Concealment (34 page)

Still, whatever the truth, Smithies would be mightily embarrassed if the recording became public.

‘Where did you get this?’ he asked, his face contorted with anxiety and coated in a film of sweat.

‘Not telling.’

I would never disclose that his predecessor had been so suspicious of Smithies that he’d bugged his office. Venner described it to me as a kind of insurance policy he hadn’t needed to claim on once his job offer from the client had come through. But he’d been so appalled by what he’d heard, he’d let the recording continue after he’d left. He figured it would always be useful to have the dirt on an unscrupulous bastard like Smithies. But ultimately, hearing about the mess I was in, and outraged by the rumours Smithies had started about the child-porn, he’d contacted me and handed me the evidence.

‘It can’t be genuine,’ Smithies protested lamely.

‘It is,’ I said, ‘and you know it. By the way, it gets worse.’

I honestly thought he might keel over and die as we listened to the next snippet, where Lisa coldly used the knowledge gained from Isabelle to blackmail Smithies into reinstating her promotion.

Her account of offering to be the eyes and ears of the group had always rung hollow to me. She’d simply gone to Smithies and threatened to expose his brother-in-law. It was
Lisa
, not Greg, who Isabelle chose to take into her confidence, and in doing so signed her own death warrant.

The final discussion was between Smithies and Greg. He mentioned how Isabelle had become a bit over-enthusiastic about the anomalies at JJ and warned Greg not to take any notice.

‘So you see,’ I said to him. ‘There were plenty other people who knew.’

‘But I had to alert Greg to these ridiculous allegations…’

‘Aha, so the conversation
was
genuine,’ I said triumphantly. ‘And the allegations weren’t ridiculous, were they?’

I removed the CD from the disk drive.

‘What will you do with it?’ Smithies asked, in a panicky voice.

‘Well, let’s see. I could take it to your mate Potter, or Bailey, or the BBC. Or I might even hand it into the police—they haven’t found enough evidence to arrest Goodchild yet.’

‘I was trying to help him out of a spot,’ said Smithies, as though this exonerated him. ‘Wouldn’t you do the same for your sister’s husband?’

‘No—I wouldn’t,’ I said, surprising myself at the force of my denial.

‘But it would be a tremendous own goal for you if you made this public,’ he said, still attempting to press my insecurity buttons in the old way. ‘The firm’s reputation should be paramount in your thinking.’

The buttons didn’t work anymore.

‘Why should I care? You guys are squaring up to fire me anyway.’

‘I can categorically confirm that nobody’s ever suggested firing you.’

‘Your assurances count for nothing. But there is another way…’

‘What?’ he demanded eagerly, like a drowning man snatching at a twig.

‘If you could overlook my failure to report…’

‘I
do not
give into blackmail threats.’

‘Oh yes you do,’ I said, raising my eyebrows a fraction.

‘But it’s out of my hands…’

‘OK, let’s put it this way, you may have significant influence over the matter…’

‘And if I do what you want will you destroy the CD?’

Oh dear. Was that born out of blind optimism or hopeless naivety? He didn’t seem to recognise that he no longer had the power to manipulate me.

‘No, I won’t.’

‘No deal then.’

For all his acuity, he failed to appreciate the weakness of his own negotiating position.

‘OK—no deal. This goes public. I’ll take my chances over the minor compliance issue.’

‘I
need
the disk.’

‘Sure, but I’m not giving it to you. I want you to sweat over it, to be looking over your shoulder, knowing I can bring you down any time I choose. Because that’s how I felt when you victimised me.’

‘It wasn’t like that, Amy. I’ve always had your best interests at heart, but you were ill and too insecure and paranoid to see it.’

‘Well,’ I breezily replied. ‘Let’s see who’s insecure and paranoid now, shall we?’

***

I had one more person to confront.

‘Are you sure they have your meds right?’ said Bailey when I handed in my resignation.

I understood his surprise. There were two ways of playing the firing game if you were on the receiving end. The first was to fight and try to prove them wrong, and act like you were desperate to hang onto your position. Only losers played it that way. Alternatively you could sit on your arse and wait for them to make the moves. The “tough guys” favoured this approach, and generally secured a bigger pay-off to go away and stop bugging everyone. Ideally method two could be combined, as in Venner’s case, with a timely and lucrative job offer.

But giving them the finger and walking away from five hundred thousand a year with no compensation and no job to go to featured nowhere in the corporate games manual. It was akin to throwing the chessboard up in the air in a fit of petulance rather than figuring out the moves in a game you knew you’d ultimately lose.

Unsurprisingly, Smithies had backtracked on the “minor compliance breach”. But they’d find something else later. Bailey wielded the ultimate power and he didn’t care for me much either.

I guess he liked me even less after I’d explained why I was leaving.

Greg had been scared to disclose what he’d discovered at JJ, so he’d ended up helping the client to conceal it, with disastrous consequences. The money laundering reporting officer wasn’t truly independent. And when I’d raised a few enquiries, I’d been pressured to stop. This was not a healthy environment for anyone, leaving aside the numerous corporate governance issues. And I told him so.

‘Fear runs through this whole firm like a cancer,’ I concluded, with a dramatic flourish. ‘Fear of making a mistake—fear of being fired because we don’t fit in—fear of telling our people the truth—fear of facing the truth ourselves. And the rot starts from the top.’

