Chapter 16: Hostage—Liam

Confrontation

Liam ran toward where Meredith had disappeared and hands grabbed him from every side.

“Whoa, boyo. Nobody crosses the picket line.”

“I need to follow the woman you just snatched off the street.”

“Who snatched a woman off the street? You must be kidding. Now go off and play with your college friends.”

“Let me ask you a question. What do you think will happen if you shove me back toward the club, say, and I go straight to a phone and call the police?”

“They’d send a car around eventually and we’d tell them the same thing we just told you. What woman?”

“Look at me.” The man stepped back and looked at Liam. Liam wasn’t entirely happy with the way he looked. He moaned aloud when he discovered his jeans had been pressed. He wore a white polo shirt and had a sweater over his shoulders and tied at his neck. “Now, look at yourself and your fellows here. Who do you think the police will believe? Do you really think I’m just another college kid?”

“Look now, you won’t be telling the cops nothing.” They grabbed at him and a painful blow landed on his shoulder. His shirt was pulled out of his jeans and he lost the sweater somewhere.

“Listen! Do you really want to do this out here in public? Everyone will see you beating a college kid and even if the cops don’t believe the story of the girl, they’ll believe all those people about the beating.” The thugs looked out toward the street. Two couples were standing next to Erich and Liam saw half a dozen others turn around from the bar. “Would you just take me to wherever you took her? Then we can have a nice civilized conversation. There’s no reason for this bullying.” Liam turned toward the people who were gathered. He looked directly at Erich. “You won’t try anything with these guys if I go willingly with them to where they took the young woman, will you?” Erich clenched his fists but nodded his head. No doubt he’d called the others as he tried to catch Liam. But the guy was seventy years old and Liam didn’t want him trying to be a bodyguard. Liam was solider than his small stature would make him appear.

“Take him to see Peters, then.” The main speaker pointed to two guys who took Liam by the arms and marched him away as the rest of the strikers closed the gap behind them.

An argument was in progress and Liam could see Meredith being held in much the same way he was.

“Why the hell did you do this?”

“You said we needed some leverage to bring them to the table. Well, she’s leverage. We have a hostage and they’ll bargain or else.”

“Or else what?” The leader turned and saw Liam. “Another? What are you guys thinking. Someone get out there and make sure they know no more!”

“If I may ask you a question, sir?”

“Ha! Sir? I’m an unemployed shoe laster. Something you will never need to get your fingers dirty at.” The fellow took a deep breath and let it out. “What’s your question?”

“Was the purpose of kidnapping a woman off the street so that you would have leverage to get the company to the bargaining table?”

“Yeah. It was a stupid move but we don’t have any more options.”

“Uh, look at her. She won’t work.”

“What? Why?”

“She’s way too pretty. Imagine yourself sitting at home watching the news and they put her picture up next to a picture of the picket line out there. Is she going to get you any sympathy that would cause the people to pressure the company to bargain with you? I don’t think so. People would be clamoring for the police to get in there and rescue her. And believe me, none of us want that. Someone would get hurt.”

“I said this was a bad idea. Guys...”

“Not necessarily a bad idea, just poorly executed.”

“What the ... what are you talking about?”

“Well, think about those same people watching the news and they see a spoiled rich boy who will never have to work a day in his life being held by desperate workers. Who do you think would have their sympathy then?”

“You mean you. Why would people know or care about you? Being pretty seems like a better strategy.”

“I am William Thomas Cyning, heir to Regina Cyning.”

“Oh shit!”

“I am volunteering to be your hostage and to keep the police from acting irresponsibly if you will let this young woman go.”

“How would you achieve this?”

“Miss, when you are released, please call Buxton House and ask for Erich Heinz. Tell him what you saw and ask to speak to Regina. Please deliver the message that I have asked that the police not be involved. We simply need the owners or managers of Covington Shoe Company to come to the bargaining table in earnest. I will remain with these people until they do. Will you do that?”

“Yes, L ... Yes, sir. I will take that message.”

“There. You have my word. You have my body as your bond. Will that suffice to pressure the company to the table?”

