08.24.2008 / EP. 33
The Salesman
“I’m a merchant, not an addict,” Milly countered. How did he get my cell number, she wondered. She stepped out of the bath.
“I’ll explain in 20 minutes.”
“I’m busy,” Milly replied. She planned a quiet evening. Fred had moved out. The house was hers alone and she was determined to enjoy it. She didn’t crave company. Rather the reverse: she needed time to let her mind wander aimlessly with her peaceful companions in the dolls’ room.
Lin hung up. Another man incapable of finishing a conversation, Milly thought, there must be a language virus linked to gender. Is Lin coming here? She pressed call-back on her cell; the number was blocked. He doesn’t let women initiate conversations. This elevates the concept of control freak to new heights.
Milly slipped into freshly ironed jeans and a beige roll-neck sweater. It was bitterly cold in Albany that evening. She was checking her purse when the doorbell rang. Yes, she had her gun and, yes, it was loaded. “My car or yours?” Lin asked. They took Milly’s Porsche.
Milly let the tires complain as she took the corners. She headed to a small French restaurant, which offered a broad assortment of cheeses and deserts. She didn’t want supper and she didn’t consult Lin. He sets the meet, I get my treat, she said to herself.
When they were ensconced in high-back leather chairs, with a large cheese platter before them and plenty of bread and wine, Milly told Lin that he had five minutes to interest her.
“That’s plenty,” Lin said, and began. Part way through, Milly was convinced of his good sense, and from that moment concentrated on nothing except what a handsome rascal he was. She let herself drift, a mind divided against itself. On one side ranged good-looks and rationality, both of which Lin possessed in abundance. On the other, a mental post-note Milly left for herself, a time-bomb set to detonate based on Lin’s motive. What’s he really after, the note read. Everything depended upon the answer, because the man was too handsome to be sincere, and rationality didn’t move her where motive stood in contradiction. Milly trusted her shadow and the lifeless creatures locked in the special room she’d created. Everything else was suspect. Unable to surrender completely and without the consolation of her dolls, Milly found herself on the verge of tears. She longed to believe in Lin, but self-deception wasn’t one of her faults.
She retained a verbatim memory of Lin’s pitch to her that evening. The details bulked large in the events that followed, but at the time she summarized Lin’s message like this: the pharmaceutical industry valued knowledge. To all appearances, Lin was a sales executive. In reality, he scouted information that helped Litton Barr. More importantly, He created conditions that advanced the company’s interests and – if possible – helped other drug companies.
“All the other companies?” Milly roused herself. “That sounds smug.” It wasn’t necessary to call Lin a spy for Litton Barr. He knew what he was. And Milly appreciated Lin’s skill in describing his goal without arousing her disdain. She suspected he was shifting the subject to more sophisticated ground.
“I’d accept ‘pontifical’ instead of ’smug’.”
Milly laughed. “At least you’re not arrogant.”
“I have my moments. But I think, in a small way, I can help the public, you, the Governor, and Litton Barr at the same time.”
Milly cut a slice of Chevrotin and swallowed it on a wedge of baguette. The chevrotin wasn’t quite cool enough, but no matter. This would be fun. Lin, in a few words, gesturing and helping himself to a sample of the harder cheese, proposed that his company make a major contribution to Brull’s campaign. In exchange? There always were hopes, if not actual goals. Lin wanted to contribute to the Governor’s policy committees, in particular on patents, health care, pharmaceuticals, anything that touched these areas. He could add substantial inside knowledge of the industry as well as an international perspective. The Governor’s policies would bristle with attractive motifs for the American voter, and enjoy support from an industry equipped with deep pockets. Litton Barr and other drug companies would donate to the Governor’s campaign. Milly made the inevitable intuitive leap; Lin was positioning himself to leap into a Litton Barr vice-president’s chair then climb the final step of the ladder with another company.
“I don’t control who sits on these committees,” she said. “And don’t assume you’ll have any real influence.”
“Understood, naturally. Your best efforts are good enough. Pipe me aboard a group. I’ll take responsibility for the rest. They’ll love what I have to say. As for you…”
Lin didn’t complete the sentence. He drew Milly’s attention to two men in a corner, who sat stiffly, radiating displeasure and intermittently looking their way. The cause of their annoyance wasn’t clear. Among the shadows, Milly might have seen a third man. “Come with me,” Lin demanded. He stood up and Milly grabbed his arm. This could be a ritual of the male dominance sort or something more sinister. Milly refused to budge for the former and didn’t know whether flight would defer the latter. “Show off some other time. I don’t watch men compete,” she said.
