by Ri, Xesin
Ray said, “I think you are absolutely right. Things are getting a bit rough out there. I don’t know why you wasted so much time saying what is obvious. Write me up a proposal and I’ll look it over. I can’t believe you made such a thing so contentious, do you have any idea how many times those corporate types have sat here trying to ruin me with their bullshit contracts? Have you dealt with these ADD guys; ADD is the worst of them. They’ve got one or two patents on high hydrocarbon corn and they think they own everything; well they don’t.”
“We are glad you see it that way,” said Mr. Flint.
“Wonder, wonderful,” said Mrs. Flint with a wide grin plastered on her face as if it was to be set in stone for all the future to see.
“Yes then, send over the proposal and I’ll take a look.”
Ray got up and opened his office door to let the Flints know that the meeting was over.
There was the shaking of hands and great promises of a vast and powerful farming block. Mrs. Flint grinned and grinned like she were wearing a fool’s mask; all the while, her husband shook hands and, to Ray’s close observation, looked all the more somber, if it were possible, than he had been during the preceding moments. And then, with final promises, that solid grin, and invitations and congratulations which were followed, at last, by goodbyes and goodlucks, the Flints left the building.
Ray watched to be sure they got into their waiting limo on the street below. He watched it pull away and watched it as far as he could watch the newly-waxed, gleaming white vehicle roll. Then, with a quick twist, he went to his secretary’s desk.
“Peg, get Jack on the phone. Tell him to meet me in the parking garage. Tell him to bring his Mercedes.”
“Yes, Mr. Synad.”
Jack’s black Mercedes pulled around the corner near an orange “third level” sign inside the parking garage and stopped perfectly for Mr. Synad. Ray had only just stepped out of the elevator when Jack’s car pulled up. Ray was once again happy to see his sister’s taste in men had served him well since Jack had not only made a great brother-in-law, a great business partner—but the guy was even quite punctual. He was, no doubt, a helpful ally and friend.
“Hello, Jack.”
“Hello, Ray.”
“I don’t trust my office. I would bet almost anything they’ll be watching to see what we do next too, so let’s take a drive out of here and go into the city. Go ahead and drive as fast as you want. Watch behind you.”
“Alright,” said Jack Orr. “You want to start talking or wait until we are out of the area?”
Ray Synad took a deep breath and began. “The Flints just tried to buy us out. That was what they wanted to discuss. They didn’t bring a lawyer. They didn’t bring a specific proposal. They talked about using the unions against us if we didn’t give in. They talked about the Mexican government looking into what happened out there at the farm Duncan was running—“
Mr. Synad stopped while they were sitting in front of the camera where the electronic gate opened out onto the street.
Jack looked at Ray with concern. Once they were on the street, he said, “Ray, are you really this nervous? You think they’ve got the garage cameras and lip-readers to figure you out?”
“I’ve been divorced twice, kid,” laughed Ray. “I’m on my way to ending a third right now. I’ve been through a thing or two in my life.”
Jack nodded.
Traffic was heavy as Jack jumped from lane-to-lane looking for the fastest way to the highway.
“The thing is Jack. I’ve seen some things in business and seen some people do some pretty nasty things. If you’ve never heard me say it before then let me say it to you now: A suit doesn’t mean a damn thing—a criminal is a criminal.”
“Ray, you don’t always play by the rules.”
“I’ve never killed anyone, Jack. Al Duncan, those two sheriff’s deputies and our workers—that was murder for money, Jack.”
“I thought Al committed suicide.”
“An arrogant jackass like that? Al fell; he’d had a gun on him at the time, a gun that he seems to have drawn before he fell, that wasn’t in the Tribune or on the Web. Now, those two showing up like that, less than a month after Al’s death, with promises and hopes in their eyes—odd, real creeping odd.”
Jack had found the highway and got into the left lane. His Mercedes zoomed past most of the traffic.
“This car’s been in your garage, right?”
“Last two weeks. Your sister doesn’t like driving it. It hasn’t been out of my home or my sight more than a few minutes.”
“Locked even inside the garage?”
“Locked even inside the garage.”
“Good, getting a little paranoid is good,” said Ray.
“Until we know something more about the explosion and why Duncan didn’t seem to know anything and why the sheriff plus two of his deputies were all there and why they were inside the silo with our workers—who were armed to the teeth apparently—until then, I’m a bit more aware than usual,” said Jack looking into his mirrors.
“I thought this would be a better business,” said Ray tapping the window to feel the cold glass against his nails. “Thought it was good, easy money. Buy the land, buy the seed, and watch the money grow. I didn’t think it would be like dealing with the tricks and games you deal with in big city contracts; state liars; and suits, suits and more suits bearing down on your business trying to take a piece of what they didn’t earn—the privilege of doing business in Illinois, Jack.”
“H. h. is brand new. It’s like those first oilmen finding black gold beneath the earth. The competition was going to be like this and you knew it. Money is money, Ray, and people flock to it wherever you are, you know this—you’re the one who told me this.”
“Did Al Duncan work for the Flints?”
“Um, I don’t know. I didn’t hire him. It isn’t clear.”
