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It was Harry London who raised the key issue Nim had been debating. "Why did the old boy do it? Why did he lie to us the way he did?"

"Probably," Nim said thoughtfully, "because he knew Walter was dead, and because the chance of any of the three of us-the chairman, you, me-knowing about that correspondence was remote. In fact, it must have been obvious that we didn't. Also, the odds on those letters ever surfacing were a million to one against."

London nodded his agreement, then said, “The next question, I reckon, is: How many other times has the Honorable Paul done the same thing and gotten away with it?"

"We'll never know, will we?"

The Property Protection chief motioned to the letters. "Of course, you'll show these to the chairman."

"Yes, this afternoon. I happen to know Mr. Yale is coming in later today."

"Which brings up something else." Harry London's voice was bitter. "Will we go on trying as hard as we have to keep that precious Yale name out of those court proceedings which are coming up? Or, in view of this new information, will 'Mr. Integrity' take his chances like anybody else?"

"I don't know." Nim sighed. "I simply don't know. And, in any case, it won't be my decision."

* * *

The showdown with Mr. Justice Yale occurred shortly after 4 pm in the chairman's office suite.

When Nim arrived, having been summoned by J. Eric Humphrey's secretary, it was obvious that tension already existed. The chairman's expression could best be described, Nim thought, as "wounded old Bostonian." Humphrey's eyes were cold, his mouth tightly set. Paul Yale, while unaware of precisely what was afoot, clearly shared the knowledge that it was something disagreeable and his normal cheerfulness had been replaced by a frown. The two were seated at a table in the conference area and neither man was speaking when Nim joined them.

Nim took the chair on Eric Humphrey's left, facing Mr. Justice Yale. He placed on the table before him the file containing the Talbot-Yale correspondence.

Earlier, Eric Humphrey and Nim, after some debate, had agreed on the sequence of procedure. They also decided that Harry London need not, this time, be included.

"Paul," Humphrey began, "on the previous occasion when the three of us were together, we had a discussion about certain problems of power stealing. In part, they intervened the Yale Family Trust. I'm sure that you remember."

Mr. Justice Yale nodded. "Yes, of course."

"At that time you made a number of statements. All were to the effect that you had no idea, prior to that moment, that such a thing as power theft existed."

"Now stop this!" Paul Yale's face flushed angrily. "I do not like your tone or attitude, Eric. Nor am I here to be questioned about what I may, or may not, have said .

Humphrey's voice cut acidly across the protest. “There is no 'may' about it. What you told us was precise and unambiguous. Moreover, it was repeated several times. I remember it that way. So does Nim."

It was plain to Nim that Paul Yale's mind was working at high speed. The old man said sternly, "Whatever was said, it does not follow from it . . ."

"Nim," the chairman ordered, "show Mr. Yale the contents of our file."

Opening the folder, Nim slid the small pile of letters and attachments across the table. The earliest dated letter-on Supreme Court stationery-was on top.

Paul Yale picked it up, glanced at it, then dropped it hastily. He did not bother with the others. His face, which had been flushed before, suffused an even deeper red.

Afterward, replaying the scene in his mind, Nim guessed that while Yale expected some kind of unfavorable revelation, the possibility of being confronted with his old correspondence had not occurred to him. If Nim's conjecture was true, it would explain the old man's abject, total shock.

His tongue moistened his lips. He seemed unable to find the words he wanted.

Then be said awkwardly, defensively, "Sometimes, especially in Washington. . . with so much happening, so many papers, the unending correspondence. . . one forgets . . ." the statement trailed off. Obviously it sounded as false and unconvincing to Mr. Justice Yale as it did to the other two. Strike that," he said abruptly, and stood up. Pushing back his chair, he walked away from the table and, without looking at Nim or Humphrey, asked, "Please give me a moment to collect my thoughts."

Briefly the old man paced the chairman's broadloom. Then he turned, though continuing to stand.

"It is plain, gentlemen, as only documentary evidence can make it, that I have been guilty of deception and-no doubt deservedly-been caught."

Paul Yale's voice was lower than normal-, his face reflected pain as he continued. "I will not compound my error by explanations or excuses, either by describing my considerable anxiety at the time of our earlier talk, or my urgent and natural desire to protect my good name."

Just the same, Nim thought, you've managed to do both while sayin- that you wouldn't.

I will, however," Yale went on, "swear to you that I neither participated in power theft by the Yale Family Trust, nor had any knowledge of it prior to our first discussion here."

Eric Humphrey, who, Nim remembered, had been eager to accept Paul Yale's word before, remained silent. Probably the chairman was thinking, as was Nim, that anyone who would lie once to protect his reputation would lie again for the same reason.

Inevitably, Nim was reminded of Harry London's question: "How many other times has the Honorable Paul done the same thing and gotten away with it?"

As the silence hung, the pain in the old man's eyes deepened.

"Nim," Eric Humphrey said quietly, "I don't believe it's necessary for you to stay any longer."

With relieif, Nim gathered up the papers on the table and returned them to the file while the other two watched. Taking the file with him, and with no further word spoken, Nim left.

He did not know it then, but it was the last time he would ever meet Mr. Justice Yale.

* * *

Nim never learned what else transpired in the chairman's office that day.

He didn't ask, nor did Eric Humphrey volunteer the information. But the end result was revealed the next morning.

At 11 am Humphrey sent for Nim and Teresa Van Buren. Seated at his desk, and holding a letter, he informed them, "I have received the resignation of justice Paul Sherman Yale as our public spokesman and a director of this company. The resignation has been accepted with regret. I would like an announcement made immediately to that effect."

Van Buren told him, "We should state some reason, Eric."

"Ill health." Humphrey referred to the letter in his band. "Mr. Yale's doctors have advised him that, at his age, the strain of his new duties at GSP & L has proven too -arduous. They have advised him to discontinue them."

"No problem," the PR director said. "I'll have it on the wires this afternoon. I have another question, though."

"Yes?"

"That leaves us without a spokesman for the company. Who takes over?"

For the first time the chairman smiled. "I'm too busy to search for someone else, Tess, so I suppose there's no alternative. Put the saddle back on Nim."

"Hallelujah!" Van Buren said. "You know the way I feel. It should never have been taken off."

* * *

Outside the chairman's office Teresa Van Buren lowered her voice, "Nim, give me the straight dope behind this Yale thing. What went wrong? You know I'll find out sooner or later."

Nim shook his bead. "You heard the chairman, Tess. Failing health."

"You bastard!" she shot at him. "For that, I may not put you on TV until next week."

* * *

Harry London read the published report of Paul Yale's departure and came to Nim the next day.

"If I had any guts," he declared, "I'd resign in disgust at that fiction about ill health and acceptance with regret. It makes all of us liars, just the way he is."

Nim, who had not slept well, said irritably, "So go ahead-resign."

"I can't afford to."

“Then knock off the holier-than-thou crap, Harry. You said yourself there's no way we could prove Mr. Yale was into power theft personally."

London said dourly, "He was, though. The more I think about it, the more I believe it."

"Don't forget," Nim pointed out, "that Ian Norris, who ran the Yale Family Trust, swore he wasn't."