Prologue
The Company was as split as night was day, and functioned like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde but occasionally, the big bosses at the top needed someone to clean the Hyde messes that they created. The only issue with that was none of the men wanted themselves or a fellow man to be, worse case scenario, implicated or killed over a “clean up”. Just after the 1940’s turned to the 1950’s, Mr. Daniel “Bright” Bridgers had an idea to fix the complication. Mr. Bridgers was dubbed “bright” because of his many bright ideas, but more in a sarcastic way. He had presented many an idea to the head honchos of the Company, most of which were scorned or straight up laughed at but this particular one was so terrible it was intriguing.
“Listen, what if instead of a man, it was a woman who did our dirty work?” Bridgers desperately tried to explain to the executives.
“Come on Bright, what could a woman do that would solve our problem? They are made by God to cook, take care of children, and clean” Sean Callistor, the chief boss, said with an exasperation and eye roll.
“Exactly! Clean! What are women best at? Think about it; no one would expect a woman to murder- to be a part of a mafia type buisness. And even if some brilliant cop did figure it out, it wouldn’t be one of the guys taking the fall!” Bridgers was determined to sell this idea.
“Sure Bridgers, that may be true but what happens when she gets caught? What is to stop her from just telling everyone about the dark side of our business.” William McCorte, the right hand man, said. He was always the skeptic and kept the marketing and negotiations clean-cut.
“Imagine a woman coming up to you and saying a respectable business like ours was actually dirty and shady-”
“It is,” McCorte said dryly.
“Okay yes but we have built such a reputation for good trade and great conciliations that no one would believe a man if he said it, let alone a much less intelligent woman.” Bright finished his sentence and crossed his arms. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten to winning them over, he thought.
After a beat passing through the silent meeting room, the clock on the wall ticking the seconds, Callistor finally said: “Okay Bright, you might actually have had a good idea for once. Get a woman for the job by the end of the month- which is in exactly two and a half weeks- and I’ll give you whatever funding and supplies you and her need. If you don’t and this doesn’t pan out, you are going to have to start searching for a new job because frankly, I have about had it with your extravagant plans.”
“Great! Fantastic!” Bridgers jumped out of his chair with a wisp of a smile and excitement in his voice. Looking up at the cold, judging stares he got from Callistor and McCorte as they stood, he slicked back his dark brown hair and straightened his grey suit jacket, and promptly cleared his throat.
“Ahem… yes. Okay. Thank you. I will get her for sure. Don’t worry about it.” He started saying as he walked backward out the door.
As he left, McCorte turned his blue-eyed stare to Callistor’s.
“Why did we hire him to this position in the first place?”
Callistor sighed, turned, and as he was walking away, said “he looked good on paper.”
