Termination Man: a novel (48 page)

“Lucy Browning is dead,” I said simply. I gave Claire an account of the day’s events, beginning with my receipt of the suicide email.

“This is why I didn’t want to pull the trigger on her,” I said. “This is why I didn’t want to let them fire her.”

“And I suppose you think it’s my fault that this woman is dead? Is that why you came here tonight, Craig? To blame me for her death?”

“Yes,” I said. And then I quickly added: “But no less than I blame myself. No less than I blame Kurt Myers, or Beth Fisk, or Bernie Chapman. The system failed in this case, Claire. We were supposed to help a client organization eject a problem employee from its team. Instead we destroyed a woman who worked hard; a woman who would never have been a threat to anyone.”

Claire looked at me incredulously. “Craig, do you really believe that? Come on, get a grip on yourself: I understand that you’ve had a traumatic day. I feel bad for you, but—”

“This isn't about me!” I shouted. “I’m not the one who took a bullet in the head this afternoon.”

“
A bullet that was self-inflicted
,” Claire said. “Jesus, Craig: Do you think that Lucy Browning was the first person to lose her job? Or the first person to entertain suicidal thoughts? We’ve all felt like killing ourselves at one time or another. But most of us
don't do it.
What happened doesn’t make Lucy Browning a saint. And it doesn’t make you and me devils, either.”

“I’m sorry, Claire. Sorry for bothering you with this.”

“Oh, now don’t go self-righteous on me,” she said. “You know how I hate that. We happened to do a job on a weak person—a weak person who thought that her life had no meaning without a lousy job that maybe paid fifty- or sixty-thousand dollars a year. You want to crucify yourself for this? Go ahead. But don’t try to take me along on your guilt trip.”

“Like I said, Claire: Forgive me for assuming that you might have normal human feelings.”

She turned her face away from me. I had obviously wounded her. I never knew which was the real Claire: The callous MBA grad with the steely exterior who had pulled herself out of a working-class hellhole in rural Michigan—or the vulnerable young woman who, bereft of anything approaching normal love at home, had allowed herself to be hoodwinked by her abusive boyfriend. The woman who had needed love so badly that—for a while, at least—she was willing to suffer beatings for it.

I wasn’t sure. Nor could I allow myself to forget that that same young woman had pulled a gun on the boyfriend. Perhaps I would never understand Claire Turner.  

“Feelings get you hurt,” she finally replied. “Sometimes, feelings can even get you killed.” She turned back to me, something about her expression oddly taunting. “Lucy Browning proved that. Didn’t she?”

Claire must have seen the shock written on my face.

“When did you become such a moralist, Craig? You didn’t worry about the rest of them—at least not as far as I could tell. You weren’t worried about Kevin Lang, that guy we terminated up in Cleveland. Alan Ferguson was supposedly your friend, and you didn't display much guilt about helping our clients end
his
employment.

“But then one of our targets kills herself, and you decide that we both have to question everything we do, and what kind of people we are. Well, I’m not buying it. Do you know why Lucy Browning died? Because she was weak. Do you know why we both make six figures a year? Because we’re strong. We understand the law of the jungle, the survival of the fittest. Call it a cliché if you like, but it’s true. I understood that the night Jamie decided to use me as a punching bag.”

“I need to get away from you,” I said.

That was what I told her. But my thoughts were proceeding along a different line.
Was Claire right?
Could Lucy’s death be ascribed to simple individual weakness? Or had I been fooling myself all these years, telling myself that I was serving the neutral, objective cause of economic efficiency?

“You think you’re any better than me?” Claire called after me, as I brushed past her toward the door. “Well think again! Where were your feelings and precious sense of decency when you signed that contract with TP Automotive? This is about people losing their jobs, Craig. It always has been. You can’t hide from that fact. And now you want me to cry over it?
Well, I can’t!
”

When I was finally seated behind the wheel of my car, I noticed that my hands were trembling. It was a mixture of anger, grief, and other emotions that I could not even identify.

After some time—I don’t know exactly how long—I was able to start the car and drive back to my hotel.

The next morning, as promised, I met with the TP Automotive team and gave them a detailed debriefing.

In a rare show of authentic human emotion, Beth Fisk reached across the table and laid her hand on mine. “That’s horrible, Craig! Absolutely tragic!” Beth discreetly removed her hand and looked down at the meeting table. “I—I can’t believe it! I’ve been working in HR for more than fifteen years, and I’ve never known a discharged employee to commit suicide. I mean, you hear about things like that sometimes—but you never imagine it could happen to one of your own.”

Beth Fisk had conducted the early-morning termination meeting with Lucy Browning less than forty-eight hours ago. Now that she was dead, Lucy was suddenly “one of her own”—one of UP&S’s own. I knew that this sentiment would be short-lived.

Bernie Chapman shook his head and muttered something under his breath. I didn’t expect the lawyer to wax sentimental, even at a time like this.

The four of us—Beth, Bernie, Kurt, and myself—were gathered in the boardroom. It was the same room where I had interrupted Kurt and Beth less than an hour after Lucy had been fired.

I had just finished telling the three of them the details of the previous afternoon: How I had received the suicide note around ten a.m. and driven off to Lucy’s apartment. I told them how I had found her, and how I had waited with her body until the Columbus police and paramedics arrived. 

Lucy had obviously been killed instantly, so her body would have been transported directly to the morgue. There would have been little point in taking her to the hospital.
Would it work like that?
I didn’t know. This was the sort of question that had never been relevant to me before.

