JR (19 page)

—They're stuck with all these here lousy baskets they made which nobody wants to buy them, so who wants their stock?

—Yes, well, something like that would cause the price of the stock to decline wouldn't it, and the old law…

—So this old law of supply and decline with all these baskets happens with their stock too so what's the difference? Like everybody's buying

it and selling it which they all want to get rid of it at once so like how does anybody know how much it's worth? Like we saw all these guys tearing up all this paper all over the floor which nobody knew what they were doing, so like now we buy this stock of Diamond Cable with our money so what if there's all this here cable nobody wants like nobody that didn't buy all those baskets so it just ends up all these guys are running around tearing up paper all over the floor like where does that leave us?

—Hold on now, hold on. First, you're not going to get stung with Diamond Cable, you can take my word for it. Second, every one of those guys out on the Stock Exchange floor knows what he's doing, he knows to the penny where the stocks he handles stand. And third, stock prices don't just fly out of control because a lot of those guys, as you call them, those men out on the floor of the Exchange, a lot of them are what are called specialists…

—Sorry there… Crawley held the door wide for Mrs Joubert before he strode in to pause at eye level with a bighorn and match profiles. — Well, boys and, you little … ladies and gentlemen, getting right down to business, eh? That's what brings us all together, eh? Business, Dave why don't you just sit right down over there. That's what brings people together, eh? Now then … He came crowding the blotter where Davi- doff's hands untangled ducking the reach for a button, —Shirley… ?

—Better have her check on that photographer…

—Shirley? Where's that Diamond Cable certificate? These young people are here on business, let's not waste their time.

—I'll bring it right in sir, her boxed voice blurted at the fist doubled on the blotter.

—Yes the, time is money, isn't it. I guess you've, we've all heard that haven't we … hands opening and grasping closed on nothing he

glanced up and sought refuge from one blank face in the next till he found Mrs Joubert's —maybe the ahm, your little people have some questions while we're waiting … ? he drummed off the blotter's limits.

—I think they'd like to hear what you…

—Did you kill all these animals yourself Mister Crowley?

—Crawley…

—That tv on your desk is it color tv?

—This, this is called a Quotron. Just by pressing a button or two I can ask it for the latest information on any stock, number of shares traded, latest bid and asked prices…

—Is that you in that picture up there with that dead horse you just shot?

—Horse? horse? That's a, a hunter's hartebeest, got it in Kenya there's its head right over there, yes. Now then…

—What are futures?

—Futures? Crawley reared his chin toward the dim recess of dark leather.

—Here where it says the effect on nickel futures of the new government cobalt stockpile requirements which…

—What are you reading there!

—Nothing just, just this here let …

—Mister Beaton returning your call sir, the box blurted as Davidoff rounded the turn with the papers scooped from the low table in the corner to drop them on the desk blotter blinding the oval of burnished gold at Crawley's cuff with a burst of sapphire, confiding —better let me have a word with him, Monty wants…

—Beaton? Crawley here, what's… the what… ? No still got one certificate down here, this last option he picked up it's… that's right … he paced a step away from the desk, two steps back as though chained there before the eyes fixed on him from all directions as his own rose to the door panel abruptly jarring the dismal black on gray pattern backed against it, breaking out with an arm reaching the scrimshaw handed through. —That's right just call it a bund trust, better than going in there with this public disclosure drag things out for a month and … probably will yes I'll send it up… and he got the phone down before Davidoff's lurched —Monty wants… could reach it.

—Now then, you've got your certificate all we need is the…

—Excuse me Mister Crawley perhaps they'd all like to hear what it says before we…

—Sure it says, holy, it says two hundred ninety-three thousand shares it says this is to certify that the Emily Cates Moncrieff Founda…

—Here give me that!

—Give me that!