Lin surprised her by laughing. “Think of it as a test,” he recommended. “Before you propose me for the Governor’s advisory panels, shouldn’t you see me in action?”
Milly admitted that would be useful. Lin escorted her to the men’s table.
After introductions and a fresh drinks order, Milly induced the waiter to bring the cheese plate from their old table. As she cut a piece of mature Mimolette to balance the Chevrotin, she took stock of the conversation. The two unhappy men were vice-presidents for competing drug companies. They couldn’t agree on a lobbying strategy to speed up federal approval of a new generation of heart implants. That much was easy. Lin had introduced Milly as a close advisor to the Governor. The men brightened visibly. Milly saw them wonder how influential she was and decide to curry her favour.
Lin suggested that there should be a new medical products category called “last resort”. Milly thought this was brilliant. Anything new appealed to businessmen. The “breakthrough phenomenon” it was called. People being what they are, some oppose an idea and some think it’s great. On another topic, again some oppose and some support. A balance is struck and there it sits. But something new shifts the molten core of the planet and the continents realign. Now and then the whole globe, for unknown reasons, turns upside down. All it takes for this to happen in human affairs is for something “new” to be on the table. The possibilities suddenly enlarge. That’s what Lin did. The vice-presidents were dreaming “touchdown” as he spoke.
Lin outlined the plan. When death is predicted within six months, patients should be able to take drugs and undergo procedures, which are experimental. If successful with these terminal patients, they’d be quickly approved for use by the general public. This fast-track would save companies, without exaggeration, tens of millions of dollars. And the idea would appeal to the large population that was approaching their sixties with trepidation. The idea was bold and reasoned. A candidate for President could recommend it. Milly saw advantages and no drawbacks, she said. Of course, she couldn’t speak for the Governor. Others would have to assess the plan. The vice-presidents understood. They wanted to buy Lin and Milly drinks and become their best friends. Milly had other things to do. For one thing, she had an emergency visit to pay to the washroom. She excused herself.
“Is she going to phone someone?” Milly heard one of the VPs ask the other. Lin shook his head.
Milly was alone in the ladies room. She took care of the emergency and tossed her bloody panties in the garbage along with the small plastic bag that contained her rescue kit. She cursed her body for the hundredth time for its monthly irruption into her careful plans. Not that it really mattered. She stared at herself in the mirror and bright lights. It provided an opportunity to curse herself. Beast, animal, victim of failed pregnancies, she called herself. Milly noticed the black figure that trembled at the edge of the room. She felt a gold coin in her hand and watched her face transform into the semblance of a photograph from an ancient locket. She pinched her upper arm till it bled. She shrugged off her despair. I’m quite the drama queen, she grimaced. Another woman entered the washroom and glanced at her curiously. Milly smiled wanly and gathered her purse. She walked out the door to find Lin whispering conspiratorially with the vice-presidents.
Soon after, Milly and Lin left the restaurant.
“I’ll need background about the Governor to prepare my arguments,” said Lin.
Milly couldn’t deny this was true. It was testimony to her self-control that she didn’t agree or disagree with the request. She’d give Lin the Governor’s press kit and decide later whether to supply more. “For example, what kind of people he trusts, what they have in common,” Lin added.
A guide to persuading the future President, thought Milly. On the other hand, Lin had put on a stellar performance. He controlled conversations without ruffling feathers. He directed people’s thinking invisibly. He could do Milly a power of good if they were allies, if he were really on her side. Unless his performance was designed to slip her guard and penetrate her confidence, Milly frowned. Or his target was Milly’s drug trade and not political influence. The man would bear careful observation. His skills were as much a hazard as an advantage, maybe more. Milly would take care of herself, she decided. She didn’t need Lin.
“One last thing,” Lin broke into her train of thought. They were outside Milly’s house, standing at his car. “I can take out Pam. The question is whether I should. What do you think?”
“Take her out?”
“Remove her from the equation. Let’s not be disingenuous.”
Milly knew what he meant. He was looking right into her eyes with that blank constipated look men get when they want to seem brutal. The ready smile had vanished, the gaze hardened. He wasn’t talking about an evening at the theatre. “I’ll think about it,” Milly said. While her mind shouted, why not? It would remove an enemy and give her leverage against Lin himself. Still, he might have had a similar conversation with Pam a week ago, in which Milly featured as the object of assassination. Milly couldn’t trust him. Lin would be a treacherous foe, she concluded. She would consult the dolls about him. They’d know what to do. Milly smiled at the back of Lin’s car as he drove off.