And who would be at Lucy’s funeral?
I supposed that the estranged sister—the one who lived in California—would at least fly in to bid her good-hearted but maladjusted sister farewell.

“What about flowers from the company?” Beth asked. “Would that be an appropriate gesture?”

Bernie shook his head at Beth’s suggestion. “That would be a bad idea. This is a suicide we’re talking about, after all. And at least one email sent prior to Lucy’s death indicates that her suicide is connected to her separation from UP&S. We don’t know what actions Lucy’s surviving relatives may take. We might be looking at a lawsuit—although I frankly don't see much of a basis for one. And even short of that, we might be looking at a smear job in the press. If we send flowers, that could be loosely interpreted as an admission of guilt. That is something we must avoid. So as much as we might like to send flowers, doing so would not be in the best interests of the company.”

Bernie went on: “This means that we might need to anticipate some nosy members of the local press showing up around here as well. They might approach a random employee in the parking lot and inquire about Lucy’s situation here. It appears that Lucy’s only real friend at UP&S was Alan Ferguson, but we don't know for certain if she confided in anyone else.”

She confided in me
, I thought.
Lucy confided in me
. 

“I also think that it would be a good idea to extend your contract, Craig,” Bernie said. “I know that your originally defined duties are complete; but this, quite frankly, changes things.”

Kurt nodded. “I agree.” He turned to me. “I would like you and Claire to remain on site for at least a few more weeks. If you leave now, someone may draw a conclusion about your connection to Lucy's termination. We need you to stay until things have settled down. Needless to say, we will retain you at the rates stated in your original contract, on a prorated basis.”

I had no choice but to comply. It would not have been reasonable for me to depart now, however much I wanted to be free of this place. That would be equivalent to leaving my client in the lurch. And that would jeopardize my reputation in the industry. I had personal feelings at stake here––strong personal feelings––but I still had business obligations. What Kurt and Bernie were asking for was by no means an unreasonable request.

“I'll stay,” I said. “I've got the time.”

“Very well,” Bernie said. “We'll draw up an addendum to the contract and get it to you within forty-eight hours.”

“How is Claire doing?” Beth asked tentatively. “She must be especially upset about this, given that—you know.”

“Claire is taking this as well as can be expected,” I said.

“Well, tell her that she’s welcome to talk to me if I can help in any way,” Beth said.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

“Oh,” Beth said. “I had the email from Lucy forwarded to the Columbus police, just like you said. Bernie, I understand that you had a discussion with the detective who responded to the 911 call.”

“That’s right,” Bernie said. “I filled the detective in on the background—told him that Ms. Browning was recently discharged, and apparently unstable. You technically should have called 911 as soon as you received the suicide note by email; but they aren’t going to hold that against you. You’re not the first person to panic at the receipt of a suicide note or telephone call. No one is ever really prepared for something like that. I’m not a criminal lawyer, mind you—but I don't foresee you having any issues, from a legal perspective. Let me know if anyone from the Columbus police department contacts you again. We have resources at our disposal that can help you.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Well, well,” Bernie drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “This has been some rather unpleasant business, hasn’t it? I believe we’re done here. Craig, thank you for bringing us up to speed.”

That signaled the end of the meeting. Both Bernie and Beth gathered their papers and stood. I rose from my seat as well, but Kurt Myers motioned for me to stay. “Craig?” he said in a conciliatory tone. “Would you mind hanging around for a few minutes longer? I’d like a word with you.”

The last thing I wanted to do at this moment was prolong my interaction with any of them—least of all Kurt Myers. But I was still a paid consultant. I wasn’t in a position to refuse.

Kurt waited until Bernie and Beth had left the room and the door had clicked shut behind them. He sighed and fixed me with that gaze of his. I knew where this was going. He was about to play the paternal card with me again.
Did Kurt really look upon me as a son?
This thought caused me a momentary shudder, as it made me feel vaguely connected to Shawn Myers, Kurt’s biological son.

“You have to understand that none of us intended for this to happen,” Kurt said. “And if we had known—well, we would have pulled the plug on the whole operation.”

I recalled my own last-minute gesture to salvage Lucy’s job, after Claire had already entrapped her. “I guess the point is that
I
should have known,” I said. “I should have been the one to pull the plug.”

The skin on Kurt Myers’s forehead became knotted and wrinkled, as if I had just made a totally wild speculation.

“Don’t do that to yourself, Craig. What was it she told you, anyway? That she took some pills when she was a teenager, in a half-hearted suicide attempt that might have been nothing more than a post-adolescent bid for attention? Should every person with an incident like that in their background be immune from firing? Is that what you believe?”

I gave that question some thought. Kurt had a point.

“I guess not,” I said.

“No. There was no way you could have anticipated this. People get fired everyday, Craig. The vast majority of them do not take it as a cue to place guns in their mouths and blow their brains out.”

When he noticed my shock, he said, “Sorry—I know that isn’t a very sensitive way of putting it, but it is the
truth
. How can you explain that woman’s actions? Lucy didn’t even like her job at UP&S. That’s the whole reason that we hired you in the first place, if you really get down to it. She was unhappy here. She could have framed this as an opportunity to go out into the world and look for something that would better suit her. Instead she, well—”

The funny thing was that a part of me actually agreed with every word that Kurt was saying. Kurt Myers was a son-of-a-bitch; his determination to defend his vindictive and possibly psychotic son was an indicator of his own lack of character. But he was right about Lucy, in a manner of speaking: She had been miserable at UP&S. She would have done herself and everyone else a favor if she had taken the initiative to find other work months before, when it first became clear that she wasn’t going to mesh well with the TP Automotive management team.