Davidoff rounded one end of the desk, Crawley the other sweeping open the door as he caught the certificate in mid-air, —Shirley!…

—But holy…

—The telephone's lighting up hey…

—Hello? Davidoff here … He does? He did … ? It is? Tell him I'm on my way, he hung up taking both hands to jam the Italian knit constriction at his throat still tighter, —brush fire, the boss wants me to get right up there I'd better take one of the cars, I think you can all fit into the other two they'll be waiting downstairs, I'll have everything on deck when you get there. Oh and Shirl…

Crawley got the door closed with his back against it. —Here's our certificate, now do any of you little, you young people know what it's worth?

A hand going up caught him in the ribs as he crossed the room. — The closing price of it was twenty-four dollars and sixty-three cents each.

—Twenty-four sixty-three, he muttered with a pencil, —plus the twelve and a half cents odd-lot differential…

—The what?

—The, stocks are usually bought and sold in round lots, a hundred shares. When we deal in less than that we call it an odd lot and there's a little price differential yes, plus the broker's commission…

—How much do you get?

—We'll make it one percent, eh? Plus four cents…

—Mister Crawley, this might be an opportunity to show the boys and girls how your Quotron works, you might just push Diamond and see what's happening to it?

—Mphh…

—Holy, two hundred eighty thousand that's dollars?

—No no that's, number of shares traded so far today yes quite a, quite an active issue.

—What's that minus sign two and an eighth.

—Yes, off two and an eighth points, isn't it.

—Dollars?

—Well yes in a, in a manner of speaking…

—So now it's only twenty-two fifty and a half cents so we saved two dollars and twelve and a half…

—And who are you? said Crawley looking up abruptly as the door cracked slowly. —If you're here to clean the typewriters they're out there.

—I'm a, I'm the photographer are you Mister Davidoff?

—My God no. Come in, over there.

—But I was told that a Mister Davidoff…

—Come in if you're coming and hurry up. Now then. Three, six, ten. Nine. That's twenty-two ninety…

—That four cents, what was that four cents?

—What four cents.

—When you added in four cents.

—Four cents? Tax. Stock transfer tax.

—Oh. Hey Mrs Joubert how come he …

—Let's not worry about it now boys and girls. You … she motioned

to the slight figure strung with cameras, —if you'll just get this, Mister Crawley? If you would just stand holding out the certificate to, yes that boy there and, yes, the money, get the money on the desk in …

—Like that… Good … Once more. All right. Now just once more looking this way, once more…

—Get off that table!

—Yes sir.

—I'm sure we have enough thank you, we've taken enough of Mister Crawley's valuable time and, here, this way. Don't forget our stock certificate and, no just leave the money there. I don't think we have any more questions, do we … ?

—Did you shoot that there pig Mister Crowley?

—Pig? That's wild hog. A mean customer, wild hog.

—Would he hurt you?

—Hurt you? He killed three fine dogs.

—So that's why you shot him?

—No, hunting. Hunt them with lances that's right, right out that way

… he came on, herding them along, —A mean customer … as the cropped head cupped in his hand turned sharply and he pulled back as though bitten.

—What kind of gun have you got?

—Gun? Got twenty of them. Here, keep with the others … what's that you've got there.

—Nothing just, I just wondered if I could take a pamphlet or something, came from behind him —like this thing Capital Gains and Losses, and this…

—Take it. Take it.

—Mister Crawley he's taking…

—stock guide, and this stock commission calculator…

—Take it, take them just come along… !

—Five, six, seven, Mrs Joubert counted at the elevator.

—What kind of a gun did you kill that thing with those horns with?

—Mannlicher here, look out there! Get off that desk… !

—Yes sir, I just wanted one more picture of… oh! I'm sorry, I'll pick it up …

—Just leave it! leave it! don't, hold things up …

—There goes a nickel.

—ten, eleven…

—A penny went back of that chair back there hey…

—Now are we all, J R? Come along you've got quite enough…

—This could I just have this too it says Investment Barometer…

—Take it along, take it… Crawley breathed heavily, blocking them packed in the small elevator and paused, as though to be certain the doors would close on them before turning with —get this money picked up in there, Shirley. And count it while you're at it… bending for the dime gone under her chair as the doors closed on his tweed seat expanse, —should be twenty-two dollars and ninety cents…

They plummeted.

