ROBBINS Harold - The Carpetbaggers

"We'll find out soon enough." I turned to Dan. "Have you been able to reach Rina yet?"

He shook his head. "I've tried all over. No luck. There's no answer at her home. The studio doesn't know where she is. I even had a contact try Louella but she doesn't know."

"Keep trying," I said. "We've got to find her. I want her to read that script."

"I do, too," Dan said. "She's the only thing holding us up, now I've got the De Mille thing squared away with Paramount."

"Paramount O.K. it?"

"This morning," he said. "I’ve got the wire from Zukor in my pocket."

"Good," I said. This would be the biggest picture ever made and right up De Mille's alley. We were going to shoot it in a new process called Technicolor and it would cost over six million bucks. It was the story of Mary Magdalene and we were going to call it The Sinner .

"Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourselves?" McAllister asked. "What if she doesn't want to do it?"

"She'll do it," I said. "What the hell do you think I want the Norman company for? Their contract with her is the only asset they've got."

"But her contract gives her script approval."

"She'll approve it," I said. She had to. I had the damn thing written especially for her.

When room service came, I swung my feet over the side of the bed and had the waiter set the table right up in front of me. I hadn't realized how hungry I was. I'd already eaten one of the steak sandwiches and drunk half the bottle of milk before the waiter got out the door.

I was in the middle of my second sandwich when the General showed. Dan brought him into the bedroom and I introduced them, then asked them to excuse us.

"Sit down, General," I said when the door closed. "And pour yourself a drink. The bottle of Scotch is on the table."

"No, thanks," the General said tightly, still standing.

I shrugged my shoulders and picked up the third sandwich. I came right to the point. "What's it worth to you if I get Forrester to leave the Army?"

"What makes you think I want that?"

I swallowed a mouthful of sandwich. "Let's not horse around, General. I'm a big boy now and I got eyes. All I want is a fair test for the CA-4. From there on out, it's up to you. There are no other strings attached."

"What makes you think I won't give your plane a fair test now?"

I smiled at him. "And build Forrester up even more in your wife's eyes?"

I could see the tightness leave him. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. The brigadier's star on his shoulder meant nothing. He was just another old man trying to hold a young dame. I felt like telling him to stop knocking himself out. If it wasn't Forrester, it would be some other guy.

"I think I’ll take that drink now."

"Help yourself," I said.

He opened the bottle and poured himself a straight shot. He drank it and sank into the chair opposite me. "My wife's not a bad girl, Mr. Cord," he said half apologetically. "It's just that she's young – and impressionable."

He wasn't fooling me. I wondered whether he was fooling himself. "I understand, General," I said.

"You know how it is with young girls," he continued. "They see only the glamour, the excitement in a uniform. A man like Forrester – well, it's easy enough to understand. The silver wings on his blouse, the D.F.C. and Croix de guerre ."

I nodded silently as I poured myself a cup of black coffee.

"I suppose that was the kind of soldier she thought I was when we were married," he said reflectively. "But it wasn't long before she found out I was nothing but a kind of glorified purchasing agent."

He refilled his glass and looked at me. "Today's Army is a complex machine, Mr. Cord. For every man in the front line, there have to be five or six men behind the lines just to keep him supplied. I always took pride in myself because I took care to see that that man got the best."

"I’m sure of that, General," I said, putting down my coffee cup.

He got to his feet and looked down at me. Maybe it was my imagination, but as he spoke, he seemed to grow taller and straighter. "That was why I came up to talk with you, Mr. Cord," he said with quiet dignity. "Not because you chose to bring my wife into an extraneous matter but to tell you that a test group will be at Roosevelt Field tomorrow morning to check out your airplane. I requested it this morning as soon as I got back into the city. I phoned your Mr. Morrissey but I guess he couldn't reach you."

I looked up at him with surprise. A feeling of shame began to run through me. I should have had brains enough to call Morrissey on my own before I shot off my big mouth.

A faint smile flitted across the General's face. "So you see, Mr. Cord," he said, "you don't have to make any deals with Forrester on my account. If your plane checks out, the Army will buy it."

The door closed behind him and I reached for a cigarette. I leaned back against the headboard of the bed and dragged the smoke deep into my lungs.

The telephone operator at the Chatham found Forrester in the bar. "Jonas Cord," I said. "I'm in the Waldorf Towers down the street. I'd like to talk with you."

"I’d like to talk with you, too," he said. "They're testing your plane in the morning."

"I know. That's what I want to talk to you about."

He was in my apartment in less than ten minutes. His face was flushed and he looked as if he'd spent the whole afternoon wrapping himself around a bottle. "Looks like the old man saw the light," he said.

"That what you really think?" I asked, as he poured himself a drink.

"You can say what you like about him, but Gaddis is a good soldier. He does his job."

"Pour a drink for me," I said.

He picked up another glass and held it toward me. I took it. "I think it's about time you quit playing soldier."

He stared at me. "What have you got in mind?"

"I think that Cord Aircraft is going to be doing a lot of business with the Army from now on," I said. "And I need someone who knows the ropes – the men, what they want in a plane. Make friends for us, contacts. You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean," he said. "Like not seeing Virginia Gaddis any more because it wouldn't look good for the company."

"Something like that," I said quietly.

He threw his drink down his throat. "I don't know whether I’d be any good at it. I've been in the Air Corps ever since I was a kid."

"You never know until you try it," I said. "Besides, you'll do the Air Corps more good out of it than in. There'll be nobody to stop you if you want to try out some of your ideas."

He looked at me. "Speaking of ideas," he asked, "whose was this – yours or Gaddis's?"

"Mine," I said. "I had my mind made up this morning after our little talk in Morrissey's office. And it had nothing to do with whether or not they took the CA-4."

He grinned suddenly. "My mind was made up this morning, too," he said. "I was going to take the job if you offered it to me."

"Where would you like to start?" I asked.

"At the top," he said promptly. "The Army respects nothing but the top man."

"Good enough," I said. It made sense. "You're the new president of Cord Aircraft. How much do you want?"

"You let me pick the job," he said. "I’ll let you name the salary."

"Twenty-five thousand a year and expenses."

He whistled. "You don't have to go that high. That's four times what I’m getting now."

"Just remember that when you come asking for a raise," I said.

We both laughed and drank to it. "There's a few changes on the plane I wanted to talk to you about before the test tomorrow," he said.

Just then, McAllister came into the bedroom. "It's almost six o'clock, Jonas," he said. "How long do you think we can keep them waiting? Dan just spoke to David Woolf. He says Norman is threatening to walk out."