My Honorable Brother Read online

One of the messages waiting for Fiore when he got to the office that morning was from Dick Birnbaum, a corporate lawyer at WC&B who said he had a matter he wanted to discuss. Birnbaum tried to reach him the day before, in the middle of the afternoon, but Dana Briggs’s standing instructions were to tell anyone in the firm who called (with just a few exceptions) that Doug was unable to come to the phone. He invariably let at least half a day go by before he returned any call, and liked to use the time to anticipate what might be on someone else’s mind.

  Fiore took the Herald sports page out of his briefcase after telling Briggs to let Birnbaum know he was free. The Super Bowl was being played that Sunday and he wanted to check on the starting time. He ignored the hype that filled the paper every day for the two weeks before the game, but monitored the predictions the local sports writers made on the outcome. On the final Friday, he always posted his own prediction of the score outside his office door. But he never made a bet on the game, even refusing to back up his forecast of the outcome with a five dollar contribution to the pool set up by the lawyers for the entry coming closest to the actual score.

  Birnbaum arrived a few minutes later. He had a scowl on his face and stood by the door to the office, waiting for Fiore to tell him it was all right to close it. He didn’t bother to put on his suit jacket before coming. The cuffs of his white shirt were buttoned and the knot of his tie was neatly in place. As soon as he sat down, Birnbaum said that he wanted to have a new secretary.

  “I’m up to here with Janice Rossman,” he complained, moving his right hand to his eyes.

  Fiore reacted with a look of surprise. “What’s the trouble?” he asked.

  Birnbaum anticipated the question. “First of all, Doug, and probably most important, I can’t get her to work any overtime. I don’t have to tell you what kind of problems that can give me. Five o’clock comes and she’s out the door. Second, she’s away from her desk too much, just disappears somewhere, and isn’t there when I need her. Third, she makes too many typing mistakes from my dictation, and her spelling is atrocious. Like ‘atrocious’ would end in ‘s-h-i-s.’ Let me see, fourth, she forgets to give me messages half the time. And finally, a few of my clients have said she comes off sounding rude and impatient to them when they call!”

  Birnbaum made a motion with his hand in Fiore’s direction. “Is that enough?” he asked. He hoped Doug wouldn’t think his question was raised facetiously. “I don’t want to bother taking this through the office manager,” he continued. “Sometimes it gets very political. I’d just like you to tell Helen Barone to get me a good secretary as soon as possible.”

  Fiore sat back in his chair and smiled. “I thought the team of Birnbaum and Rossman was going to hit it off,” he said. “I’m disappointed.”

  Birnbaum took Fiore’s remark the wrong way and was quick to reply. “My mother always wanted me to marry a Jewish girl, Doug. She said it would kill her if I didn’t. Well, she got her wish ten years ago. She doesn’t give a damn whether my secretary is Jewish and neither do I.” Birnbaum said it without a trace of a smile and got up. “I’m really swamped. I’ve got to get back to work.” He thought the Jewish issue gave him a leg up in the conversation and decided to switch from asking to demanding. “Tell Helen I want someone who knows what she’s doing and can do it after five o’clock.”

  Fiore didn’t say anything to correct the misimpression. He didn’t see any reason to embarrass Birnbaum at this point. The change of tone in his voice didn’t bother Doug, and he made no promises. He liked Dick Birnbaum and ordinarily would have acceded to the request on the spot, but he was just given an interesting situation to play with and decided to take his time with it. “I’ll check it out,” he answered.

  * * *

  Half an hour later Frankie Scardino stuck his head in the door. “Have you got a few minutes?” he asked.

  Fiore looked up from a file he was reviewing. “It’s too early for me to handle any of this month’s numbers,” he answered.

  Scardino said it was about something else, and took the reply as an invitation to enter. Minutes earlier he had washed his face in the men’s room, leaving it somewhat wet, and now mopped his forehead and chin with his handkerchief as if he were wiping off some traces of sweat. He purposely looked agitated, and had checked the look in the mirror before going to Fiore’s office. Doug invited him to sit down in the chair closest to the desk and signaled with a nod of his head that he was waiting to hear what was on Frankie’s mind.

