The Conference Room

 

The conference room was empty.  The chairs around the table were askew.  Left just as they were when people departed. One glass ashtray sat at each end of the long table, both filled with ashes and butts.  The stench of the lingering cigarettes had not dissipated, and the smell of the dirty carpet wasn’t far behind.   

The chalkboard at the far end looked as if a child had scribbled fragments of equations combined with directions leading nowhere.  This was a room where decisions were made that affected lives and changed histories.  It was a place where voices were raised and sometimes threats blended with the hum of fluorescent lighting.

Marjorie rolled her office cleaning supplies into the room but stopped dead.  Something was off.  Something felt wrong.  A tension was still lingering in the air that told her to back away.  Don’t clean this room tonight, leave it alone.  It was an eerie feeling she’d not experienced before.  As she glanced around the room she noticed the stack of folders in the center of the conference table.  Then at the edge of the stack, she spotted the drops of blood.

Carefully, she rolled her cart back out into the hall, and used a cleaning rag to pull the door closed, hopefully removing her fingerprints in the process.  She thought about calling her supervisor but then checked her watch.  It was already after 10. But she couldn’t just leave it.  She needed to tell someone, but who?  There was no way she was going back in there.

Just then she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket and heard it ring.  She thought it might be her daughter calling from home but looking at the screen she could see it was Mr. Davis calling.  He had never called her before.  She even wondered how he knew this number.

"Hello?"

"Is this Marjorie?"

"Yes."

"Marjorie, this is Mr. Davis.  You can skip the conference room tonight.  Just leave it.  There were sensitive documents left in there - information we can't have getting out.  I'll take care of everything in the morning.  OK, Marjorie?"

"Yes, Mr. Davis.  I'll just leave it closed up. I won't even go in there."