Till the Butchers Cut Him Down by Marcia Muller Read Free Book Online Page A

thing. And the challenge of being
     part of that thing. But you go into it aware that you have to draw lines.”
    “Such as?”
    “Take the relationship between T.J. and me: He knows I’m tops at what I do. He knows he can count on my total commitment and
     loyalty. I know I can count on the same from him. I know he’ll keep his promises. But that doesn’t mean we’re friends. It
     doesn’t even mean we like each other. We don’t do lunch; I don’t invite him to my home. It’s business, plain and simple, and
     it wouldn’t work otherwise.”
    In a cold, practical way, that made sense. “Okay, you’ve mentioned one thing that makes him an original. What’re the others?”
    “The major one is vision. T.J. sees possibilities that you or I wouldn’t even dream of. He can look at a disaster area like
     the Hunters Point base and visualize a rebirth of the Port of San Francisco. Initially his concepts may seem skewed, but in
     the end he makes them work.”
    A voice from the door said, “Often by force of his own pigheadedness.”
    I looked over there at a stocky, round-faced man with a mop of black hair. “Nice kudos to T.J., Carole,” he added, “but it
     won’t earn you any additional perks unless he’s hiding under the desk.”
    “Ah, Russ.” There was an edge to Lattimer’s greeting and little warmth as she performed the introductions. Russ Zola, she
     explained, was Suits’s organizational strategist and had been with him “forever.”
    Zola turned the straight-backed chair around and straddled it, his forearms resting on the crosspiece. Diamond-studded links
     winked from the cuffs of his white shirt, and a diamond-and-onyx ring gleamed on his right hand. “What’re you trying to do,
     Carole?” he asked easily. “Make me out to be older than God?”
    Lattimer didn’t reply.
    I asked, “What does an organizational strategist do, specifically?”
    “I look at the overall structure of the corporation, decide what can be changed to facilitate efficiency. I make recommendations,
     help implement them, monitor progress, make constant adjustments.”
    “In short,” Lattimer said, “Russ is T.J.’s executioner.”
    “Thank you, Carole. Such a dramatic job description.” He smiled at me and changed the subject. “So you’re the investigator
     who’s going to save T.J. from the alleged assassin.”
    “Russ.” Lattimer’s voice held a warning note.
    “What—we’re supposed to pretend we don’t know why she’s here?”
    “I believe that’s a confidential matter between T.J. and Ms. McCone.” Now her tone was markedly chilly. “When you came in,
     we were discussing what makes T.J. unique as a turnaround pro. We talked about his lack of specialization and, as you heard,
     his vision. Since you’ve been with him so long, I’m sure you have something to add to that.”
    Zola rolled his eyes, obviously amused at her stiff manner. The subject to which she’d attempted to redirect the conversation
     seemed to interest him, though; he considered before speaking, his expression thoughtful. “The speed of T.J.’s turnarounds
     is pretty damned impressive. The average pro will do four or five in a lifetime. T.J.’s been operating for around fourteen
     years now, and he’s already up to half a dozen.”
    I asked, “You’ve worked with him on all of them?”
    “All but the very first.”
    “How does he manage them so quickly?”
    “Advance planning. He does comprehensive research and goes in with a strong game plan. And he pushes everybody mercilessly,
     including himself and those of us on his team. He’s brutal to the few employees who survive the bloodbath. He’s a whiz at
     getting answers out of the banks and creditors, is even better at getting action out of his investors. To tell you the truth,
     I’ve seen no evidence that he’s ever slept.”
    Zola paused again, dark eyes reflective. “Of course, there’s a downside to all that. T.J.’s easily bored. Once he’s got