  Scardino said that Kathy Marini, the mail room supervisor, was giving him a hard time. “She’s not doing her job the way I want her to. She has her own ideas about directing the different part-timers we employ there.”

  Fiore knew that Marini’s group also included kitchen help who delivered coffee to conference rooms, those who moved furniture around the office and one or two who picked up supplies in the firm’s truck. “The problem is,” Scardino repeated, “she refuses to do things my way, even after I discussed them with her several times.”

  “So what do you want?” Fiore asked.

  “The bottom line is that I want to let her go before I lose control in those areas.”

  Fiore was silent while absorbing the request. He thought Marini was pleasant enough and couldn’t recall any complaints about her from anyone else. She was a clerk in the firm’s library for about three years. Her work there consisted mostly of copying documents, filing the various reporting services that were received each week or assisting one of the attorneys with legal research on the computer. She was promoted to her present job about three months before Scardino came to WC&B as its new comptroller from his position at the Truro Savings Bank. Doug reminded himself that a year had already passed since Scardino joined the firm. He couldn’t imagine what Marini was doing differently to get Frankie all worked up. Even though he knew she could be replaced by any number of women in the firm and wouldn’t be missed after she was gone, he didn’t like the idea of terminating office employees, especially women, who worked well and showed loyalty to the firm. Scardino’s request was starting to bother him.

  “If you do that, who’s going to replace her?” he asked.

  Scardino took a deep breath before replying. “I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s my feeling we ought to let Janice Rossman try it. She’s been doing a terrific job for Dick Birnbaum, really putting out, and this would be a good reward for her. Besides, it would let me send a message to the other secretaries that there’s room to move up in the firm. I’m sure they’d all like to know that.”

  Fiore listened and chuckled to himself. That told him all he had to know about Marini’s performance. He was sure that Rossman was “really putting out” all right, but for Scardino, not Birnbaum. He figured that she probably told Frankie she was going to keep her legs crossed unless he came through for her with a job that paid more money. Doug could sympathize with Scardino’s dilemma but decided to play with him a while longer.

  “Even if everything you say about Rossman is true, shouldn’t we be offering it to one of the gals with more seniority?” he asked.

  Scardino said he didn’t think that was a good idea. He felt that the women who were at the firm a long time probably had a strong attachment to John Gray, his predecessor, and would have trouble taking orders from him on account of it. Everyone knew that Gray was eased out after twenty-seven years at the firm, replaced within weeks by Scardino.

  “Most of the other clericals probably blame me for it, just because I took Gray’s place,” he said. “Rossman’s new blood, and she’s got a lot of ambition. I’m sure she’d have no trouble telling everyone who worked under her to do things the way I want them done.”

  Fiore loved every minute of it. He saw himself as the judge presiding over Rossman’s trial. First Birnbaum testified about all her faults. Then Scardino sat in the same chair and told him how great she was. He knew, of course, who was telling the truth. He enjoyed the irony in the fact that letting Frankie guarantee himself a piece of ass f
or a while longer would make Birnbaum very happy at the same time. Marini was the only loser, and Doug was unhappy about that, but he knew he could ease her pain somewhat.

  “Do what you want,” he said, “provided Helen Barone comes up with a good secretary to take Rossman’s place. I don’t want Dick to suffer for one day on account of this.” He could barely get the words out with a straight face. Then he suddenly had a new thought. “Ask Marini if she’d like to switch over and work for Birnbaum at the same pay she’s getting now. If she doesn’t, give her a week’s pay for every year she’s been here and tell her we’ll keep her on our health plan for up to six months.” That should give her two good options, he thought, and plenty of time to settle in somewhere else if she chooses to leave.

  Scardino thanked Fiore, assured him he’d take care of both matters and left. As soon as he was out of the office, a big smile crossed his face.

