Джон Макдональд - Half-Past Eternity

“I don’t see any particular excuse for any new method,” Banth said.

Tomlinson gave him a surprised look. “But this is a research group! There is always a reason for research, Banth.”

Sam looked down at his big fists for a moment. He looked up quickly. “I would like the privilege, as a large stockholder, to countersign all checks issued by the Tomlinson Research Foundation, and approve all orders for materials.”

“I was told I would have a free hand.”

“To milk Champions, Inc., of every dime, eh?” Banth said. “Not so fast, doc. Not quite so fast. Maybe it was agreed, but it can be put to a vote.” He looked meaningfully at Linda. “So let’s vote on it, doc. My forty-nine percent votes that one Sam Banth be dealt into your financial picture.”

“And my forty-one percent,” said Tomlinson “is, of course, against such a change in our picture. Really, you disappoint me, Banth.”

Both men looked at Linda. She had turned a bit pale. She looked quickly at Sam and then, more shyly, at her father. “Some compromise, maybe,” she said weakly.

“Vote, baby,” Sam said.

She gave him a look of anger. “Don’t try to tell me what to do! I’ll vote with my father. Against you.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Then he grinned. “Good girl. I like a good loyal girl. You win, doc. But let’s have a gentleman’s agreement. Let’s turn over the same amount this month and you see if you can hang onto some of it.”

“That will suit me,” Tomlinson said quietly.

“That should wind up the foundation,” Prader said. “Now, Mr. Banth. How did your enterprise function? Financial report first, of course.”

“Our cut of the wages of all eleven employed graduates came to seventy-eight hundred. That end is chicken feed so far. Eventually it’ll be the big end of the stick. Income from wagers amounted to one hundred nine thousand, three hundred and five.”

Prader whistled involuntarily. Tomlinson’s eyebrows went up.

“Now think it out for a minute,” Banth said. “This month was the end of the gravy train on wagers. The boys are on guard now. I’m going to have to bet through dummies. The bets will have to be smaller. At the beginning of month there was eight thousand two hundred in the kitty, after turning over the thirty-seven five to the foundation. That, plus income, equals one hundred twenty-five thousand, three hundred and five. Another thirty-seven five to the foundation leaves eighty-seven, eight oh five. Expenses were fourteen two. Reserve for taxes twenty, leaving fifty-three, six oh five. I suggest a twenty buck dividend on each of the thousand outstanding shares. It will take us down to thirty-three, six oh five, enough to cover operating expenses for the coming month. Eighty-two hundred bucks for the doctor, ninety-eight hundred for me and two thousand for Linda. Shall we vote? Hands up? Done,

“Now for the progress report. As I said before we have eleven ‘graduates’. There are twelve in training and we ought to have four of those out bringing in income by the end of the month and an additional six or seven lined up. The twelve consist of three boxers in three different weight divisions, a professional magician whose hand wasn’t quicker than the eye, a pro miler — his income will be peanuts but the side bets might be all right on a four-minute mile, one golfer whose trouble was not enough distance on the drives, a baseball pitcher who had lost his fast stuff, a team of three circus acrobats, and two pro footballers who were about through.

“Every one of them and also our ‘graduates’ understand that if they do any talking we can flood their particular speciality with graduates and put them right back where they started. We’ve kept the press from finding out anything. Sooner or later they’ll suspect and track it down, of course. Then we’ll have to throw up some smoke screens. As to future plans, I want to go down to Mexico and grab a couple of bullfighters. Headliners in that trade make thousands for an afternoon’s work and reflexes are pretty important. Collections and accounting may be a problem, but I think we can handle it all right. I have — some experience in making collections.”

Prader organized the minutes into proper form. The dividend checks were drawn up and distributed. Salaries were given an upward boost.

The meeting broke up and Tomlinson went back to his research in the labs.

Sam and Linda walked slowly down toward the farmhouse. She held the folded check in her hand.

“You’re the girl who wanted to be smothered with money,” he said, giving her a crooked smile.

“Two thousand isn’t going to smother me, Sam.”

“There’s a lot more in the picture.”

“How do you mean that?”

“Take those two payments to the foundation. They total seventy-five thousand. Ten percent of that is seventy-five hundred, plus what you’ve got in your hand would make your take for two months total ninety-five hundred.”

She stopped. He turned and faced her. “What are you trying to tell me, Sam? What are you trying to get across? The whole agreement was made because you showed dad how it would help his work. If you cut off all funds—”

“Let’s not get sentimental, Linda honey.”

“I’m being practical. He treats the people you bring here. If he didn’t get the agreed money, he might stop treatments, and then where would you be?”

Sam scuffed the ground with his toe. “Have you taken a look at the kids he hired? Have you seen that one named Howard Dineen? Have you seen him looking at you?”

She flushed. “I guess I have.”

“He’s a big dumb-looking towhead and his red ears stick out but the doc says he’s the keenest one in the group. And if you told Dineen to jump up in the air and land on his head, he’d knock himself out.”

“Sam, darling, you’re — frightening me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know why. I was just showing you that if we’re smart and if your old man should decide to walk out on the deal, Dineen could be made to go along with us. You’d just have to smile at him every Tuesday. That’s all.”

“Why would dad walk out?”

“If you should vote with me a few times, honey, he might get sore. But that would be a shame because he’d walk out with forty-one percent of the stock and forty-one percent of the profits. You’d inherit. I suppose. Eventually.”

“Don’t talk like that!” she whispered. “Don’t!”

He gave an elaborate shrug. “Now why act like that? I didn’t say a word. I was just thinking that if you ever did inherit we could keep Dineen working for peanuts. You’d take fifty-one percent each month of the total. Our target is one hundred ‘graduates.’ After we get to that point, we won’t treat any more of them. Some will make a lot, some won’t make much. They will average a gross of twelve thousand a year. And we’ll average forty percent of that. Call it an even half million a year. And little Linda would he getting a quarter million a year, all her very own before Uncle Sugar’s cut. I’m just thinking out loud. Would that smother you?”

She laughed nervously. “It might bring on shortness of breath.”

“He’s an old guy. What is he? Close to seventy?”

“Don’t, Sam. Don’t!”

“You act like I might be trying to talk you into something, kid.”

“Sam! Are you?”

He shut the kitchen door behind them, swung her around and backed her against the closed door. His mouth was an inch from hers. He said softly, “How do I know whether I’m talking you into anything? Can you be talked into anything?”

“I’m frightened, Sam. Scared green. Hear my heart. It’s pounding.”

He took a small box out of his pocket, opened it with his thumbnail. The stone was a living and perfect green. “Remember that dream I tried to sell you? Will you buy it?”