“Christ. It just might. The merchants would all be ready to do whatever was necessary to help a royal. And you, girl? What are you?”

“I am just a servant, sir. It is a humble class but we have the advantage of being allowed almost everywhere and having the ear of the people we serve.” The leader stood up straighter and looked at the closest circle of workers.

“You two! Let go of the young woman’s arms. Act like gentlemen and escort her out of the grounds so she can continue her evening. You will carry the message?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He waved at his men and they escorted Meredith from the circle as she kept looking back at Liam. “Now, you. Sit down here. Let him go. We have the word of a royal that he will be our hostage. You don’t have to keep his arms. Sorry about the dust-up out there. We’ve no intention of hurting you. I don’t know whose bright idea this was but it all arose from the idea that we need leverage to bring them to the table. Mr. Cyning, our withheld labor seems to be an inadequate motivator. They won’t even discuss our demands.”

“Please. May I know your name?”

“Randy Peters. When I sent the letter to the management, they fired me. When I was cleaning out my locker, all these people followed me. I never wanted to lead a strike.”

“Yet it appears you are a respected leader. Please, during our association here, call me Liam. I ask for no titles or honorifics if I may call you Randy.”

“You’re an okay guy, Liam. Not at all what we’ve always been told the upper crust is.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m young. Don’t let them off too easily. May I see the letter that lists your demands?” Liam politely waited while Randy retrieved a copy of the letter from a barrel that had apparently been used as his desk. He dragged a chair along with him and sat facing Liam.

“Here you go. I can explain anything if you don’t understand it. We’re not college-educated, you know.” Liam scanned through the rather brief letter. It was neatly typed. It had a few unusual terms used but he could find nothing offensive about it.

“Okay. I see. This is some serious stuff. You did a nice job of typing it up.”

“My wife. She’s a secretary and we have our own typewriter. She sometimes brings home work when she needs to watch the kids.”

“She should be highly prized. May we go through the list of ... ah ... your ‘requisitions’ as you put it? This first one. Twenty-five cents an hour increase in pay across the board.”

“We got a nickel an hour increase at Christmas last year and they told us nothing was coming this year. A nickel an hour! What are we going to do with the extra two dollars a week!”

“Mmm. I see. What will you do with an extra ten dollars a week?”

“Ten dollars will put one more meal on the table.”

“Five days of paid medical absence each year?”

“Yes, sir. You see a lot of people can’t afford to miss work, even if they are sick. So, they use their week of vacation if they are sick. We think we shouldn’t go without pay another week if the illness is severe.”

“You mean people come to work when they are sick?”

“Molly Amstel,” one of the men nearby said. Randy nodded.

“Molly was a fine worker. She got sick last year. Doctor told her she needed time to recover. After her vacation ran out, she was right back at her cutting machine. She died three weeks later and left three children behind with no one to care for them. She worked herself to death.”

“Dare I ask, what happened to her children?”

“All adopted, but not all in the same family. Who can afford to add three mouths at once? But they’re in the same school. They see each other every day.”

Liam bit his lip in order to keep from blurting out his anger. It would do no good to become emotionally involved. He needed cold rational arguments. He continued down the list, discussing each point with Randy. A few points seemed frivolous at first. New chairs and tables for the breakroom? Then Liam found the rickety chair he was sitting on that had twice threatened collapse had come from the breakroom. A pair of shoes each year? Randy explained that while they all worked in a shoe factory, none of them could afford the shoes they made. Everyone bought a cheap competitor’s shoes. And so it went. Liam was exhausted and glanced at his watch. It was past midnight.

“I’m afraid I’m exhausted and can’t comprehend any more, my friend. Can we get some sleep and start on this again in the morning? I’d very much like to help you.”

“You’d help us? More than by bringing them to the table?”

“Have you ever been in a bargaining room, Randy?”

“No. We’ve never bargained before.”

“Then let me help. This is what I’ve been educated and trained for. Now where do we sleep?” Liam looked around and saw a few people lying on the ground around fires made of wooden pallets in drums.

