risen through the ranks of TP Automotive over the course of twenty-six years.
Their disloyalty might have gone unconfirmed, even if it would have been suspected. But the two of them had made a fatal mistake.
Only a few weeks ago Alan and Lucy had scheduled a joint meeting with Bill Prescott in HR. Affecting the role of victims, the two of them had poured out their grievances over the new organization. Bill Prescott had dutifully listened, nodding sympathetically and taking notes, as HR managers are wont to do. He had given Ferguson and Browning vague promises to “look into the situation.”
Then Bill Prescott had just as dutifully reported the contents of the meeting to his new TP Automotive handlers. Describing his sudden revelation as a “confidential and sensitive personnel matter,” Prescott had practically scurried into the meeting room that Beth Fisk was currently using as a makeshift office.
Bill Prescott had been the personnel manager under the old GM-Takada partnership. The man knew which hand was feeding him now; and he was probably waiting for the day that he would be summoned into a closed meeting room and told that he was being let go. There were no such plans as of now—but Prescott’s insecurity about his situation seemed to have given him a desire to prove his loyalty to the new regime. Smart man.
Alan Ferguson and Lucy Browning, on the other hand, weren’t so smart. According to Prescott, Ferguson had gone so far as to refer to his new boss as a “daddy’s boy.” Bill Prescott had stammered and looked away as he repeated this, clearly uncomfortable with being even tangentially associated with such an insult.
“It’s uncomfortable for me to tell you this,” Prescott had said. By this time Beth had assembled the entire TP Automotive management team. “ But I thought that you should know.”
Shawn had silently nodded in response. Beth, Bernie, and his father had also been present in the meeting. He had been humiliated in front of his old man. His authority had been undermined.
Seeing Alan Ferguson now, Shawn was seized by a desire to smash the balding middle-aged man’s head to a pulp. He would use a—crowbar.
And then he recalled another crowbar from a long time ago—a crowbar covered in blood. He pushed the memory away. Those days were behind him now. No need to think about that .
Craig Walker would arrive tomorrow and take care of Lucy and Alan. He didn’t care as much about the terminations of Nick King and Michael O’Rourke. In fact, he had recently struck up a friendship of sorts with King. But wait until Alan and Lucy learned that they were being forced out. Just as soon as Craig Walker was able to deliver the goods on them.
On the subject of Craig Walker: There was something about the consultant that annoyed him—though he could not quite fathom what it was. And if Shawn wasn’t mistaken, the dislike seemed to be mutual.
Maybe the problem was that his father had taken a special liking to Craig. His father had spoken with the outside consultant in private, and had obviously taken him into his confidence.
By contrast, his father almost never shared secrets with him . More often Kurt was asking him questions about what he was doing, as if his father were perpetually afraid that he was going to screw up, to fall short of expectations.
Like the email he had received this morning about the upcoming monthly meeting and the inventory report.
The damned inventory report. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Nor could he afford to put it off much longer.
For a moment he allowed himself to consider ways by which he might avoid the monthly meeting: He could feign illness, or come up with some other excuse that would require his presence elsewhere.
Then he came back down to earth: Evading the meeting would not be an option. His father would be in attendance. And his father would expect him to be there, and to show up prepared.
This meant that he
Their disloyalty might have gone unconfirmed, even if it would have been suspected. But the two of them had made a fatal mistake.
Only a few weeks ago Alan and Lucy had scheduled a joint meeting with Bill Prescott in HR. Affecting the role of victims, the two of them had poured out their grievances over the new organization. Bill Prescott had dutifully listened, nodding sympathetically and taking notes, as HR managers are wont to do. He had given Ferguson and Browning vague promises to “look into the situation.”
Then Bill Prescott had just as dutifully reported the contents of the meeting to his new TP Automotive handlers. Describing his sudden revelation as a “confidential and sensitive personnel matter,” Prescott had practically scurried into the meeting room that Beth Fisk was currently using as a makeshift office.
Bill Prescott had been the personnel manager under the old GM-Takada partnership. The man knew which hand was feeding him now; and he was probably waiting for the day that he would be summoned into a closed meeting room and told that he was being let go. There were no such plans as of now—but Prescott’s insecurity about his situation seemed to have given him a desire to prove his loyalty to the new regime. Smart man.
Alan Ferguson and Lucy Browning, on the other hand, weren’t so smart. According to Prescott, Ferguson had gone so far as to refer to his new boss as a “daddy’s boy.” Bill Prescott had stammered and looked away as he repeated this, clearly uncomfortable with being even tangentially associated with such an insult.
“It’s uncomfortable for me to tell you this,” Prescott had said. By this time Beth had assembled the entire TP Automotive management team. “ But I thought that you should know.”
Shawn had silently nodded in response. Beth, Bernie, and his father had also been present in the meeting. He had been humiliated in front of his old man. His authority had been undermined.
Seeing Alan Ferguson now, Shawn was seized by a desire to smash the balding middle-aged man’s head to a pulp. He would use a—crowbar.
And then he recalled another crowbar from a long time ago—a crowbar covered in blood. He pushed the memory away. Those days were behind him now. No need to think about that .
Craig Walker would arrive tomorrow and take care of Lucy and Alan. He didn’t care as much about the terminations of Nick King and Michael O’Rourke. In fact, he had recently struck up a friendship of sorts with King. But wait until Alan and Lucy learned that they were being forced out. Just as soon as Craig Walker was able to deliver the goods on them.
On the subject of Craig Walker: There was something about the consultant that annoyed him—though he could not quite fathom what it was. And if Shawn wasn’t mistaken, the dislike seemed to be mutual.
Maybe the problem was that his father had taken a special liking to Craig. His father had spoken with the outside consultant in private, and had obviously taken him into his confidence.
By contrast, his father almost never shared secrets with him . More often Kurt was asking him questions about what he was doing, as if his father were perpetually afraid that he was going to screw up, to fall short of expectations.
Like the email he had received this morning about the upcoming monthly meeting and the inventory report.
The damned inventory report. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Nor could he afford to put it off much longer.
For a moment he allowed himself to consider ways by which he might avoid the monthly meeting: He could feign illness, or come up with some other excuse that would require his presence elsewhere.
Then he came back down to earth: Evading the meeting would not be an option. His father would be in attendance. And his father would expect him to be there, and to show up prepared.
This meant that he
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