Ray got out his phone and wrote a message to Peg asking for Al Duncan’s work history with his company and all previous jobs.
Ray started speaking while he was writing the message to Peg. “Do you think it makes any sense that the Flints would want to join forces?”
“No. Is that what they asked you?”
“Yes, they wanted some type of agreement between our two companies to keep the bigger fish at bay.”
“Like ADD.”
“I mentioned ADD to see if that was specifically the source of their fears. They didn’t really say anything about it. I said that while I was telling them that I would look over whatever their proposal was. I made it sound like I was very interested in teaming up somehow.”
Ray shifted in his seat trying to get a little more comfortable.
For some time neither Jack nor Ray spoke as they rolled east on 88 towards Chicago.
Soon the skyline of the city was directly ahead of them.
“So, where are we going, Ray?”
“We are going to see a fella on the Merch. He knows all sorts of stuff about the h. h. business, but he also happens to be a compulsive gambler who hangs out with the sort of people who know lots and lots of information about the police, the state, and how laws really get made.”
“Why not call him up?”
“You don’t call this sort of information man. He’s not like a stock broker. He receives a lot of info. But he also gives out a lot of info on other people. I need to ask him certain things you only say face-to-face. And I need to tell him a few things too.”
“This guy trades information? What other reason are we going to see a guy who we shouldn’t have any contact with if someone might actually be watching us?”
“Lunch. Those Flint psychos got me all worked up, and I want a good steak with a great glass of wine at my favorite restaurant. Mr. Yewstone owes me a big, expensive lunch.”
“Mr. Yewstone sounds like he’s one of your detested suits.”
“Yes, he’s the sort of fellow who you don’t go into business with, you don’t gamble with, and you ne
ver ever trust.”
“And he owes you a lunch from?”
“We golf every few weeks. He thinks he’s good. He owes me about seven thousand dollars.”
“Why am I meeting this guy?”
“Because—if I get killed sometime in the near future, I would like you to have an option for finding out what really happened to me.”
Jack looked at Ray, as best he could, and saw that this was absolutely serious.
“You think someone’s really that nuts?”
“We’re not talking about nickels here, are we?”
Jack nodded. Ray saw Jack was conflicted about that level of danger.
Ray ate another bite of his garlic mashed potatoes mixed with a cut of asparagus.
Jack had been quiet since they had gotten to the restaurant. He eyed Mr. Yewstone as if the man were going to give away an important secret at any given moment.
“Jack,” said Ray, “Jules here is getting a little nervous, the way you stare. This is lunch. Eat, drink, and calm your nerves.”
Jules looked at Ray in surprise.
Jack, taken aback, said, “I just wasn’t sure how this lunch was going to go. I don’t know so much about golf.”
“Neither does Jules,” joked Ray with his mouth half-full of steak and asparagus.
“You don’t give me enough credit, Ray.”
“No Jules, I give you no credit. That shot on the twelfth hole! Ha!”
Mr. Yewstone took the comment with some agitation. “Ray, let’s play double-or-nothing next time.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, you think you’re so much better—put your money where your mouth is.”
“Jules, Jules, Jules. I’m not worried at all. I just think you don’t know when to quit.”
“This isn’t gambling. I’ve got your game figured out.”
“Fair enough,” said Ray extending his hand. They shook. “When will you be in Texas next?”
“Middle of February. Same course as last month?”
“Dallas has got some of my favorite land, you know that.”
“So, why the rush?” asked Jules. “You and your friend show up here so fast, looking for me to repay a debt; I got a little nervous this was a shakedown.”
“I’m not a cop, Jules.”
“I wouldn’t eat with you—and I sure wouldn’t talk to you if you were.”
Ray smiled and said, “Such prejudice….”
“You know me. I don’t go for those sorts of shenanigans.”
“Shut up,” said Ray. “I got a visit from the Flints today.”
“Oh,” said Jules.
Jack sipped his water and found his interest rise as the real business was begun.
“The Flints came to my place. They talked an awful lot for two tight-lipped liars. They talked about unions, buying me out, joining forces, and Al Duncan’s untimely demise. Business as usual with veiled threats is fine by me, but this was something entirely different for those two. Something is happening behind my back, Jules. I don’t like it. And I don’t like that that something must be a pretty big something when those two schedule an appointment to play hardball with me in my own office. I don’t play golf with you because we’re friends, Jules. I play golf with you because you’ve got things you tell me that I need to know. Did you forget to tell me something?”
Jack watched Mr. Yewstone take a quick sip of water.
“Look, I—“
“That’s not how you start that sentence, Jules. You start the sentence with ‘No.’ But if ‘no’ isn’t the right word, go ahead and try and tell me something that isn’t going to make me wonder if we are having some real troubles; and whether or not I should be thinking about collecting on some of your debts, or better yet, telling some people about the fact you can’t pay them your debt to them because you’ve lost Ray Synad’s confidence and money. In other words, think about what your life will be like if I don’t back you.”
“I thought this was a friendly meeting,” tried Jules.
“We’ll be friends again when you are neither ‘a lender nor borrower be.’ Until then, you talk to me about the things I want to know.”