“Uh ... Sorry. There are ten thousand of us on strike. The street frontage is only two hundred yards. That means we have about three hundred people on the picket line at once. There’s no room for any more. So, most are home in their beds at least a couple of days between their shifts.”

“This takes an incredible amount of organization. Who worked out the details?”

“My wife and me, mostly. She’s behind us all the way and a great encouragement to me. Some of the folks out there don’t have that kind of support at home. Husbands or wives are complaining to their spouses to go back to work. We’re all feeling the lack of a paycheck, even in families that have two paychecks—which is most.”

“I’ll stretch out over there if I may.”

“If you are sleeping on the ground, so am I.”

“That’s noble of you, Randy. Won’t your wife want you at home?”

“Now that we have a hostage, I’m not letting you out of my sight. No offense. It’s the only way I can make sure no one here messes things up.”

“Sir? Here’s your sweater. Sorry you lost it earlier. Uh ... here.”

Liam looked up at the speaker, one of his original escorts.

“Let us forget the past, my friend. Thank you.”

What Is a Win?

Liam woke up stiff and a bit cold. Someone had tossed a jacket over him during the night and he didn’t know who to thank for it. As late as he had worked the night before, he was still up before sunrise. Lacking an estate to run on, he satisfied himself with stretching and running in place for nearly an hour. He hadn’t thought that through very well. He was smelly and damp and had no place to shower. Well, with luck everyone else would smell just as bad.

“Why do you do that?” Randy asked.

“I’m afraid my real life is spent sitting at a desk and studying. I need to exercise my body in order to keep from bloating like a whale. It’s good for the circulation, too.” Liam realized the second problem he had this morning. He was hungry now and there was no cook to cater to him. It seemed Randy had the same realization. He went to his ‘desk’ and pulled out his lunchbox.

“Sally, my wife, brought a lunch box for us this morning. Let’s eat.” He opened the box between them and pulled out a sandwich. He broke it in half and gave part to Liam. His wife had obviously not brought him enough to share but Liam took it gratefully.

“What is this?” One big bite of the coarse bread and meat spread was a new—and not entirely unpleasant—experience.

“Liverwurst. Doesn’t take much to fuel a man for a day’s work. And don’t worry, she packed us another one for lunch.”

“Randy, I’ve been thinking about your demands all night. While they don’t sound unrealistic when I read just your letter and listen to your explanations, I need to find out what the company can really afford and what it can’t. For example, it would do no good to increase the company’s expenses by ten percent if it meant ten percent of the workforce would be laid off.”

“Do you think that’s a possibility? The guys would never put up with that! To think that a better life for us meant one out of ten of our coworkers were cut off? Impossible!”

“That’s the point. I don’t know if it is impossible or not. I need the details of the company’s annual report. Can you get one?”

“I don’t even know what that is. How would I know if I could get one?”

“It’s a report the company sends each year to the people who own stock in it.”

“I still don’t know where I’d get one. None of us own stock.” Liam filed that bit of information in the back of his mind.

“I think I know where I could get one, but I would need to use a phone. Is there one near here that I could get to?” He looked back at the factory building. Randy shook his head.

“Closest I suppose is in the Rat Cellar over there. I tell you, the owner of that bar ... Well, he should have been a merchant instead of a tradesman. He’s been good to us, though. He brings the leftovers from the night before to us. He should be here soon. I’ll ask if we can get you to a phone.”

“I’ll need to be closely escorted by workers. Maybe a dozen of them. It mustn’t look like I’m wandering around on my own.”

“Ah. Clever. I’ll send out a call. We’ll stretch the picket line all the way to his door.”

“Liam! What’s your status, son? I could get a swat team down there in an hour but your grandmother has forbidden it.”

“I am well and am being treated as well as anyone on the picket line, Father. I knew you would be concerned, so I insisted they let me make a call to you to let you know I’m okay.”

“It was a foolish thing to offer yourself in trade for Meredith. They might have kept you both and then where would we be?”

