He did not realize how much he had missed Raleigh until this very moment. His villa on the Amalfi Coast was everything he had recalled from his one brief visit, a true Renaissance castle. His wife was ecstatic, still walking around in a dreamlike state, scarcely believing it was actually hers. But in truth he was not made for the easy life, no matter how sweet the wine nor how fine the Mediterranean light. He missed the fray, the battles, the danger. Power was nothing unless it was used.
His houseman came out toting his two alligator bags. “Have a good flight?”
“Long. Naples to London, London to home.” Home. How wonderful a word it was. How much Marcus Glenwood and this case had almost cost him.
The houseman shut the trunk, glanced over, and asked, “You all right, sir?”
“Fine.” Randall Walker forced his limbs to unlock from the sudden burning fury.
“You’ve gone all white.”
“I’m just tired, that’s all.” He let the houseman open his door, slid inside, tried to settle the churning rage. It had been like this, on and off, ever since his departure. Sudden furies that threatened to send him screaming about the villa, shattering everything and everyone in his path.
He had to come back. Had to be there for the kill. He pulled out his cellular phone and keyed in the number for Logan’s home. When the man answered, Randall said simply, “I’m back.”
“Where have you been?”
A wave of relief swept through him. Logan’s tone was naturally impatient, demanding. Which meant the China Trade Council chairman had not gone through with his threat of public dismissal. James Southerland, the CEO of New Horizons, had assured Randall that he would personally handle the council chairman and his hair-trigger temper. Obviously Southerland was a man of his word.
Randall forced himself to ease back. He smiled at the ceiling over the backseat, then at the night outside. “Business in Italy. I hear it went well today in court.”
“You should have been there.” Logan’s gloating voice rang like great Oriental gongs. “Suzie just plain tore that guy apart.”
“You taped it?”
“Unofficially.”
“I want a copy.”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Any problems with the general?”
“None. He hasn’t spoken more than ten words to me since his arrival. The guy might as well be one of those big carved Chinese dogs.”
Not according to Randall’s other sources. In private, the general was a frenzied maniac, screaming for the blood of everyone who had trapped him within this Carolina courthouse. Which was what had brought the New Horizons chairman back to the United States, not the judge’s so-called request. “When are you planning to have James Southerland testify?”
“Last thing tomorrow.”
“You mind walking me through your strategy?”
Randall leaned back and listened to the trial attorney sketch out his plan of attack. Walker’s mind expanded gradually, stretching and assuming the old familiar shape. He sighed, working the anger and the anxiety from his bones. Randall Walker was indeed home.
The next morning Marcus was relegated to the injury box, sitting and watching as Logan began an onslaught of witnesses. In swift succession the defense attorney led his people through their paces. He attacked hard and fast, moving in for the kill while Marcus was still flayed and wounded. Charlie handled the work like a pro, taking on the witnesses according to Marcus’ written notes, striking back with what force he could muster.
Two workers were brought forward to counteract the plaintiff’s accusations of New Horizons’ mistreatment of employees. The personnel manager described their sensitivity program, given to all levels of management at all U.S. facilities. A black female VP from New York described her rise from the factory floor of their New Jersey plant, one that Charlie managed to reveal on cross had long since been closed and moved south. With each witness Logan drove home the company’s excellent labor policies. Solid training schemes. Great working conditions. How well New Horizons treated their employees. Even in his drained state, Marcus could not help seeing that his case was evaporating. Logan was distancing himself and his clients from the accusations, drawing the jury farther and farther from the initial testimony.
The day’s final witness came as no great surprise, since he had spent the entire day seated between Logan and Suzie Rikkers. As chairman and chief executive officer of New Horizons Incorporated, James Southerland was as polished and powerful as a man in his position was expected to be. Logan’s opening question granted him an opportunity to apologize first to the jury and then to the judge for not being there throughout. But with a two-billion-dollar company to run and over two dozen foreign subsidiaries to manage, Southerland explained, making time for this case required a great deal of juggling. Nevertheless, he was here, and he wanted to set their minds straight on some very important matters about his fine company. Judge Nicols sat stone-faced as Logan respectfully walked the chairman through the company’s vast array of subsidiaries. Photographs were shown, supposedly taken from the Factory 101 shop floor. The pictures showed well-lit, pleasant enough surroundings. The workers were clearly Asian. The gleaming machinery was all new and part of New Horizons’ investment in this fine, upstanding partnership, the chairman declared, his tone as refined as his appearance. General Zhao unbent enough to offer his first reaction other than silent fury, smiling benignly as Southerland praised the partnership and the wonderful opportunities it offered their workers.
At Logan’s request, Southerland explained why few employees knew where the products came from. The company’s policy was for all their products to be treated as New Horizons’ and not belonging to any particular factory. Some workers on the shop floor were resentful of products coming from foreign suppliers, he explained with an apologetic smile. The way the company handled this was, once a product entered their distribution center, to mark its origin only with a tiny inside tag, which was hidden by the packaging.
Charlie did his best on cross. He showed how each of the managers who had testified earlier had over a third of their total salary tied up in annual bonuses, which were given at the sole discretion of senior management. He then turned to the company’s policy of employee screening, and asked Southerland to describe the extensive background checks given to all managers. Was it not true that they did this, Charlie demanded, because of all the complaints that had been lodged by earlier managers about company practices? When Logan’s objection was upheld, Charlie changed his tack and asked if the company had ever had an independent audit of its overtime wage payments. That objection led to Charlie asking if the company were not currently under federal investigation for unfair labor practices.
Logan had not even bothered to sit down after his previous objection. “Your Honor, I must request you halt this line of questioning. In case everyone has forgotten, this trial is supposedly about a woman missing in China.”
Judge Nicols glanced at Charlie, who wearily struggled to fend off the strain of an overlong day. “Mr. Hayes, I must agree.”
Charlie allowed his shoulders to slump, speaking volumes to all who watched. “Plaintiff requests permission to recall this witness.”
“Permission granted.” Judge Nicols tried hard to keep the pity from showing. But she failed, and for Marcus her expression was the stamp of death to their case.
“Then for the moment we have no further questions.” Charlie felt it too. He slid into his seat and murmured so quietly Marcus could scarcely hear it himself, “Sorry, son.”
“You did fine.”
“Don’t dress the wounded with lies, son. It doesn’t help. They cleaned my clock, and we both know it.” Charlie used the knuckles of both thumbs to squeeze the fatigue and the perspiration from his temples. “All I could do was give you a chance to get in there later and deliver a few blows of your own.”