ROBBINS Harold - The Carpetbaggers

He nodded, pleased. "It is modeled after your own plant in California," he said. "But much larger, of course."

"Of course," I agreed, wondering how they got in there. Then I realized it was no secret. Up to now, we'd never got any government work; all we'd built were commercial airlines.

He laughed pleasantly, then turned to move away. A moment later, he came back to me. "By the way," he whispered. "The Fuhrer was very pleased about your co-operation. When may I inform him that we will receive the money?"

I stared at him. "On the day Herr Strassmer walks into my office in New York."

He stared back in surprise. "The Fuhrer won't like this," he said. "I told him you were our friend."

"I'm also Herr Strassmer's friend."

He stared at me for another moment. "Now I don't know what to tell the Fuhrer. He will be very disappointed when he learns we shall not receive the money."

"In that case," I said, "why disappoint him? One Jew more or less can't matter to Germany."

He nodded slowly. "Perhaps that is the best way."

Exactly a month later, the little German engineer walked into my office in New York.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked.

"First, I'm going to join my family in Colorado and rest for a while," he said. "Then I must look for work. I'm no longer a rich man."

I smiled at him. "Come to work for me. I’ll consider the million dollars an advance against your royalties."

When he left the office, I gave Morrissey the O.K. to go ahead on the CA-4. If my hunch was right, there wasn't enough time left for any of us. But it was another story to make the U.S. Army believe that.

I looked across the desk at Forrester.

"I'll get back to town and make a few calls to Washington. I still have a few friends down there," he said. "I'll stop by and talk to the General. Maybe I can persuade him to listen."

"Good," I said. I looked at my watch. It was almost twelve thirty. The stockholders' meeting ought to be over by now. McAllister and Pierce should be back in the hotel with Norman tucked safely away in their back pockets.

"I have a one-o'clock appointment at the Waldorf," I said. "Can I drop you off?"

"Thanks," Forrester said gratefully. "I have a luncheon date that I'd hate to miss."

He came into the Waldorf with me and cut off toward Peacock Alley as I walked over to the elevators. As I stood there waiting, I saw a woman rise to meet him. It was the same one I had seen him with out at the field. I wondered vaguely why she hadn't waited for him out there.

Idly I watched Rico, the maitre d', lead them around the corner to a hidden table. I walked over to the entrance and stood there until he came back.

"Ah, Monsieur Cord." He smiled. "Dining alone?"

"Not dining, Rico," I said, pressing a bill into his ever ready hand. "A question. The lady with Colonel Forrester – who is she?"

Rico smiled knowingly. He kissed his fingers. "Ah, most charmante ," he said. "She is Madame Gaddis, the wife of the General."

I looked around the lobby as I walked back to the elevators. The General should be somewhere around. From what I had seen of his attitude toward Forrester, I figured there had to be more than just Army and airplanes between them.

I spotted him as he crossed the lobby to the men's room next to the nearest bank of elevators. He was scowling and his face was flushed. He looked like a man who needed more relief than he could find where he was going.

I waited until the door swung shut behind him before I walked over to the elevators. For the first time since I’d landed the CA-4 at Roosevelt Field, I began to feel better. Everything was falling into place now.

I wasn't worried any more. The only problem that remained was how many planes the Army would buy.

What I wanted most was to grab a shower and take a nap. I hadn't got to sleep until five o'clock that morning. I dropped my clothes on a chair and walked into the stall shower, turning on the needle spray. I could feel the tightness leave my muscles under the soothing warmth. The telephone rang several times while I was in the shower. I let it ring.

When I came out, I picked up the phone and told the operator I didn't want any calls put through until four o'clock.

"But Mr. McAllister told me to call him the moment you come in," she wailed. "He said it was very important."

"You can get him for me at four o'clock," I said. I put down the phone, dropped on the bed and went to sleep like a baby.

The ring of the telephone woke me. I looked at my wrist watch as I reached for the receiver. It was exactly four o'clock.

It was Mac. "I’ve been trying to get you all afternoon," he said. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping!" he shouted. "We have a board meeting over at the Norman offices. We're due there right now."

"You never told me."

"How in hell could I, when you wouldn't answer your phone?"

"Get General Gaddis for me," I told the operator. "I think he's registered here."

I lit a cigarette while I waited. The receiver crackled in my ear. "General Gaddis speaking."

"General, Jonas Cord here," I said. "I’m in my apartment. Thirty-one fifteen in the Towers. I’d like to talk with you."

The General's voice was cold. "We have nothing to discuss. You're an unconscionably rude young man- "

"It's not my manners I want to discuss, General," I interrupted. "It's your wife."

I heard him sputter through the telephone. "My wife? What's she got to do with our business?"

"A great deal, I believe, General," I said. "We both know whom she met in Peacock Alley today at one o'clock. I can't believe that the War Department would look favorably at a personal animosity being the basis for rejecting the CA-4."

There was a silence over the telephone.

"By the way, General," I asked, "what do you drink?"

"Scotch," he answered automatically.

"Good, I'll have a bottle here, waiting for you. Shall we say in about fifteen minutes?"

I hung up before he could answer and called room service. While I was waiting for an answer, a knock came at the outer door. "Come in," I yelled.

From the bed, I saw Mac and Dan Pierce enter. When they came into the bedroom, Mac's face wore its usual worried look but Dan's was wreathed in smiles. He was on the verge of getting everything he ever wanted.

Room service finally came on. In the background, I could hear the clatter of dishes and suddenly I was hungry. I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I ordered three steak sandwiches, a bottle of milk, a pot of black coffee, a bottle of Scotch, two bottles of bourbon and a double order of French fries. I put down the telephone and looked up at them. "Well, how'd it go?"

"Bernie squealed like a stuck pig." Pierce grinned. "But we had him by the short hairs and he knew it."

"What about his stock?"

"I don't know, Jonas," Mac said. "He wouldn't talk to Dan."

"I spoke to Dave Woolf, though," Dan said quickly. "I told him to get the old man in a selling mood or we'd throw the company into bankruptcy."

"You got the Section Seven Twenty-two ready?" I asked Mac. He knew what I was talking about – a petition to appoint a receiver in bankruptcy.

"In my brief case. Before the meeting this morning, I had a brief discussion with our attorneys here. They feel they could swing a favorable appointment as receiver."

I stared at him. "You don't sound happy about it."

"I’m not," he said. "Norman's a crafty old man. I don't think you'll bluff him that easily. He knows you stand to lose as much as anyone if you bankrupt the company."

"He's a real greedy old bastard, too. And he won't take the chance of losing what he's got just for the satisfaction of keeping me company."

"I hope you're right."