‘That’s only your perception.’

‘Ah yes, but perception is reality, isn’t it?’

‘Those meds you’re on certainly pack a mighty punch.’

I noticed for the first time what a nervous, wiry little man he was without his bully-boy henchmen to prop him up. And he was wrong about the meds—I’d stopped taking them—who needed antipsychotic pills to deal with reality?

‘You were a sensible partner before all this nonsense. But if your mind is made up…’

I understood—there was no place in Pearson Malone for someone who had the guts to speak the truth about the organisation’s weaknesses.

‘It is.’

I stood up to leave and he rose to shake my hand. Then he paused.

‘One last thing before you go, Amy. I’d value your opinion on something. I believe you’re the one person who won’t try to bullshit me.’

‘You can count on that.’

‘It’s about Lisa Carter—you were her sponsoring partner, weren’t you?’

How quickly he’d slipped into the past tense.

‘Yes.’

‘She had her executive interview yesterday.’

Ah yes, the final hurdle in her unseemly scramble to partnership.

‘I take it she passed?’

I didn’t care either way now.

‘Not necessarily. Having Kelly as her assessing partner didn’t help her cause, but to be frank a couple of the board expressed some doubts.’

‘Doubts about what?’

‘Her judgement.’

‘Really?’

To my mind her judgement of how best to progress in the toxic cesspool of Pearson Malone had been spot on.

‘Yes, the view is she should have spotted the irregularities at JJ.’

‘Did you ask her about it?’

‘Yes—she said she’d suspected nothing.’

‘And your problem with that is?’ I asked warily, unsure of his agenda.

‘She might be lying, afraid of admitting to having suspicions and then doing nothing…’

‘Yes,’ I agreed, still apprehensive about where this might be leading.

‘But the real worry is she genuinely didn’t suspect anything. And there’s the nub of the matter. In this job we need a sixth sense to sniff out trouble. And if Lisa lacks that, she doesn’t have what it takes.’

He seemed blithely oblivious to the irony of this statement.

‘Quite,’ I agreed. ‘So fail her, if that’s how you feel.’

‘The board is split,’ explained Bailey. ‘Everyone agreed that if she failed to smell a rat, she shouldn’t be promoted, bearing in mind the concerns at the assessment centre over her risk management. But several board members suspected she might be lying to protect her own position, and they had a degree of sympathy.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I can see that they would.’

This shocking attitude only vindicated my decision to quit. I’d no desire to be part of a culture where lying might be justified but an honest failure to identify a fraud was regarded as a major weakness.

‘So you know Lisa better than anyone—and you voiced suspicions about the JJ account, so it can’t be unreasonable to expect her to have spotted something too. What do you think?’

Giddy at the power that lay in my hands, I didn’t hesitate. Lisa had ruthlessly exploited the frailties of those above her to get to the top, in spite of her claims to moral superiority. Why even the assessment centre had been fudged, and I reckoned she knew it. No one more richly deserved to be hoist by her own petard.

‘In my opinion, she’s definitely telling the truth. And there’s no need to rely on me—read her application papers. Honesty is one of Lisa’s major strengths. She’d never tell a lie.’

‘That’s what I thought too,’ said Bailey. ‘Thank you, Amy. And goodbye.’

We shook hands and I walked away, certain we would never meet again.

THE END

Many thanks to everyone who helped bring this book to publication.

First, to my trusted test readers—Gen Moore, Sue Hannaford, Dominic Brown, Paul Williams, Soo Morris and Terri Hamrick. Your positive feedback encouraged me, and your constructive criticism spurred me on to make much needed improvements.

A special thank you goes to Dr Simon Baker, Consultant Psychiatrist with the Sussex Partnership NHS Foundation Trust, who not only read the book, but assessed Amy and provided a summary diagnosis for her GP. His input on procedural matters under the Mental Health Act was also most valuable.

Being a writer can be a lonely business and the guidance of fellow authors is always much appreciated. The lovely Terry Tyler and Diane Mannion have been particularly helpful.

I am also grateful to Ana Grigoriu, who designed the stunningly appropriate cover, to Diana Horner of eBookPartnership who formatted the e-book version and to Clare Davidson who formatted the paperback version. And, of course, to Julia Gibbs, my proofreader, who hunted down all those pesky typos with ruthless zeal.

Amy’s childhood living with her hoarder mother has shaped much of her adult life. Having grown up in a similar environment I share some of her insecurities, and writing Concealment has been a cathartic experience. During this time, it has been wonderful to have the support of the people on the Children of Hoarders (COH) message board. Without these hugely resilient and amazing friends, I would never have had the courage to ‘come out’ as a COH, let alone use the material in my thrillers. As a mark of my gratitude, I shall donate 50% of the royalties from this book to the not for profit organization Children of Hoarders Inc.

Finally, I am forever indebted to my long-suffering husband David and son Peter for tolerating my ups and downs, not just while writing this book, but always.

If you’ve enjoyed CONCEALMENT, Rose would greatly appreciate a few words on Amazon or Goodreads from you to say so.

You may also enjoy reading Rose’s other book NEVER SAY SORRY, a thriller about a Big Pharma conspiracy to suppress a miracle cancer cure.

Amy will be back next year in a new adventure. Meanwhile you can find out more about what Rose is up to on
www.roseedmunds.co.uk
or follow her on Twitter @roseedmunds.