—I think I just need some air, said Mrs Joubert, and drew her fingertips across her forehead.

—Where we going now.

—Did we eat yet?

—Out this way everyone, into those two cars there.

—The big black ones?

—Why, do you see a red one dopey?

—Who's that guy saluting to.

—That's a chauffeur what do you think it is, that's because we're an owner now right Mrs Joubert?

—Look out. Sit on somebody else, will you?

—Where we going to eat?

—Boy hey look back there, that guy lying in that doorway? He didn't have any hands, did you see him?

—Boy did you see his face?

—He didn't have any either hey what's that, a radio? Turn it.

—It's a cigarette lighter, dopey.

—Push it.

—Where we going now.

—All right now, let's just try to sit quietly and act a little more like…

—But Mrs Joubert he's taking up the whole seat with all those papers and stuff how's anybody supposed to sit anyplace…

—Let's try to act a little more like grownup shareowners in a large corporation … She gathered her lap from the cascade threatening from the knees beside her —until we… get there… and she stared out of the window.

—Get where.

She stared out of the window until they got there.

—Hey look they beat us, they're here already.

A piece of newspaper came blown ankle high along the curb and clung. —Six, seven… her pointing finger trembled, she kicked the bit of newspaper away, —eight…

—But that says Typhon International Building the company our stock is is …

—Just go in, go in! It's the right place, hurry.

—More elevators.

—We'll find our company on the fifteenth floor boys and girls. Push fifteen, someone… ?

—Lemme push it.

—Hey listen. That music, hear that music? Where's it coming from. Listen.

—What are we stopping for.

The doors opened silently. No one went and no one came. Nothing moved but notes of Dardanella. The doors closed.

—Can I stay on the elevator and listen to the music awhile Mrs Joubert?

—Here we are, now try to act…

—Hey look they beat us, they're here already.

—Hey did you have music in your elevator too?

—And look hey, here comes that same little guy again.

Shooting rights and lefts as though fighting his way through a horde to receive them Davidoff burst upon the elevator bank putting on his jacket, closing the generous bills of his collar with the mean knot of the tie in a sweep of opening a door where there was none. —Your new bosses … his gesture ended in a fling toward a girl packed in yellow coming up behind, his expression in a wink —boys and girls, one of our topflight secretaries. Oh and Carol… he stopped short piling them up on his abrupt authority, —tell Mister Eigen I need him in the board room immediately and Carol, bring in a dozen copies of the Annual Report, I told Eigen to put a little kit together for these youngsters … he poised long enough to keep her off balance, and then —this way,

he stepped out with a rewarding report each time a heel hit the hard floor, mounting the corridor to the door opened off it just short of where blue carpeting began, and they piled up at shore's edge to crane for a glimpse of —my office in here … composition seated chairs vacantly attending the eater-cornered command of a paper-littered metal desk —oh and Florence, get a mailroom boy into the board room to run that projector, and those box lunches…

—Yes sir. I'm looking for the…

—And where's Mister Eigen? I need him in the board room.

—He's working on the new draft of Mister Moncrieff's speech Mister Davidoff, he needs that corrected third draft…

—Check. If the fire bell rings I'll be in the board room, right through here everybody … he turned and, in a single stride, dropped his stature into the blue that swallowed his course in silence toward the walnut bulwark ahead where he touched the metal doorknob and quaked, — not scared of a little static electricity … ? he dipped and crested, swung the door, and they came through bobbing, streaming, running downwind in the seaway stretched before them where, dead ahead, beating his course close-hauled, hat turned up all round, white handkerchief puffed next to the hearing aid made fast to the leach of light gray flannel, the immaculate specter approaching eased off abruptly to make the walnut piling on a beam reach, luff unsteadily, and begin to gather sternway.

—Oh here Governor, here… Davidoff veered full throttle cutting across vagaries of wind and sail and the dictates of labored metaphor, threatening capsize on all hands —our new, some of our new shareowners sir they've, this is Governor Cates boys and girls, he's a director of the company. They've just bought a share of company stock, sir.