Читать книгу The Dells - Michael Blair - Страница 8

“You keep looking at your watch, Hal,” Jerold Renfrew said. “Is there someplace you have to be?”

“Uh, no,” Hal Schumacher replied.

“You sure? Because if there is, we can do this later.”

“No,” Hal said. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Okay. Hal, you’re fired!”

Don’t I wish, Hal thought sourly, smiling at Renfrew’s favourite joke nevertheless. “The severance will come in handy,” he said, playing along, as was expected, even required. “I’ve had my eye on a nice little summer place in the Muskokas for a while now.”

Renfrew slapped the top of his desk in appreciation. “Good one, Hal. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even be able to afford it after this year’s bonus. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that your quarterly numbers are great, Hal. Simply great. Up over fifteen percent from last year. I’m really proud of you, Hal. You’ve built a great team of people. Simply great. Their performance is outstanding.”

Jerry Renfrew was president, CEO, and sole shareholder of Renfrew & Doherty Assurance, Inc. Although younger than Hal by nearly a decade, Renfrew affected a kindly, avuncular manner, which Hal found as annoying as it was fraudulent.

“Thanks, Jerry. I’ll pass that along.”

“The next quarter is looking good too,” Renfrew said, as though he hadn’t heard. “Could be our best ever, in no small part due to the efforts of you and your people. It’s starting to look like a safe bet that you’re going to be taking home the Oscar again this year, Hal.”

Christ, but the man loves the sound of his own voice, Hal thought irritably, as Renfrew prattled on. He was careful to keep his impatience from showing, though. Under other circumstances, he would have been flattered by the effusive praise, even though he knew these sessions were just Renfrew’s way of reminding everyone who was really in control. Truth be told, Hal was counting on the “Oscar,” as Renfrew called the big annual bonus that went to the head of the most productive department. Too bad he wouldn’t get to enjoy any of it; it was already spent, and not on a cottage on Lake Muskoka.

Hal had always considered himself pretty sophisticated when it came to the market. He knew that when a stock looked too good to be true, it likely was, and he’d have scoffed at the suggestion that he could be taken in by a smooth sales pitch. Until recently, that is. Jesus, how could he have been so stupid? It only went to show that no matter how smart you thought you were, there was always some slick operator out there who was just that little bit smarter.

And, on top of that, he had Dougie Hallam on his back. Hal sighed. He’d screwed up, there was no denying that, but damn, a little good luck wasn’t too much to ask, was it? It would make a nice change …

“Hal?”

“Uh, yes, Jerry.”

Renfrew frowned. “Is something bothering you, Hal?”

“What? No, Jerry, everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“C’mon, man,” Renfrew said. “You sit there, inscrutable as a damn Sphinx, when I’m practically coming right out and telling you that if you keep this up you’re a shoo-in for CFO when Phil Desmond retires next year.”

Hal’s heart jumped, as if an electric current had passed through his chest. “I thought Ray Levesque was your choice for Phil’s job,” he said, barely able to contain himself. So the rumours of Ray Levesque’s fall from grace were true after all.

“Frankly,” Renfrew said, “I’ve been disappointed in Ray’s performance lately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hal said, careful to keep the smugness from showing in his voice or on his face. Ray Levesque had been Jerry’s fair-haired boy. Hal wondered what Ray had done — or not done — to fall out of Renfrew’s favour. Whatever, maybe Hal’s luck was taking a turn for the better.

“But we were talking about you, Hal,” Renfrew said. “You’ve been a bit distracted lately. Is everything all right at home? How’s Maureen? I was saying to Alice just the other day, we’ve got to have Hal and Maureen over for dinner soon. Alice is dying to show off the new house.”

“Everything’s fine, Jerry,” Hal said. “Maureen’s fine. And we’d love to see the new house.”

“So what’s the problem, Hal?”

“There’s no problem, Jerry.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Hal,” Renfrew said. “I can see plain as the nose on your face that something’s going on with you. You can level with me, you know. If there’s something bothering you, all you have to do is tell me. We’ll make it go away. Trust me.”

Yeah, right. “Jerry, honestly, it’s nothing. I’m just tired, I guess. It’s been a tough couple of months, and I worked a little later than usual last night.”

