Chapter 9: Clause Nine

On Wednesday morning, Rhodri called the Calder Freight board to the twenty-eighth floor.

Nine directors sat at the long table in black leather chairs.

Leontine had put me in a chair against the wall, behind Rhodri's right shoulder.

I had a legal pad on my knee and orders to say nothing.

I had not slept.

Chisolm came in last, limping, between his two lawyers.

He took his seat at the far end and folded his hands on the table.

The white-haired president of Calder Freight, the man who had seen my bruise at the Drake, cleared his throat.

"Mr. Granger has called this meeting," he said. "Mr. Granger."

Rhodri didn't stand.

That was a thing he did.

When he was angriest, he got quieter, and sat more still, and let the room come to him.

"Four items," he said.

"One employee of this company put his hands on a woman, and the photographs are with the Chicago police."

Chisolm's lawyer opened his mouth, and Rhodri did not look at him.

The room shifted.

"A private contract was leaked to the press."

"It came from an account with this man's credentials."

"That's a lie," said Chisolm pleasantly.

"Fourth."

Rhodri's eyes lifted.

"He ran a Calder expense line through a card room on Wells Street. I would like the board to examine four years of his reports."

Nobody breathed.

I watched Chisolm's face.

He did not change color, and he did not blink.

I had a sudden sick thought.

I was watching a man who had been caught before and had learned exactly how to stand.

"Mr. Chisolm is suspended from this moment, pending a full review," Rhodri said.

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