BLIND TRIAL by Brian Deer (best books to read for beginners TXT) 📗

“Yeah, but like more personally. What makes him tick, do you think?”

“Hey, you know enough of that already. Don’t ask me. Huh? If you want to know him better, know yourself.”

The general counsel dropped his hands, letting the bag slip to his lap, spread its grips and peered inside. “If what you’re asking here’s, ‘So how come they nailed him?’ then I gotta say I agree. Shouldn’t have happened. Sometimes there’s nothing as blind as what passes for justice in this country.”

Berlioz faded into an NPR announcer begging her listeners for money. Hoffman closed the bag and lowered the radio volume. “No, loyalty’s the thing. And your pa’s a guy with plenty of that, I can tell you. Loyalty. What you think about loyalty yourself?”

“Sure. Definitely. I’m for it.”

“Easy to say. Not so easy under pressure. What about loyalty in tricky spots?”

“I’d say even more important then. Obviously.”

“Okay, that’s right. Sure. ‘More important,’ you say. But now, you see this job? We got a real tricky spot here. Maybe heading some way beyond regular loyalty. And I’m thinking we can’t drag you into it, what with you just starting out with the company.”

“But…”

“Best thing for you, I’m thinking, is you head back to the office. Go make your peace with Crampton.”

“But what about Dr. Honda? We’re getting on great. We are. I mean, even with the reply forms thing, I think she’ll be cool if I stick around, like you sent me out here for. I’m pretty certain I can feel something happening.”

Hoffman stroked a cheek. “Uhm. No. Not so sure about that now with this latest shit. That was our Plan A. Sure. That’s good. But now I’m thinking’s what we need’s a Plan B. This Murayama guy’s out here with propositions to one of our people at a critical juncture. We can’t go letting those Japs fuck us over, after all the company’s been through. There’s nothing we done to deserve that.”

“Plan B? Maybe I can help with that. I mean, we were getting pretty friendly this morning. She’s got a bottle of gin in her desk.”

“Show me your phone again.”

Ben passed the Samsung.

Hoffman squeezed the power button and passed it back. “Dunno. I’m thinking, too sensitive. What with the old girl turning up those forms. That I did not expect. Even with these motherfucking dickheads, I didn’t see anything like that coming. Whatever way you look at it, that’s difficult shit. That’s a fraud on the government. No. Better keep your nose clean for now, so you still got a clean nose when you need it.”

“But then don’t you think my assignment’s even more important now? Don’t you think? Keep her cool, like you said. Make her happy. And maybe I can help with Murayama too. I can WhatsApp him back and set something up for lunch. He might tell me what’s going down. Be crazy to pull out now, don’t you think?”

Hoffman killed the radio, sat silent for a few seconds, then teased open the yellow bag again. Inside was another bag: also plastic, but transparent, with something in it Ben couldn’t see.

“Look kid, I’m none too sure here. I don’t think just asking him is necessarily a dependable strategy. Not five days before our licensure. There’s too much at stake to take chances. One day’s delay on that vaccine’s bad news.”

“No harm trying though, is there? Nothing’s lost. I mean, I can be careful what I say. I’m good at that.”

“Maybe. But that’s not the Plan B in my mind. What I’m thinking’s something needing a pretty big element of compromise. Maybe in some respects, maybe an ethical dilemma, given the exceptional situation we got here. How you feel about that, compromise?”

“No question. Compromise is good. The middle way. Nobody gets it all their own way.”

“Dunno. Given what we’re up against now, there’s this small extra job here, possibly. On top of you keeping Dr. Honda sweet. And it may not be one hundred percent ethical, it might be argued. Possibly.”

“Guess there’s gotta be some kind of risk-benefit analysis. Balance of public interest. Weighing things up.”

“Risk’s minimal, or we’d forget about it. And the benefit? That might be saving the timely launch of our vaccine millions of folks out there are waiting on. And saving the company we work for while we’re doing it.”

“Well, if all that’s at stake, it’s got to be worth considering. Don’t you think?”

“Dunno. It might not even be strictly legal, some folks might argue, possibly.”

“I honestly don’t think I should go back to Atlanta without trying. Doc Mayr’s a decent lady. I think she needs me, too.”

“You mean that?”

“Sure, I mean it.”

“And you heard what I said?”

“You count me in. Like I was saying the other day, I want to prove myself, show you can trust me.”

Now the bags were wide open, revealing a brown paper package. It looked like it held a fat book. “Okay.” A long pause. “I’m trusting you now.”

“Thank you, sir. You can.”

Hoffman chuckled. “I know. Chip off the block. Can’t fool me. Never could. Now, you see this?”

Ben looked at the bags, and the brown paper package.

“Now you don’t touch that package. You gotta imagine how it’s maybe poisoned, got some disease on it, or something like that. Course, it’s not, but you gotta act like it is. What I’m saying’s the bags are fine, but don’t ever touch that package.”

Ben leaned across the gearshift. “What is it?”

Hoffman rested his “groceries” on the center console between them. “Souvenir of Frisco. A gift.”

Ben grinned. “Not a bomb?”

“Get out of here. What kind of people you think we are?”

“So, what?”

“Dunno. Haven’t opened it myself. Be something nice, though. Better than those iPads you been giving out.”

“So?”

“So, we’re only a little concerned to be sure Murayama enjoys Frisco. Want to be sure he gets to see all the sights.”

“Sure. No problem. You want me to give it him? I can WhatsApp him back for lunch and give it him then.”

“That’s one idea. Sure. But I’m thinking