“I understand I took a risk, Father, but I had little time to think of an alternate solution. They are actually pretty decent folk. The whole hostage thing was a spur of the moment act. They are getting desperate to get the company to the bargaining table. As foolish as it sounds, they thought having a hostage would hurry the company to the table. Of course, once they were committed, they couldn’t really back down. I’m trying to deescalate things.”

“They should just all go back to work and accept what the company offered in the first place.”

“Do you know what that is, Father? I’ve been given access to the list the workers sent up the chain. There are a few things I think are unreasonable and might be able to talk them out of. Except...”

“Except what, Liam. You have a plan. I can hear it in your voice.”

“I really need to know where the company is coming from. That’s the only way I’ll be able to show them what’s unreasonable. But no one here is a stockholder, so no one has an annual report. You hold stock in Covington Shoes, don’t you? Could you get me a copy of the annual report so I can show them exactly where their reasoning is wrong? Then when the company comes to the bargaining table, it will be much easier to negotiate.”

“What makes you think the company will come to the table. Fergie is convinced that another week without a paycheck will put an end to the strike.”

“Fergie?”

“Yes. You need to pay more attention to the business, Liam. Fergie is the CEO and majority shareholder in Covington Shoes.”

“Well, holding me as a hostage certainly won’t move him to the table then. But ... I haven’t confirmation of this. No one here looks like he or she has missed any meals. I’d have thought they’d be more frayed by this time. You don’t suppose someone ... no one I know, but Covington does have some competitors who aren’t entirely ethical ... what if someone were subsidizing the strike in order to drive Covington into a loss position. I’d hate to see that, wouldn’t you?”

“There are certainly people like that, Liam. But you think they are being subsidized?”

“Can’t say for sure. I’ll keep digging for information. Can you get me the report?”

“I’ll send it with Erich. I need to talk to Fergie. It’s good that you got on the inside so cleverly, Liam. You’ll be wasted as a royal. You should take a more active part in the business.”

“I’m only sixteen. Surely nothing is set in stone yet.”

“Right. Well, anything else you need?”

“I should speak to Meredith. I’m sure she’s furious. Oh. And Grandmother.”

“You’re in luck. They’re together. I’ll patch you through to Mother’s suite. Take care of yourself, Liam. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Liam! You idiot! They might have hurt you!” Meredith screamed.

“Calmly, dear.” Grandmother was obviously right next to her.

“Please forgive me, madam. And you, too, Liam. I’ve been desperately anxious about you and your Grandmother has been comforting me. I should be about my job. What is it you need, Liam? What can I get for you?”

“Meredith, when you are concerned for my health and well-being, there is nothing to be forgiven. I know this put you under a great strain. How did it go last night?”

“Erich met me outside the picket lines and drove me straight here. In about five minutes, the house was on full alert. I don’t think any of the strikers thought to notify anyone that you were held hostage. Your father immediately called Mr. Ferguson to tell him you were being held. Ferguson wanted to send in the army or something to liberate you but by that time, your grandmother had contacted the police and other locals to inform them of the situation and that under no circumstances were they to attack or even approach the pickets.”

“That was excellent! Grandmother, are you there as well?”

“I am.”

“Do you think the police will not interfere? I don’t want anything to set something off where people get injured.”

“In this matter, my voice will prevail. The next time you do something like this, though, you will have to deal with them yourself.”

“I hope never to do this again.”

“We’ll see. You are a royal after all.”

“I’ve asked Father to send an annual report with Erich. Could you see that he also brings my ski jacket and stocking hat? My jeans and shirt are fine, but it gets cold here at night.”

“Erich is with us and is nodding his head.”

“I’m wondering if you can get us some appropriate news coverage. I’m certain Mr. Ferguson has kept this quiet as I’ve seen no reporters near the picket line. I need some allies. I believe I can resolve this if the company will come to the bargaining table.”

“There is a reporter who would jump at this chance and since she wants a personal interview with me, I think she will treat it favorably. Don’t abuse the favor.”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“Is there anything else, Liam? Anything I can do?” Meredith practically pled with him.

“Mmm, my dear. I don’t suppose you could get a hundred pizzas delivered to the picket line, could you? But it needs to not come from us. We need someone who could be confused as a competitor.”

