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Authors: Richard North Patterson
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college I was the class clown.” Gubner smiled faintly in rueful recollection. “Between then and now I must have kissed enough ass to fill a stadium. The one time I tried to get out from under myself is when I started my own business. I was going to be a boss. But I wasn’t cut out for being a boss. I kept looking for someone to please, for someone to tell me what to do. Or what to be.” He paused, then pronounced judgment on himself in a final tone. “And that’s the bottom line on me, Mr. Paget. I’m someone else’s boy.”
And now he was my boy. The thought must have shown in my face. “What do they call you, Mr. Paget?”
“Chris.”
“Tell me, Chris, have you ever wanted to please someone else, even when you thought it was wrong?”
“More often than I’d like.”
“What keeps you from doing it?”
I thought. “I honestly don’t know, Mr. Lehman. I guess I’m afraid to.”
Lehman nodded; he knew what I meant. For a moment, we were almost friends. But he was a witness, and I needed to use him. I decided to put a cap on self-analysis. “Let’s just say that I understand what you’ve told me.”
But Lehman was looking beyond me at some middle distance. The bar reverberated with the echo of a long-ago psychic explosion, of which the current Lehman was the remains, a crazy quilt of roles with no stuffing. The act of contrition was the only thing which was making Lehman real to himself. But I was going to have to push it to the end.
“Let’s talk about what you’ve got for me,” I said.
Lehman snapped to as if wrenched out of hypnosis. “I don’t know about any manipulation. But I’ve got proof of something different. A lot worse.” Whatever it was lent an awed tone to his words. “I’ve got a memo at home that will deliver the whole thing.” He looked around. “But we can’t talk about it here.”
I felt impatient. “Look, you’ve got to tell me sometime.”
Lehman’s voice was thick with knowledge. “Mr. Paget, you don’t want to talk about this here either. I know I’m doing a mental striptease. But I didn’t want to sit in a government office, like a criminal. You’ve been very decent. Come to my place after dinner tonight, and I’ll show you what I’ve got. You can handle it the way you think best.” His voice slowed to a low, emphatic rhythm. “And you are going to want to think about it.”
It was a strange scene and sad. The man had wanted to see me—be friends—before he put his future in my hands. But I couldn’t give him that. “You know, Mr. Lehman, I can question you, under oath, any time. And have you sent up for perjury if you lie.”
Gubner cut in sharply. “He knows that.” I looked from Gubner to Lehman. He nodded.
“All right, Mr. Lehman, 7:30 tonight. And I hope it’s good.”
Lehman stood up, smiling in a lifeless way which made my words sound foolish. “It’s better than you imagine. Or from my perspective, worse.” He paused. “You should remember, Mr. Paget, that Lasko is a very ruthless man.”
He should know, I thought. But Lehman seemed like a weak reed for Lasko to be trusting. “One thing bothers me. Just why does Lasko trust you with whatever this is?”
The bleak smile held. “Because I’m his controller,” he said with irony. “Besides, he’s got me by the balls.”
I could see that. “Then why are you here?”
He exhaled, staring at his feet. Then he looked directly at me. “Because this is my last chance to like myself.”
I nodded. He turned to Gubner. The two friends looked at each other for a moment. Gubner wore the rueful half-smile. Lehman saw it and reached out with one hand to touch Gubner’s arm. Then he turned and walked from the bar. Gubner stared after him, as if regret had turned him to stone.
I let him stare for a moment, then spoke. “Marty, I’ll buy you a martini. They’re good here, and you could use one.”
Gubner turned, then sat down heavily. I ordered two martinis, straight up. They
And now he was my boy. The thought must have shown in my face. “What do they call you, Mr. Paget?”
“Chris.”
“Tell me, Chris, have you ever wanted to please someone else, even when you thought it was wrong?”
“More often than I’d like.”
“What keeps you from doing it?”
I thought. “I honestly don’t know, Mr. Lehman. I guess I’m afraid to.”
Lehman nodded; he knew what I meant. For a moment, we were almost friends. But he was a witness, and I needed to use him. I decided to put a cap on self-analysis. “Let’s just say that I understand what you’ve told me.”
But Lehman was looking beyond me at some middle distance. The bar reverberated with the echo of a long-ago psychic explosion, of which the current Lehman was the remains, a crazy quilt of roles with no stuffing. The act of contrition was the only thing which was making Lehman real to himself. But I was going to have to push it to the end.
“Let’s talk about what you’ve got for me,” I said.
Lehman snapped to as if wrenched out of hypnosis. “I don’t know about any manipulation. But I’ve got proof of something different. A lot worse.” Whatever it was lent an awed tone to his words. “I’ve got a memo at home that will deliver the whole thing.” He looked around. “But we can’t talk about it here.”
I felt impatient. “Look, you’ve got to tell me sometime.”
Lehman’s voice was thick with knowledge. “Mr. Paget, you don’t want to talk about this here either. I know I’m doing a mental striptease. But I didn’t want to sit in a government office, like a criminal. You’ve been very decent. Come to my place after dinner tonight, and I’ll show you what I’ve got. You can handle it the way you think best.” His voice slowed to a low, emphatic rhythm. “And you are going to want to think about it.”
It was a strange scene and sad. The man had wanted to see me—be friends—before he put his future in my hands. But I couldn’t give him that. “You know, Mr. Lehman, I can question you, under oath, any time. And have you sent up for perjury if you lie.”
Gubner cut in sharply. “He knows that.” I looked from Gubner to Lehman. He nodded.
“All right, Mr. Lehman, 7:30 tonight. And I hope it’s good.”
Lehman stood up, smiling in a lifeless way which made my words sound foolish. “It’s better than you imagine. Or from my perspective, worse.” He paused. “You should remember, Mr. Paget, that Lasko is a very ruthless man.”
He should know, I thought. But Lehman seemed like a weak reed for Lasko to be trusting. “One thing bothers me. Just why does Lasko trust you with whatever this is?”
The bleak smile held. “Because I’m his controller,” he said with irony. “Besides, he’s got me by the balls.”
I could see that. “Then why are you here?”
He exhaled, staring at his feet. Then he looked directly at me. “Because this is my last chance to like myself.”
I nodded. He turned to Gubner. The two friends looked at each other for a moment. Gubner wore the rueful half-smile. Lehman saw it and reached out with one hand to touch Gubner’s arm. Then he turned and walked from the bar. Gubner stared after him, as if regret had turned him to stone.
I let him stare for a moment, then spoke. “Marty, I’ll buy you a martini. They’re good here, and you could use one.”
Gubner turned, then sat down heavily. I ordered two martinis, straight up. They
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