simplest thing imaginable. If someone were closing in on these vice presidents, and one of the three was going to be replaced by either your wife or Al Ulrich, the obvious choice would seem to be Lou Durocher. I’m amazed that this gentleman ever got as far as he has. You’d think a successful employer like Tom Adams would have long since dismissed Durocher-or at least shunted him aside. I would think Mr. Adams would simply welcome this opportunity to dump dead weight.”
Groggins touched napkin to lips. “You hit paydirt with your observation on why a guy like Durocher ever became a vice president. See, Adams likes to think of himself as having a love affair with God. ‘The Man Who Loves God.’ And he takes the Bible very seriously.
“That’s the answer to the question of how Lou Durocher got to be vice president in charge of mortgage lending. Nobody can really figure it out. But it’s got to have something to do with the Bible. If you asked Adams, he’d probably come up with some verse to justify putting a virtual incompetent in such a vital position.”
The priest pondered that for a moment. “He wouldn’t have to look any further than Jesus Himself. Tom Adams might well have thought of the twelve men Jesus picked to be His closest friends, the Apostles. Not one of them was qualified for the job. Most of them were simply fishermen-including the one who would eventually be their leader. One was a despised tax collector. One turned out to be a traitor. But Jesus picked ’em.”
“You figure Adams thinks he’s Jesus.”
The priest smiled broadly. “I only just met the man. But I don’t for a minute believe he thinks he’s Jesus. Maybe Mr. Adams thinks that Durocher will play over his head if the boss shows some confidence in his ability. The Apostles came to mind because that’s ultimately what they did: played way over their heads.”
“Yeah.” Groggins pushed himself away from the table. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, that’s why this whole business is a crapshoot. If later on, Al or Nancy is up for a promotion to executive vice president, what happens if Adams hasn’t finished his experiment with Durocher? Then one of the other two finds his head on. the block. And then what happens?”
The priest shrugged. “You tell me. It’s like a bomb waiting to explode.”
“You betcha!”
The meal wound down. Host and guests milled about. One by one and two by two, the guests approached Tom Adams to congratulate him and admire the award plaque.
Father Tully waited for the others to finish paying their respects to their host. After all, the priest had presented the award and, in his presentation speech, had congratulated Adams; there was no point in doing it again. When his turn inevitably came; Tully would bid his host a heartfelt but simple farewell.
Meanwhile, the priest mulled over all that Joel Groggins had told him during their oddly uninterrupted conversation.
If he hadn’t done so already, very shortly Adams would select a manager for the special branch that in a day or so would become a reality.
Probably that manager would be Nancy Groggins. Before the dinner, Adams had told Father Tully that she was his personal favorite for the position. Adams had asked the priest for his opinion. After briefly meeting with both candidates and after all Jack Groggins had said, the priest could not disagree with Adams’s choice.
Apparently, that meant that eventually, Nancy Groggins would be up for another advancement. And that was spelled executive vice president. Which meant that one of the three present executive vice presidents would be seeking other employment.
Odds were that the one to be axed would be Lou Durocher, who was named to his present status because … well, who knew? Because Adams was trying to follow Scripture in very tangible ways? Because some pop psych cult somehow influenced the move?
In any case, there was practical doubt that the seemingly obvious move would be made.
That meant that one of two very capable employees would be bumped.
How would Jack Fradet react if he turned out to be the sacrificial lamb?
After Tom Adams, Fradet knew the status of the bank better than probably anyone else. What sort of damage would he likely do? Could he do? Father Tully had a gut feeling that the possessor of such intimate and comprehensive knowledge could cause serious, maybe fatal, damage. And to be dismissed from his position while the obvious weak link went blithely on playing hob with mortgage and lending would guarantee an angry and bitter former executive VP.
And if the bumpee turned out to be Marty Whitston?
Father Tully recalled Joel Groggins’s response to this possibility. Tully had supposed that Whitston would be “crushed.” Whereas Groggins had reversed the verb’s voice to predict that Whitston would be the one doing the crushing.
Were Tom Adams to let Lou Durocher go, the CEO would have to admit that his grand experiment in human motivation had failed.
Should he dismiss either Whitston or Fradet, Adams would expose his bank to its possible destruction.
There was no real winner in such a choice.
But never once did it occur to Father Tully that in this vicious circle lurked the possibility of violence-or even murder.
The players in this drama, at least four of them, were not presently contemplating the new branch or its logical consequences. They were much more absorbed with the notes they’d received this evening.
Of the two threats, one engendered by a new branch bank, the other from Barbara Ulrich, the latter was by far the more imminent.
Noting that no one was presently conversing with the host, Father Tully approached Adams, thanked him for a lovely evening, and affirmed Adams’s choice of manager: Nancy Groggins was sure to do well.
Adams seemed far too preoccupied to more than abstractedly shake hands and bid the priest farewell.
If Adams had any plans for Father Tully during the remainder of the priest’s stay in Detroit, there was no mention of anything of the sort. Nor was there another word said about the choice of manager for the new branch.
Finally, Father Tully realized that he would have to locate his chauffeur on his own or call a cab. Fortunately, the attentive chauffeur found him.
And thus ended an evening filled with unexpected events. It was, as Joel Groggins had implied, a prime time soap opera.
How, Father Tully wondered, would it all end?
Eight
It was a pleasant late afternoon in Detroit.
Waiting for his sister-in-law to pick him up, Father Tully decided a little exercise was in order. Thus, he paced up and down the corner of Jay and Orleans next to St. Joe’s rectory.
After last night’s award-winning confusion, this had been a pleasant and relaxing day.
Tom Adams had not made any contact. Father Tully had expected a call. He thought that once Adams came to terms with whatever had disturbed and distracted him last night, he would have attended to the visitor. Shown him the sights, given him some sense of the history of this place.
Father Tully had not for a moment expected that the CEO himself would be his guide; some nonessential employee would, he knew, be assigned to conduct the tour.
Nothing. Not a word.
The most eventful, occurrence of this day had been trying to get Father Koesler off on his vacation excursion. The way things developed, it fully seemed that Koesler was going to cancel his trip.
He even stayed to concelebrate the noon Mass with Father Tully.
After Mass, Father Tully began carrying Father Koesler’s baggage and incidentals down to the car. Reluctantly, the pastor helped stow his things in the trunk and, at long last, left. As Father Koesler’s car cleared the parking lot, Father Tully and Mary O’Connor waved good-bye.
It had taken Father Tully and Mary no time to hit it off. He had quickly perceived that Mary played the