“Ah! I think I know just the person.”

“Who?”

“It happens there is another royal attending the university.”

“Really?”

“Don’t be too surprised.” Liam could hear his grandmother’s voice and identify her pacing up and down. “That’s an excellent idea. Meredith, if you need any additional credentials, I will provide them.”

“Thank you, madam. Hang in there Liam. We are all working for you.”

“Grandmother. Meredith. The workers here are just in their cause. What I need to do is find a way that Mr. Ferguson wins as well. It can’t simply be that I’m not harmed.”

“Exactly what you have been taught, Liam. This will truly determine if you are royal. Carry on.”

“I love you, Liam.”

“And I love you, Meredith. Well, we all have work to do.” After he hung up, Liam realized his Grandmother was in the room when he and Meredith declared their love.

Erich arrived with the report and Liam’s ski jacket and stocking cap. In addition, he had several bags of apples and carrots. The pickets closed around the car when he told them what he had and shielded a line of people carrying food into the heart of their camp. Erich told them it had come from a friend of a friend. He didn’t speak to Liam but nodded in his employer’s direction.

Liam hurried back to where the fires were burning and sat to read the annual report. What he read was staggering. It was impossible to conceive of a company which made so much money and had workers so poorly cared for. He had very little experience with these things and wondered if other businesses functioned in the same way.

“Randy, there’s a reporter at the front line who says she wants to interview you. Also wants to verify that his royalty is being treated well.” Randy looked up from where he and Liam were studying the report. Davy from the loafer line was pointing back toward the pickets. Randy glanced at Liam and Liam subtly nodded.

“Right. Well, you say she? Is she alone?”

“She has a guy with her who she says is her photographer.”

“Okay. Bring them both back here.” Davy turned and left. “What are we going to do?”

“You, my friend, are going to greet her cordially and be as eloquent as you can be as she asks you questions. The same as you have been with me. I’ve just been getting you ready for this. Whatever happens, it’s important that you not take offense at anything she suggests and that you answer her questions fully. This, and a few photos of how we are subsisting out here will be in the Monday newspaper. Probably front page. Up to this time, you haven’t received the coverage you should have. Tomorrow, everyone will know about why you are picketing the factory.”

“I get a little nervous around people of upper classes.” Randy wiped his hands on his knees.

“You do just fine with me and you’ll find this reporter will be impressed. I dare say, she might suggest that your class be reevaluated. I know I will suggest that when we are through.”

“Here she is, Randy.” The crowd parted and a woman and her young male photographer came into the circle. Liam winced as he recognized the photographer and assumed his grandmother was sending him a message.

“What? Don’t any of you have any manners? No introductions? Did you even ask her name?” All the workers stepped back a step and Randy went directly to the woman. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. We’re not used to seeing people we don’t know back here. I’m Randy Peters. I guess you could say I’m the union leader as that’s the role my fellow-employees have thrust upon me.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peters. I’m Angela Ritter. This novice with me is my new photographer, Lonnie ah ... Ward.” Liam breathed a sigh of relief that his friend had not been identified by the correct last name. Porras was almost as recognizable a name as Cyning. His father was a state representative. He wondered how Lonnie had been roped into this and by whom. Then the woman’s name sank in. Ritter, as in Susan Ritter, Lonnie’s girlfriend.

“We don’t have much in the way of furniture, I’m afraid. Would you care to have a seat on one of our folding chairs? Careful there. It’s a little wobbly.” Angela took the proffered seat, sitting on the edge, possibly not putting any weight on the chair at all. She glanced at Liam but kept her attention focused on Randy.

“Thank you for seeing me. I’m a reporter and have deadlines to meet, so if you don’t mind, can we get directly started?”

Randy nodded to her. “We know a bit about working under time constraints. Please go right ahead.”

“We’ve not seen a strike in our city in many years. Can you tell me what inspired it?” Randy told about having sent a letter on behalf of the employees to the management and that he had been fired. When he cleared out his locker to leave, all the other employees had followed him. “You must have quite a leadership talent to convince them of that.”

