Джон Макдональд - A Key to the Suite

“Jesse is in need.”

“In another way, of course. But when can you let me know for sure?”

“Before four o’clock this afternoon. Will that be okay?”

“That will be fine, Freddy dear. But this business about a favor for dear old Jesse has nothing to do with... your little token of gratitude for setting it up.”

“You know I wouldn’t try to short you, Alma.”

“I think you might try, but it wouldn’t work. I should warn you, dear, the whole thing might work out a little high.”

“A lot of little things can get buried in a convention tab.”

“If you tell me it’s a deal, we’ll set it up over the phone where Cory should meet you for the briefing. Okay?”

“That would seem to do it, Alma. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I’m glad you did, really. You know, I ought to feel a little angry with you, Freddy. I haven’t heard from you in ever so long. Way last Christmas, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. I remember. It’s this way, Alma. There was this merger, over a year ago, and things have got pretty tightened up. They put in these damn control systems, and it clamps down on me, so I don’t get the chance to operate like in the old days. I mean it would have to come out of my pocket, and that sort of slows me down. Even that deal last Christmas, I could only swindle half the tab, so it was a calculated risk.”

“But weren’t they darling girls?”

“They sure were.”

“Weren’t the men some kind of politicians?”

“A special purchasing commission from Alabama. The deal was to get the low bid thrown out so we’d be the ones to get it.”

“And you did?”

“Sure enough, Alma. So I got the rest of the fee back out of my override, and it worked out. But I don’t think it’s ever going to get back to the way it was back in the good old days when Jesse was down here in my job and I was working for him.”

“It’s the way everybody is cracking down on expense accounts, Freddy, and believe me, it’s put the bind on my business. I’m down to about a third, honestly. Those were the good old days, I guess. Remember when Jesse had that special sign made up for me? For my desk? Technical Consultant — Sales Staff — American General Machine — Southeast District. I’ve still got it around here someplace. You know, aside from the laughs, I’m awful damn grateful to Jesse on another count. In fifty-one, it was, he started me in buying AGM. Before that all I ever bought was government bonds. For three years I bought AGM, and then it started to look as if I had holes in my head. Honest to God, Freddy, two years ago it dropped like a rocket. I called Jesse long distance about it a half dozen times. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“He kept telling me to hang on, and thank God I did. That merger thing made me fat. I got three shares of GAE for every two of AGM, and you know where the hell that has gone to in the last year.”

“I know, I know. Speaking of GAE, that’s where this Hubbard came over from, the one maybe Cory will get to meet. Actually now we’re the AGM division of GAE, Inc.”

“Anyhow, tell Jesse I’m grateful. Give him my new number, Freddy dear, and tell him to give me a ring while he’s in town. Maybe he could come over here for a drink. Will Connie be with him?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Where is this deal?”

“The Sultana.”

“So it’s a ten-minute cab ride. He could slip out. How are things with you, Freddy? How’s Bert?”

“Well, not so good. It’s a change of life thing, I guess, but she doesn’t want to admit it. She’s always been a nervous woman anyhow. Anyway, the kids are doing good. Kit’s getting good marks in Gainsville, and the Marines just sent Tommy to a special school, some kind of radar thing.”

“You get Bert onto some hormones, Freddy, and you’ll see one hell of a change in her.”

“There better be a change before she drives me nuts.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give Cory a special briefing on this and tell her that it means a lot to me personally if she does a good job.”

“I’d appreciate that a lot, Alma.”

“She’s got a college degree.”

“That could be a help in a deal like this. There’s more than just Jesse involved. He was the one hired me. We’ve been close ever since. Maybe I’ve done a little too much bitching about all the contol systems they’ve stuck in. I guess I wouldn’t have done so much bitching if I’d realized they might get rid of Jesse.”

“Why would they want to?”

“Maybe he’s too old timey, Alma. Hell, I don’t know. He could sell sun glasses in a coal mine, but he couldn’t write up a ten-page analysis of how anybody else should go about it, and he doesn’t know a market survey from a bagel.”

“Isn’t a convention a crazy place to come to to fire a man?”

“They don’t do it that way. He wouldn’t be fired here. We got tipped off they’d been evaluating him in every other aspect of his job, and this is the last part of it left, how he handles himself in this kind of a deal, how much good he does AGM. Hubbard is one of the guys they got doing those evaluations. They’re a cold-fish operation. They’ve weeded out the other divisions, and now they’ve got around to sales, promotion and advertising. What they don’t understand, there was never anything wrong with AGM sales. When we slipped, it was on account of they fell behind on the design and research, so the other outfits had better products on the market. We’re damn near caught up already.”

“Somebody at the door, dear. You phone me a yes or no, okay?”

“Okay, Alma. And thanks a lot.”

He hung up and went up into the main lobby. The convention registration desk had been set up. COLUDA and NAPATAN delegates had begun to arrive. Their baggage had begun to clutter the lobby, awaiting the rooms being vacated by the delegates of the convention which had just terminated. The cashiers were busy checking out the APETOD people. There was a worn, weary, rueful flavor about the APETOD people checking out which was in sharp contrast with the holiday anticipation of the groups of men who stood near the convention registration tables. Fred Frick, moving toward the table, had to stop a half dozen times to shake hands with friends employed by other outfits in the industry, most of whom he hadn’t seen since the last regional convention.

He went to the NAPATAN table where a rather briskly officious young lady said, “Welcome to the seventeenth annual convention of NAPATAN, Mr....?”

“Frick. Fred Frick, American General Machine.”

She quickly extracted a card from her index. A slip of cardboard was stapled to the card. She tore it off at the perforation, deftly inserted it behind the transparent plastic of a lapel button. “Here, sir, is your badge. This is your convention program. This is your book of tickets which should be presented at all lunches, dinners and official cocktail parties. You will find one ticket for each event in your book.” She looked at the card again. “There are fourteen in your group?”

“Yes. Ten in the hotel and four local.”

“I see the whole group is prepaid, sir, except for the registration fee itself. That will be ten dollars. Do you wish to pick up the badges and programs and booklets for your entire group right now?”

“Thanks. I’ll have someone else do that a little later, Miss. Uh... on second thought, I’ll get the things for Mr. Hubbard now. Floyd Hubbard.”

He paid her twenty dollars and walked diagonally across the lobby to the hotel registration desk. There he acquired an envelope. He put Hubbard’s materials in the envelope, hesitated, then scrawled across the front of it, “Welcome aboard!!!! Fred Frick.” He had the envelope placed in the rack for 847.