Free Forgive Me by Joshua Corin Page A

Bug and—

Chapter 12
    But enough about the past. The past was useless. Ross had a speech to give. A eulogy. Seventy-five immaculately dressed millionaires had flown across the continent to hear from a man they knew only from the business section of
Forbes
and instead they would meet Ross Berman, who had never read
Forbes
in his life and in fact held certain prejudices against people who did, whose entire wardrobe and eyeglasses and haircut were purchased at the Walmart down the block from his 550-square-foot studio apartment.
    Still, hadn’t it been his idea to have all profits from the annual conference fund his charity? So what if it had been a cover just to get his buddy Phillip in the right place at the right time to satisfy the Serenity Group? He was, in many ways, responsible for this gathering of capitalist thugs. His name was in the program.
    Ross checked his waist. Was his shirt tucked in his belt like it had been this morning? No. Good. How about his tie? Was the knot tight? Not especially, but it wasn’t the baby’s fist it had been when he’d first tied it. Were all his shirt buttons buttoned? Yes. Were his shoes tied? No. He bent down. Now were his shoes tied? Yes.
    “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said with clearer confidence. The restroom echoed his remarks among the several thousand tiles.
    He headed out to the ballroom. The seventy-five millionaires were nearing the end of their main course. Servers flitted from table to table like hornets. The luncheon’s master of ceremonies, quirky stand-up comedienne ingénue Ashlee Katz, was seated near the front. Ross could have just as easily followed the sound of raucous laughter. Ashlee also was one of the few other people in the room who knew that the guest of honor was not merely running late. As Ross approached her table, he nodded as subtly as he could. She got the message, excused herself, and made her way to the dais. Ross waited by the steps while she took to the podium and its attached mike.
    “Hello again!”
    The conversation in the ballroom lowered to a murmur.
    She then proceeded to crack a few jokes about the food. The crowd laughed. Ross shifted uncomfortably. For Christ’s sake, he was about to announce a man’s death!
    “Anyway, folks, it’s my honor now to welcome to the stage the administrative director of Atlantans Helping Atlantans, Mr. Ross Berman!”
    Applause, applause. As if he were going up to accept an Oscar.
    He gripped the podium for steadiness.
    “Ladies and gentlemen…ladies and gentlemen, Phillip Wilkerson was my best friend. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve been alive…as long as he’s been alive…Phillip was my best friend—he was always Phillip, by the way, never Phil, not even in kindergarten…he had to correct our teacher the first few times…he was always Phillip, and we couldn’t have been more different, but we were best friends, and…and this morning, very early this morning, I got a phone call from the police. They needed me to identify his body—”
    At this, the room popped with gasps, which was fortunate for Ross because he needed a moment to regain his composure.
    “You see, there was an altercation in the hotel, in his room, and he was killed. But I know how much this conference meant to him. And how much his presence here meant to all of you. His presence meant so much that when he insisted his best friend be allowed to use this opportunity to promote his local charity, Atlantans Helping Atlantans, the conference organizers didn’t even hesitate. Last night, we were in here, rehearsing, and Phillip had his speech fed into the teleprompters, although the truth of the matter is that he had it memorized. He was a man who prepared, you see…in his speech, he tells you that is one of the reasons that he’s succeeded…this conference meant a lot to him, this speech meant a lot to him, and so I’m going to read it now. Can you please turn on the teleprompters?”
    While Ross waited for the