“So I understand. A little bird told me you were here till after midnight. That’s not good. I’m a big believer in a proper balance of life and work, Hal, you know that.”

Yes I do, Jerry, and I’m sure you believe it, too, until the numbers start to fall, then it’s a different tune you play for us to dance to.

“You sure everything’s all right between you and Maureen? Working late is often the first sign of problems at home.”

“We’re fine,” Hal said blandly. How easily the lie came. But was Jerry even listening?

“Because I don’t need to remind you, Hal, Renfrew & Doherty is a very family values–conscious firm. We pride ourselves on that, as you well know. Nothing is more important than a solid, stable, and healthy family life. Frankly, I worry about you, Hal. You’re not a churchgoer, I accept that, because you’re a good man nevertheless, but we all need a reliable moral compass to steer by. Appearances are important in this business, Hal, I don’t have to tell you that. We must be vigilant, on constant guard against any failure of personal integrity or deterioration of morality and family values.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Hal said.

“Renfrew & Doherty may not be the biggest insurer in this city,” Renfrew said, “but we’ve got a reputation for integrity that’s second to none in the industry.”

“I know, Jerry.”

“There’s a lot at stake here, Hal. I wouldn’t want to see you throw away your future with the company because you can’t keep your family together.”

You bloody hypocrite, Hal thought, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he endured yet another lecture on morality from the man who’d driven poor old George Doherty to an early grave with totally trumped up allegations of mismanagement and malfeasance. Family values, my hairy ass. All you care about is the damned bottom line. Profit, that’s your moral compass, you sanctimonious bastard, not God or the church. Those are for appearances’ sake, nothing else.

Hal almost laughed out loud at his own hypocrisy. Appearances were important to him, too, he knew, maybe more than he’d ever realized, otherwise he wouldn’t be in the mess he was in. Just thinking about it made his legs twitch and his guts churn. Maybe Jerry was right, he thought, that everyone needs a reliable moral compass. Unfortunately, Hal’s seemed to be broken of late.

It was Renfrew’s turn to look at his watch, a wafer-thin gold Patek Philippe timepiece that probably cost more than the average Canadian’s annual after-tax income. “I hope you find these sessions helpful, Hal. I know I do. Remember, if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate. My door is always open.” He stood, elegantly trim in his perfectly tailored two-thousand-dollar suit.

Hal stood too, grunting with the effort and sucking in his gut in a useless attempt to look a little less like a rumpled blimp. “I appreciate that, Jerry.”

“You really should join a gym, Hal,” Renfrew said.

“I know, Jerry,” Hal said. “I wish I had time.”

Renfrew came out from behind his desk. He placed a hand on Hal’s shoulder as he guided him toward the door. “Physical health is equally as important as spiritual health, Hal.”

“There are only so many hours in a day, Jerry,” Hal said.

“Hmm,” Renfrew said. He opened the door, paused, then suddenly released it, letting it swing shut. His brow furrowed dramatically.

“Something wrong, Jerry?” Hal asked warily. Renfrew liked to spring things on people at the last minute, operating on the principle that their immediate reactions revealed more than any interview. Hal had a feeling he knew what was coming and began thinking of ways he might squeeze even more hours out of a day.

“I wasn’t going to bring this up today,” Renfrew said. He hesitated, furrows deepening, feigning indecision.

“What is it, Jerry?” he said, unable to prevent impatience from sharpening his voice.

Renfrew affected not to notice. “I’m sensitive to the fact that Gord Peters is your friend,” he said. “So I’ll understand if you decide to recuse yourself and bring in an outside firm. But I’m afraid I’ve got to ask you to initiate an internal audit of his department. I don’t like what I’ve been seeing in his numbers lately. Something doesn’t add up.”

Shit, Hal thought. Not what he’d expected, but no great surprise, either. Say what you will about Jerry Renfrew, he wasn’t stupid. It had been only a matter of time before he caught on to Gord’s shenanigans. But the timing could not have been worse.

Renfrew pulled the door open again. “Sorry to drop this in your lap on such short notice,” he said, ushering Hal into the outer office. “Think about it, will you? Get back to me next week about how you want to handle it. Have a nice holiday weekend,” he said and shut the door.