  A while later Dana Briggs brought in the mail. She often came around to Fiore’s side of the desk when she put it down, informing him of the contents of some of the envelopes she already opened. Dana scolded him, but only mildly, whenever he let his hand get busy on top of her skirt, reminding him that anyone might suddenly open the door.

  The two of them slept together off and on for a couple of years before she got married. She was his secretary during the period they were intimate. When she returned from her honeymoon, she asked to be transferred to another lawyer on a different floor. Doug didn’t quarrel with her decision, but pushed her to take her old job again when he completed his third year as managing partner. He felt he needed someone who could be his eyes and ears while he was out of the office, and he relied on the confidences they shared in the past as the basis for trusting her completely.

  “Frankie’s going to give Kathy Marini’s job to Janice and let Kathy go if she turns down a position with Dick Birnbaum,” he told her. He didn’t have to say the last name. Dana had mentioned the apparent liaison between Rossman and Scardino to him just a couple of days after Doug first heard it from Carol Singer.

  “I’m not sure you want to know this,” Dana said at the time. “I’ve been keeping this from you, but you may need it later.” He expressed surprise when she informed him of the relationship, and was even more confident of her loyalty to him.

  “That son of a bitch,” was all Dana said now. She was angry at Doug for going along with it, but knew better than to ask him why he did. Instead, she hurried through her discourse on the mail and left.

  * * *

  The large manila envelope that came by registered mail that same morning caught Fiore’s attention first. It was postmarked in Denver, Colorado. The cover letter inside was signed by a Cyril Berman who introduced himself as Doug’s campaign manager.

  Berman wrote that initial contacts were being made on Fiore’s behalf throughout Rhode Island. A select group of people was being told only that if there was going to be a contest for governor, a young lawyer whom they’d be able to wholeheartedly support would be announcing his candidacy in March or April. The name wasn’t being released yet to anyone, even unofficially. He was also letting some of them know that the Tarantino family knew the candidate intimately and would do everything it could to get him elected.

  The letter from Berman expressed his optimism about the campaign’s ability to raise funds once they were able to go public. He urged Fiore to begin reviewing the position papers that were in the envelope. “Let me make it very clear,” he wrote, “that you are expected to adopt every one of them as your own, whether you are in agreement with them now or not.”

  Berman pointed out that Fiore was in an enviable situation. “No opponent can accuse you of waffling on any of these issues because you’ve never had to speak out on them before. If you are personally unhappy with or opposed to one or more of these positions, you will have ample opportunity while in the governor’s office to judiciously amend any stance you have taken. For now, the positions outlined for you are the ones that will win votes.”

  Berman’s cover letter was on a plain piece of white stationery that showed no return address or telephone number. At the end, he informed Fiore that he would continue to communicate with him. The last line read, “I am instructing you to take this letter and have it shredded immediately.”

  Doug put the letter in a regular envelope and sealed it. He buzzed Dana to come back in and told her to shred it just as it was. He trusted her with everything.

  * * *

  After returning the other papers to the manila envelope and slipping it inside his briefcase, Fiore looked at the rest of the mail. A small, pink-colored envelope caught his attention, addressed in longhand to “Mr. and Mrs. Douglas Fiore.” He turned it over and saw an address on Orchard Avenue in Providence that he didn’t recognize.

  Fiore inserted the tip of his long silver letter opener into the space left by the unsealed corner of the flap and slit the envelope across the top. The card he removed had a picture of “Uncle Sam” on the front, in full patriotic attire, along with a similarly dressed female. Both were pointing a finger at the reader above the message, “We Want You.” It was an invitation for him and Grace to attend a Valentine Day’s party being given by Pat and Brad Hanley at their home.

