Chapter 4 - THE PARKER REPORT
Walter wanted to call the old matter a mistake.
Dana would not let him.
“Not yet.”
she said.
They had records.
They had memories.
Those were not the same thing.
The 2005 Parker report concerned a client called Northstar Pension Group.
Bennett Alder was managing a large distressed-debt mandate.
A competitor made trades that strongly suggested advance knowledge of two positions Bennett Alder planned to unwind.
No client names appeared in the press.
But Northstar threatened to pull nearly nine hundred million dollars.
The firm investigated.
Daniel Parker had:
Downloaded exposure reports.
Printed restricted position sheets.
Connected a personal laptop to a work terminal.
Emailed himself a spreadsheet after midnight.
Bad facts.
Ethan stared.
“My father did that?”
Walter nodded.
“He said he was working from home.”
“Was that allowed?”
“No.”
“Then why wasn't he just fired for that?”
“He could have been.”
“Instead you told everyone he leaked.”
Walter's face tightened.
“We did not publicly accuse him of selling information.”
“You let people believe it.”
“Yes.”
That was harder.
Richard was brought into the room with his attorney present.
He no longer looked like the man who had torn off Ethan's badge.
He looked like someone walking into his father's funeral again.
Dana placed the old report on the table.
“Mr. Hayes, did your father ever discuss Daniel Parker with you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“Why?”
Richard looked at Ethan.
Then away.
“Because I was working here.”
Ethan frowned.
“You were twenty-four.”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
“Analyst rotation.”
Walter looked at Richard.
He knew that much.
He did not know what came next.
Richard said:
“I used Daniel's workstation that night.”
Silence.
Walter leaned forward.
“What?”
Richard looked at him.
“My laptop crashed before a morning presentation. I used an empty desk.”
“Daniel's.”
“Yes.”
“Did Thomas know?”
“Later.”
Dana asked:
“What did you access?”
Richard answered too quickly.
“Public comps.”
Ethan heard it.
So did Dana.
“Only public material?”
“Yes.”
“Did you print anything?”
“Probably.”
“What?”
“I don't remember.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“You remember enough to recognize my name twenty years later.”
Richard's attorney started to object.
Richard raised one hand.
He looked at Ethan.
“My father spent the last decade of his life talking about Parker like the investigation had ruined him too.”
Ethan stared.
“Your father kept his job.”
“Yes.”
“Mine didn't.”
“I know.”
“Mine couldn't get hired at another Boston firm.”
“I know.”
“Mine died driving airport shuttles.”
Walter closed his eyes.
Richard looked away.
Then Dana produced Daniel Parker's written appeal.
Four pages.
Page three contained one line:
I was not the only person on my terminal. Richard Hayes used it at approximately 10:43 p.m. Ask him what he printed.
Walter stared.
“I never saw this.”
Richard's face changed.
Dana said:
“The official appeal packet in company archives is three pages.”
Silence.
Ethan looked at Walter.
“You approved the termination without this.”
“I approved it based on the report provided.”
“That isn't what I said.”
Walter looked at the missing-page notation.
“No.”
Then Dana asked Richard:
“Did your father know Daniel named you?”
Richard said nothing.
His attorney whispered to him.
Richard finally answered.
“Yes.”
Walter's chair moved backward.
“Thomas knew.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before the final report.”
Walter stared at him.
Richard's voice dropped.
“He said it didn't matter.”
May you like
The man Walter trusted to tell him who had compromised Northstar knew his own son had used Daniel Parker's terminal—
and decided that detail did not belong in the version Walter received.
