video leaked onto the Internet. A brutal trial. Chance of conviction, prison. A career ruined."

"Shut up!"

"No. So if you think I’m worried about your two-bit threats, please rest assured that I am not. Let’s talk business. Let’s take the video and lock it away so that no one will ever see it. How does that sound, Kyle?"

It sounded pretty damned good at the moment. Kyle scratched his stubble as he said, "What do you want?"

"I want you to take the job at Scully & Pershing."

"Why?"

"Now we’re getting somewhere, Kyle. Now we can talk business. I thought you’d never ask why."

"Why? Why? Why?"

"Because I need information."

"Great. That really explains things. Thank you so much."

"Bear with me for a few minutes, Kyle. You need a little background here. There are two gigantic corporations who compete with each other. Both are ruthless competitors, both are worth billions, and they really despise each other. There have been lawsuits, nasty ones, big public spectacles with no clear winner or loser. So, over the years, they have tried to avoid the courtroom. Until now. Now they’re about to square off in the mother of all lawsuits. It will be filed in a few weeks in federal court in New York City. At stake is something in the neighborhood of $800 billion, and the loser might not survive. Nasty, vicious litigation. A bonanza for the attorneys. Each uses a huge Wall Street law firm, and guess what? The two law firms hate each other."

"I can’t wait to get in the middle of that."

"That’s where you’re headed. One firm is Scully & Pershing. The other is Agee, Poe & Epps."

"Otherwise known as APE."

"Yes."

"I interviewed there."

"Did they offer a job?"

"I thought you knew everything."

"Only what I need to know."

"I didn’t like the firm."

"Attaboy. Now you can really dislike them."

Kyle walked into the bathroom, ran cold water in the sink, splashed it on his face and down his neck, and for a long time stared at himself in the mirror. Don’t get tired, he told himself. Ignore the fatigue and the fear. Try to anticipate what’s coming. Try to throw him a curve, mess with his timing, knock him off course.

He sat down across the table from Wright. "Where’d you find the video?" Kyle asked.

"Kyle, Kyle, such a waste of time."

"If the video is used in court, then the owner of the cell phone camera will have to testify. You can’t protect his identity at that point. Does he know this? Did you explain it to him? He’s one of my fraternity brothers, and I’ll bet he’ll refuse to testify at trial."

"A trial? You’re willing to go to trial? A trial holds the possibility of a conviction, which means prison, and prison for cute little white boys convicted of rape is not pretty."

"I’ll bet she won’t press charges."

"You have nothing to bet with. She needs money. If she can squeeze it out of Mr. Tate, and a few bucks from you and the other two, she’ll do it. Trust me."

"I wouldn’t trust you with my dirty laundry."

"Enough of the insults. We’ll go to her lawyer and show her exactly how to do it. Or, maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll just release an edited version of the video on the Internet tonight. Cut out the rape and let everyone see the party scene. We’ll e-mail it to all your friends, family, prospective employers, the whole world, Kyle. See how it plays. Then maybe we’ll edit it some more, maybe include some of the rape, post it again. When Elaine sees it, your face is in the newspaper."