Disclosure_ A Novel - Michael Crichton [127]
“Exactly,” Blackburn said.
“And if he—”
Blackburn put his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, you have to—”
“—So—want me to—”
Blackburn said something quiet in reply, and Sanders heard none of it, except the phrase “—must demolish him.”
“—Can do that—”
“—Make sure—counting on you—”
There was the shrill sound of a telephone. Both Meredith and Blackburn reached for their pockets. Meredith answered the call, and the two began to move toward the exit. They were heading toward Sanders.
Panicked, Sanders looked around, and saw a men’s room to his right. He slipped inside the door as they came out of the conference room and started down the hallway.
“Don’t worry about this, Meredith,” Blackburn said. “It’ll go fine.”
“I’m not worried,” she said.
“It should be quite smooth and impersonal,” Blackburn said. “There’s no reason for rancor. After all, you have the facts on your side. He’s clearly incompetent.”
“He still can’t get into the database?” she said.
“No. He’s locked out of the system.”
“And there’s no way he can get into Conley-White’s system?”
Blackburn laughed. “No way in hell, Meredith.”
The voices faded, moving down the hallway. Sanders strained to listen, finally heard the click of a door closing. He stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway.
The hallway was deserted. He stared toward the far door.
His own telephone rang in his pocket, the sound so loud it made him jump. He answered it. “Sanders.”
“Listen,” Fernandez said. “I sent the draft of your contract to Blackburn’s office, but it came back with a couple of added statements that I’m not sure about. I think we better meet to discuss them.”
“In an hour,” Sanders said.
“Why not now?”
“I have something to do first,” he said.
Ah, Thomas.” Max Dorfman opened the door to his hotel room and immediately wheeled away, back toward the television set. “You have finally decided to come.”
“You’ve heard?”
“Heard what?” Dorfman said. “I am an old man. No one bothers with me anymore. I’m cast by the wayside. By everyone—including you.” He clicked off the television set and grinned.
Sanders said, “What have you heard?”
“Oh, just a few things. Rumors, idle talk. Why don’t you tell me yourself?”
“I’m in trouble, Max.”
“Of course you are in trouble,” Dorfman snorted. “You have been in trouble all week. You only noticed now?”
“They’re setting me up.”
“They?”
“Blackburn and Meredith.”
“Nonsense.”
“It’s true.”
“You believe Blackburn can set you up? Philip Blackburn is a spineless fool. He has no principles and almost no brains. I told Garvin to fire him years ago. Blackburn is incapable of original thought.”
“Then Meredith.”
“Ah. Meredith. Yes. So beautiful. Such lovely breasts.”
“Max, please.”
“You thought so too, once.”
“That was a long time ago,” Sanders said.
Dorfman smiled. “Times have changed?” he said, with heavy irony.
“What does that mean?”
“You are looking pale, Thomas.”
“I can’t figure anything out. I’m scared.”
“Oh, you’re scared. A big man like you is scared of this beautiful woman with beautiful breasts.”
“Max—”
“Of course, you are right to be scared. She has done all these many terrible things to you. She has tricked you and manipulated you and abused you, yes?”
“Yes,” Sanders said.
“You have been victimized by her and Garvin.”
“Yes.”
“Then why were you mentioning to me the flower, hmm?”
He frowned. For a moment he didn’t know what Dorfman was talking about. The old man was always so confusing and he liked to be—
“The flower,” Dorfman said irritably, rapping his knuckles on the wheelchair arm. “The stained-glass flower in your apartment. We were speaking of it the other day. Don’t tell me you have forgotten it?”
The truth was that he had, until that moment. Then he remembered the image of the stained-glass flower, the image that had come unbidden to his mind a few days earlier. “You’re right. I forgot.”
“You forgot.” Dorfman’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Max, I did, I—”
He snorted. “You are impossible. I cannot believe you will behave so transparently. You didn