Read Online The Associate by John Grisham - Free Book Online

in stealing documents?”
    “Let’s call it corporate espionage. We do it all the time and we’re very good at it.”
    “Then go blackmail someone else.”
    “No. It’s all you, Kyle. Think about it. You take the job you’ve always wanted, at an obscene salary, living the fast life in the big city. They try to work you to death for a few years, but they reward you. By the time you’re thirty, you’re a senior associate making four hundred grand a year. Nice apartment in SoHo. A share of a weekend house in the Hamptons. A Porsche. A circle of friends who are all smart and rich and moving up as fast as you are. Then one day the lawsuit is settled. We disappear. The statute runs out in Pittsburgh. The video is finally forgotten, and at the age of thirty-two or thirty-three you’re asked to join Scully & Pershing as a full equity partner. A million or two per year. The pinnacle of success. A great career ahead of you. Life is great. And no one there will ever know about the transferring of information.”
    A headache that had been smoldering for the past hour finally matured and hit hard in the middle of his forehead. Kyle stretched out on the bed and massaged his temples. He closed his eyes, but in the blackness managed to keep talking. “Look, Bennie, I know you don’t care about morals or ethics and such things, but I do. How, exactly, am I supposed to live with myself if I betray the confidences of my firm and its clients? Trust is the most important thing a lawyer has. I learned that from my father when I was a teenager.”
    “All we care about is getting the information. We don’t spend too much time pondering morality.”
    “That’s about what I figured.”
    “I need a commitment, Kyle. I need your word.”
    “Do you have any Tylenol?”
    “No. Do we have an agreement, Kyle?”
    “Do you have anything for a headache?”
    “No.”
    “Do you have a gun?”
    “In my jacket.”
    “Let me have it.”
    A minute passed without a sound. Wright’s eyes never left Kyle, who was motionless except for his fingers pressing gently on his forehead. Then Kyle slowly sat up and asked in a whisper, “How much longer are you planning to stay here?”
    “Oh, I have lots of questions.”
    “I was afraid of that. I can’t keep going. My head is splitting.”
    “Whatever, Kyle. It’s up to you. But I need an answer. Do we have an agreement, a deal, an understanding?”
    “Do I really have a choice?”
    “I don’t see one.”
    “Neither do I.”
    “So?”
    “If I have no choice, then I have no choice.”
    “Excellent. A wise decision, Kyle.”
    “Oh, thank you so much.”
    Wright stood and stretched as if a long day at the office were finally over. He reshuffled some papers, fiddled with the video camera, closed the laptop. “Would you like to rest, Kyle?”
    “Yes.”
    “We have several rooms. You’re welcome to take a nap if you’d like, or we can continue tomorrow.”
    “It’s already tomorrow.”
    Wright was at the door. He opened it and Kyle followed him out of the room, across the hall, and into room 222. What had once been an FBI command center had now been converted back to a regular $89-a-night motel room. Ginyard and Plant and the other fake agents were long gone, and they had taken everything—files, computers, enlarged photos, tripods, briefcases, boxes, folding tables. The bed was back in the center of the room, perfectly made up.
    “Shall I wake you in a few hours?” Wright asked pleasantly.
    “No. Just leave me alone.”
    “I’ll be across the hall.”
    When Kyle was alone, he pulled back the bedspread, turned off the lights, and soon fell asleep.

6
_________
    C ontrary to his best intentions, Kyle awoke several hours later. He desperately wanted to sleep forever, to simply drift away and be forgotten. He awoke in a warm, dark room on a hard bed, and for a second wasn’t sure where he was or how he had managed to get there. His head was still hurting and his mouth was dry. Soon,