17

ROSA SANTOS WAS USUALLY among the first people to arrive at the Walters, Cassidy & Breen office each day. Her official hours were from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., but invariably she stepped off the elevator each morning about twenty minutes early. Soon she was busy preparing the first of many thermoses of coffee that were consumed each day by the lawyers, paralegals and clerical staff of the firm. During the day she also checked to see that the kitchens and snack areas on each of the three floors were clean and that there were enough cans of soda and cartons of milk in the refrigerators.

Each morning Santos taped a sheet of paper to one of the cabinets in the kitchen on the thirty-first floor. As the day progressed, she learned from Mary Talbot, the receptionist, which conference rooms were reserved by lawyers for the following day and how many people would attend each meeting. She noted the locations and numbers on the sheet so she’d be certain to have sufficient coffee and muffins waiting for the conferees when they arrived.

Santos saw that there would be four people meeting in the private conference room adjacent to Doug Fiore’s office at 8:15, and decided to check on the condition of the room. As she headed in that direction, she heard an unusual sound coming from behind the closed door of Frank Scardino’s office. She stopped to listen. A few seconds later the noise was repeated several times. Standing there, she realized that what she was hearing were the intermittent sighs and moans of a woman having sex. It was coming from the right side of the room, where she knew Scardino’s sofa was located. Rosa smiled, but continued on toward Fiore’s office when she heard the muffled sound of Scardino’s voice.

At five minutes after eight, Santos again walked from the kitchen to Fiore’s office. She was pushing a small cart on which was placed everything needed for the meeting. As she passed through the reception area and into the corridor where Fiore was located, Scardino emerged from his office, a short distance ahead of her, followed by Janice Rossman. They turned in the opposite direction, proceeded to the end of the corridor and turned left. At 9:30 Santos was able to take her first break. She removed her white apron and went over to the reception desk where Mary Talbot was busy fielding incoming telephone calls.

Talbot had a well-deserved reputation for being both difficult to get along with and very demanding. Booking conference rooms was part of her jurisdiction, and she regulated it with an iron hand. Rosa saw her bully young associates on several occasions. She drove them out of a conference room where they were working if protocol wasn’t followed and the room reserved with her ahead of time. Talbot didn’t concern herself with the fact that the attorney needed a large table on which to spread out a raft of papers or that no one else was signed up to use the room at the time. Incredibly, her victims tolerated such conduct without questioning it.

Santos figured that Talbot was probably about fifty-five years old, perhaps ten or twelve years her senior. She knew Talbot was employed by the firm for almost twenty years, all of it as a receptionist, and that she always had to be aware of everything going on within the confines of Walters, Cassidy & Breen. Santos learned early on that Talbot had no problem reprimanding her if she mixed up one of her assignments. But she felt that her job security was enhanced to the extent that she could pass on any interesting tidbits of information, especially those considered scandalous.

Santos rested her left elbow on the high wooden counter that enclosed the reception desk in the form of a horseshoe. She looked around to be sure no one else was close enough to overhear the conversation. “Mr. Scardino had girlfriend with him this morning,” she said.

“Where?” Mary asked.

“In his office. I went by not yet eight o’clock. I think …”

A call came in and Talbot put up a finger, indicating that Rosa shouldn’t say anything until she answered it. One call followed another for several minutes. As soon as the switchboard was silent, she asked, “Was the door open?”

“No, no, the door closed.” Rosa shook her head from side to side.

“Did you see her?”

“Not that time. I just listen.”

“You were eavesdropping?”

Santos knew what the word meant. “No, no, they say nothing. I hear them making love when I go by.”

Talbot stared at her, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth. The switchboard began to light up again, but she ignored it. “You heard them?”

“Yes, I hear her, you know.” Rosa smiled and arched her eyebrows. “She make lot of noise … ow, ow, ow.”

“Do you know who it was?” Talbot finally raised her finger again, before Santos could reply, and took care of business. When she looked up, Rosa told her of seeing Scardino and Janice Rossman come out of the room a short while later.

“This place is really getting to be something,” Talbot said, shaking her head. The sarcasm was as heavy as she could make it. “Don’t tell anyone else.”

“Oh no, no one else,” Rosa hurried to answer. “I tell only you.”

Talbot opened the notebook she used to log in room reservations and moved her finger partway down the page. “That conference in Room 9 at two o’clock has been cancelled. There’s a box of Danish pastry in the refrigerator upstairs that they were going to have. Leave one with me—I’ll eat it on my break—and take the rest home.”

Santos understood that the immediate reward, though small, was an indication of the value of the information she delivered.

As soon as Rosa left the area and returned to work, Talbot dialed Helen Barone’s exchange. Barone’s employment at the firm began exactly one month after her own, and the two were always close friends. Helen was promoted to the office manager position five years earlier, and Scardino was now her immediate boss. “Come down when you have a chance, or meet me at break at 10:30,” Talbot said. “I’ve got some news that may give you something to think about.”