The waitress came up. She smiled. “Gentlemen, I know you are still enjoying your dining experience, but I was wondering whether you would like one of our special desserts that take fifteen to twenty minutes to prepare?”
“No,” said Ray. “Just bring us some after dinner liquors.”
“Very good, sir,” said the waitress with a bright smile and a small modern curtsey.
Jules spoke first after she was off. “Look, I am going to get something from some people that could be very interesting for you. Better than Golf Magazine insider sort of information. I didn’t say anything because I don’t know how true it is yet. There might be some worthless info, and I didn’t want to make you think I wasn’t giving you the information you didn’t need.”
Ray looked deep into Jules’s eyes and said, “You don’t make that judgment. I will decide what interests me. If it has to do with me, my fields, my competitors or the states, laws or money surrounding me and my fields then I want to know about it. I’ll wade through the filth if I get to keep a few more dollars. So spill a little more, Water Jug.”
“Look, I know that—“
“No,” said Ray. “Don’t start like that. I want to know what I need to know, and what you most definitely owe me.”
Jules looked at Jack. Jack saw the appeal in Jules’s eyes and quickly narrowed his eyes in response.
Jules turned back to Ray. “I don’t know anything else. I only hear there is a rumor about something big. There are these people—kids, hackers, anarchists, protester types. Some of them are a little nutty. They dress funny; their parents are generally rich; and so they have time to snoop. There is this guy who got in touch with some people recently. A friend of mine says these people got access to information directly from an ADD insider. They say—“
“Whoa,” Jack interrupted. “This is a restaurant, sir. Maybe that sort of language is okay where you are from but my mother told me not to talk like that around polite company. Am I right, Ray?”
Ray was chewing on the last bit of steak on his plate and the last piece of asparagus at the table. Both Jack and Jules had finished long ago. Ray nodded to Jack.
“Jules, my associate is right; you heard about my man, Al Duncan?”
“Yeah, that was a real tragedy.”
“Yeah, it was. He was a great worker. Great foreman. Knew the men, and the men respected him. A man who gets respect is a man who gets a job done efficiently, with less injuries, and on-time because his workers accept him and his leadership. You cannot replace that with anything else in the world. That is the people side of any business equation. My associate and I, like all legitimate businessmen, wish we had more guys like Al Duncan. But, no matter how great someone is—if they cross you—if they take what isn’t theirs to take—if they talk to the wrong sort of people and forget who keeps the food on their plates? Who protects them from the dangers of this world? And, instead, that person cuts-and-runs? Leaves people high-and-dry? Out-on-a-limb? No man’s loyalty can withstand that test; no businessman can ignore the decision that has to be made. So be careful and remember where you are and who you are talking to. You got me, Jules?”
From Jack’s angle, Ray’s knife looked probably even more menacing than it did to Jules. Jack watched as Ray laid it down on his plate since he’d finally finished his steak. One of the restaurant staff came up and quickly took the plate and knife away.
The liquors were quickly brought.
Jack got a Scotch. Jules got a coconut rum. Ray got four ounces of Jack Daniels in a glass that he let sit there as the other two sipped their drinks.
Jules talked a little smarter. “On the news the other night, there was a story about a big corporation. But, there is more to that story, a lot more, I think. The people I mentioned earlier have access to the rest of the story. Journalists, if you like?”
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“What’s the story so far?” asked Ray. His drink sat untouched still.
“The story is complicated. One part here, one part there. You could watch it on several different networks and never get the whole picture because there is something out there, something going on, in the agricultural game, particularly with special corn, like h. h., that suggests that someone may be looking for a big shift—a paradigm shift—if you like.”
“So? The news is full of garbage.”
“Yeah, but my friends say that the stage is being set for a—a sort of coup. They say there is something wrong with the corn and they have proof.”
Jack looked at Ray. Ray stared at Jules.
“And you didn’t think that story was something I needed to know?”
The waitress came up. “Gentlemen, I was wondering—“
“Nothing else,” said Ray. “We need our check. We are late for something. I do apologize. The sooner the better, young lady.”
Ray stood up and in one fast gulp drank down the entire glass of Whiskey.
“Delicious,” said Ray with a smile to the waitress.
The waitress quickly handed Ray the bill as he put his coat back on. He handed Jules the check. The long dark twill fell to the backs of Ray’s knees.
Jules paid cash. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you very much,” said Ray with a wink to the young lady.
Her tip was more than generous.
“It was a pleasure having you gentlemen dine with us this afternoon,” said the woman with great professionalism.
“Thank you,” said Jack. Jules nodded to her. Ray was already at the door.
Jules hurried and stopped Ray outside. Jack was trying to get his own winter coat from the coat check inside.
“Ray, what was that?”
“Is this bait, Jules? Is this for real?”
Jules stared back at Ray.
“Good, then I want to meet these anarchist-hacker friends of yours right now.”
“I don’t think—“
“It will be simple. Tell them Ray Synad wants to know what is wrong with his corn and is willing to pay for the information regarding it. I have plenty of cash. I want the information, but I only want it if they aren’t making it public; and I want to know why they haven’t made it public yet if it is so powerful.”