Road Rules Online

Chapter 3

“You’re not at the warehouse,” said Myron Blake into his cell.  “You dumped that poor girl here so you could go play golf.”

“Prove it,” said Mason.  In the background, someone whacked a golf ball with a loud whoosh and a metallic smack.  “By the time Aston gets over to the warehouse, I’ll have already been there and gone.”

“You sonofabitch.  Are you trying to get me fired?”

“Now why would I do that, Mikey-boy?”

“Because you hate my guts for dunking your head in the toilet back in high school.”

“Jesus, Mike.  Is that what this phone call’s about?  I’ve moved on.  You should, too.”  Someone on Mason’s end called his name.  “Gotta go.  My turn to tee up.  See you at work, assuming you still have a job.”

“Fuck you.”  Blake hung up.

The call made the perfect capper to a lousy afternoon.  Before Blake called Mason, he and Aston had spent over an hour talking to Estevez, the uniforms on scene, the guards who’d driven the Chest to St. Jakob’s, and the priests of the shrine.  Aston had taken Hagemeyer and left Blake alone in the sanctuary, where he was now.  Only when he snapped his cell phone shut hard did he notice Aston and Bishop Gallagher up on the altar talking, both men staring gravely at the empty shipping crate.  Gallagher looked up at Blake, then Aston, who nodded at the bishop.  The two men shook hands, and the bishop disappeared through the back entrance.  Aston came down and strode toward Blake.

“Mike, can I have a word with you?”

Here it comes, he thought.  He debated telling Aston about Mason’s golf game going on at the moment.  He even thought about having Aston call him.  It would never work, though, and Blake knew it.  Mason would have all the angles covered.  Even if Aston left now, Mason could probably be at the warehouse before anyone suspected a thing.  What was that red-headed freak up to?

Besides destroying Blake’s career.

“Sir?” said Blake as Aston reached him.  His worst fears were confirmed as Aston put his arm around him.

“Mike, I know you’ve worked hard on this,” said Aston.  “You’ve always given Walden a hundred percent.”  He turned, moving Mike along with him, to gesture at the altar and the empty shipping crate still sitting to the left of the lecturn.  “But this is bad.  The company is taking a black eye in publicity, and if we don’t find that Chest, we’re out five million.”

“I understand, sir,” said Blake.

“The security arrangements were a complete disaster.”

What? Blake replayed that what Aston just said over and over in his mind quickly.  The security arrangements?  Why, those were planned by… “I understand, sir.  But Tim Mason assured me…”

“…That all these firms were reputable.  Yes, yes, I read your report.  The fact is that Chest never should have left Brink’s custody until it arrived here this morning.  Taking it away from them to store in some warehouse in Brook Park was just…  I don’t know.  I’ve always assumed Mason knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m sure he does, sir.  That’s why I signed off on the security assessment.”

“That’s right, Mike.  You signed off on it.”

Blake’s stomach dropped.  Wait a minute.  Weren’t we blaming Tim Mason for this fiasco? “Sir?”

Aston took a deep breath and gave Blake’s shoulder a squeeze.  “Look, Mike, under normal circumstances, I’d have brought up two of my next best claims guys and fired Mason on the spot.  But he’s out there now working the problem.  And he did get Hagemeyer up here as soon as he knew there was a problem.”

“It’s his fault there’s a problem.”  Blake realized too late his tone was a bit sharp.

“I understand, Mike.  But I have to look at the big picture.  We look bad, and our reinsurers, reinsurers you deal with, I might add, are going to use this to gouge us for higher rates on the risk we’ve assigned them.”

“But, sir…”

“And let’s be honest, Mike.  You haven’t run a ratio under a hundred in six months.  Since the divorce, we simply haven’t seen that solid underwriting discipline we used to expect from you consistently.”

“But Mason is…”

Aston put up his hand.  “Mason is no longer your problem.  Mike, someone’s got to take the fall for this.  And you signed off on that security assessment.”

Blake opened his mouth, but his voice had siezed.

“I’m sorry,” said Aston.  “I’m going to have to let you go.”

Blake wanted to scream.