  Fiore sat back and thought about it. He knew Brad Hanley for about five years, ever since the Tarantino family bought a strong minority interest in Ocean State Wire & Cable. Hanley’s instructions were to call Walters, Cassidy & Breen with any legal problems that arose. There wasn’t a great deal of hands-on work for Doug to do for them in that time. But when the wire company’s labor contract came up for negotiation a few years back, Fiore assigned the work to George Ryder, and he recalled now that Ryder was also involved in a few arbitration cases for Ocean State. That contract is probably due to be negotiated again, he thought.

  Fiore couldn’t recall the last time he saw Hanley, although he spoke to him on the telephone occasionally when Sandy Tarantino raised a question about something or other at the plant. Sandy preferred to have Doug get the answers for him. It had all been strictly business between Hanley and himself. There was never a lunch or dinner at which the two of them could relax and get to know each other. Thinking about it, Fiore didn’t have an answer as to why he never initiated some personal contact. He decided that there must have been something about Hanley that turned him off.

  He did remember meeting Pat Hanley at the plant on one occasion. If his memory was correct, it was the first or second time he went over there after the Tarantinos got involved. She had short brown hair and was quite attractive, but didn’t show any interest in talking to him after they were introduced. Now, out of the blue, he and Grace were invited to party with the Hanleys.

  “I wonder what’s up,” he said, the words falling softly from his lips.

  * * *

  Another unexpected visit that morning came from Bob Gorman. The firm’s onetime managing partner and Fiore communicated only on rare occasions. It usually occurred when Gorman took advantage of the safe environment of a partners’ meeting to raise a question about some new firm policy that disturbed him. He was afraid of Fiore, disgusted by the way, in his opinion, Doug used the power of his position. He wished the firm had never hired him. Gorman also knew he would always come out the loser if Fiore asked for a partners vote on any policy change he was requesting that Gorman opposed.

  For his part, Fiore took to mimicking Gorman in conversations with close friends at the office. “What we used to do around here in a case like that …” he would say, in an almost perfect imitation of Gorman’s nasal sound. It was always a sure way to produce loud laughter from those who were there for the performance.

  I wish that guy would take early retirement and get out of here, Doug often thought, but he knew that Gorman enjoyed his role as one of the senior partners of the firm. Fiore fully expected him to petition the other partners to be allowed to continue working on a part-time basis after he turned sixty-five. “And probably even after he reaches seventy,�
�� he muttered in disgust.

  Sometimes Fiore wished that he could operate like the general manager of a baseball team. How he’d like to trade away a few of his veteran lawyers for younger prospects at some of the other firms in town. Were that ever to happen, he mused, he certainly knew which lawyers he’d move out “for the good of the team” as quickly as he could. As to Gorman in particular, Doug figured he probably still harbored thoughts of being a kingmaker again someday. His greatest achievement, were he able to pull it off, would be finding and supporting someone in the firm who could get the votes to unseat Fiore as managing partner. There was no love lost between the two of them.

  Gorman sat down and crossed one long leg over the other. The move revealed a pair of blue argyle socks. He was uncomfortable being alone with Fiore, which meant avoiding any chitchat and getting straight to the point. Doug was grateful for that because the less time he had to spend with Bob Gorman on any matter, the better he felt.

  The thing they were all working for, Gorman began, was to make WC&B the best law firm in Rhode Island. “It’s our job to try and maximize income for everyone through hard work,” Gorman continued. “It’s not good for any partner or associate to be sitting around with a lot of time on his hands if there’s work in the office he could be doing.”

  Fiore understood where the conversation was heading. Gorman was there to make a case for George Ryder. One dinosaur trying to save another, he thought. He could sympathize with Gorman’s good intentions in trying to help out another partner, but it wasn’t going to work with Ryder. Ryder was hanging himself with his low billables, and Doug wasn’t going to let anyone loosen the noose.

  “There are all kinds of reasons why a lawyer can suddenly find himself with not much to do. I know you’re aware of that, Doug. But you’re the managing partner. It’s up to you to step in if you see that happening and try to spread the work around.”

  Fiore remained silent. He wanted Gorman to get it over with.