“Please, ma’am. I’m just a shoe-laster from the labor class. We’ve been told all our lives that we have no leadership ability.”

“Really? What are the demands that you presented to the management which they found so heinous they would fire you?”

“It’s a simple list, ma’am. We find we are falling behind the economy in our wages. We simply want to increase our wages to a living level. Second, we need time off when we are sick. We lost a beloved co-worker last year who literally worked herself to death because she couldn’t afford to not work while she was sick. We believe certain items in the plant have suffered from lack of maintenance. This involves not only chairs for the breakroom, like the one you are carefully sitting on now, but also manufacturing equipment on which safety mechanisms have been broken or disabled. Wouldn’t you think a company would want to take care of its own equipment? And finally, we would like a free pair of shoes each year. We make these shoes and we are proud of the workmanship and quality. But none of us can afford to buy a pair of the shoes we make. We end up purchasing inferior shoes made by our competitors. Don’t you think that would be good for the company?”

“You are asking some excellent questions. Let’s delve a little deeper into each of these and into the company’s response.” Angela was an expert at interviewing and Liam was thankful he’d briefed Randy so fully. But the union leader was handling himself naturally. Like Angela, Liam believed he was in a much different class than he’d been given.

“Anything I can do for you?” Lonnie whispered after he’d worked himself nearer to Liam without appearing to pay attention to him. He raised the camera and clicked another picture of Randy.

“I’m glad to see you. As it happens, it looks like I’m going to need a lawyer.”

“Have you committed a crime?”

“No. Nothing like that. This needs to be a contract lawyer who will work pro bono on behalf of the union to write and/or check any employment contract that is proposed.”

“You don’t as for much, do you? Geez!” Lonnie looked to make sure his reaction hadn’t been noticed by anyone else. Angela was intent on Randy as he explained how much wage increases had been and what they were told about this year’s lack of an increase. “If I pull that off, you’re going to owe me big time.”

“You pull this off and I’ll forgive you for the lousy advice about Meredith you gave me.” Both boys choked back a laugh and Lonnie went to a different position.

“Now I really need one last thing Mr. Peters. May I see and speak to Mr. Cyning to ensure our readers that he has not been harmed?”

“Of course, Mrs. Ritter. He’s been sitting just behind you all this time. Mr. Cyning, would you be kind enough to answer a question from Mrs. Ritter?”

“Certainly.” Liam stood and approached Mrs. Ritter as she and Randy both stood.

“This seems to be a pretty mess you’ve gotten into. Have you been treated well here?”

“I believe my treatment is not worse and probably no better than the way everyone who walks the picket line is treated. I can’t ask for better than that, can I?”

“And where do you sleep at night?”

“Over there. The workers build fires in the drums you see at night. It’s getting pretty cold out and the workers need to take breaks from walking the line to get warm and sometimes to sleep a bit.”

“Where is your bed?”

“Would it be proper of me to ask for a bed when everyone around me sleeps on the ground? My jacket is probably warmer than theirs.”

Just at that time there was a commotion and Davy came back.

“Randy, there’s a pizza delivery truck here. He says he has a hundred pizzas for us.”

“What? Who ordered that?”

“No one! It says it comes with compliments from David Winzar of Richmond, Virginia’s House Winzar. I think that means he’s a royal.”

“Mr. Cyning? What is the meaning of this? Are royals banding together to help in this strike?” Angela demanded.

“I’ve never met this person,” Liam said, not needing to feign surprise. Then a thought struck him. “Wait. I’ve been reading the company’s annual report. Fascinating reading by the way.” He picked up the report and began leafing through the pages. “Hmm. Here it is. According to the annual report, Covington Shoe Company faces vigorous competition from three companies. Look. One of them is Dominion Footwear of Richmond, Virginia.” He tapped the report as if in victory.

“Why would a royal from the area of Dominion Footwear be sending support to the strikers of ... Ah! I see.”

“It might only be a gesture of goodwill. We should make some calls to find out if a similar situation has occurred there and he is hoping we resolve this one in like manner.” Or my brilliant personal assistant might have contacted him and sold him on the idea of helping out another royal.