Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors (81 page)

When the group reassembled and empty bladders were beginning to refill with additional cups of coffee, Jo said, “We have prepared a detailed report of our progress and recommendations. You all have copies. I will just hit the high spots and answer any questions you may have."

There was a shuffling of papers as the weary executives prepared to receive the final report on this unusually busy morning.

“As you will note in the preamble, a publishing company is a complex animal. We have listed the various aspects with detailed explanation of each. Specifically, we have identified a distribution chain that will ensure representation to the small bookstores as well as the national chains and wholesalers. In addition to providing color catalogs of our quarterly offerings and dealer order forms, we must agree to pay the company, Book Travelers, a commission of five percent on each copy they sell for us. This figure will be renegotiated after the first nine months of sales are tabulated."

“I don't see any mention of Internet promotion,” Sean Taylor observed. “Dollar Internet Services can provide a homepage on which to showcase your authors and titles. The cost will be minuscule compared to the figures I see on your report."

“Seems kinda stiff to me, too,” grumbled Vic Kimel, the business manager for Dollar Enterprises.

“Mr. Taylor, we will appreciate receiving a proposal and certainly we will want to advertise on the Internet,” Jo said, ignoring Vic. Glancing back at her notes, she continued, “We must establish a distribution center to fill the orders taken by Book Travelers. We have detailed plans for this center and have included the cost in our budget, but we have not as yet selected a physical location."

“That shouldn't be a problem,” Creasy Green commented.

Jo ignored the real estate agent. “Legal matters will be handled by Susan Kimel, and her estimated fees are included in the budget."

“What legal matters?” Tim asked.

“Business licenses, employment contracts, author contracts—things like that,” Susan replied.

Tim nodded.

“We, of course, must let authors and agents know about us,” Jo continued. “There are trade magazines in which we need to advertise and certain reference books in which we need to have listings. The biggest advertising cost will be publicity to the general public for our books. An amount is included in our budget based on the average costs of other publishers. The Holder Advertising Agency has already begun investigating advertising strategy."

Rita Holder nodded agreement.

“There are four office suites remaining in the Dollar Building. Mr. Greene is holding these for us pending approval of our proposed budget."

“Why the hell do you need four suites of offices?” Vic Kimel asked.

“One each for the three editors we need to employ, and one to serve as the general office for the business,” Jo answered. “We have identified three outstanding editors who want to work with us. They are experienced and will bring with them more than a dozen established authors."

“Great gobs of granulated gorilla grunt!” Kimel exclaimed, his eyes glued to the written report. “Do you really think they are worth this much money?"

“If we didn't think so, we would not be recommending their employment,” Jo replied coldly. “Normal costs of doing business are listed in the budget as operating expenses, and salaries for a couple of secretaries and at least one slush pile reader are listed in the section called ‘other salaries.'” Jo paused, expecting someone to ask what a slush pile reader was, but nobody did. “Actual printing and binding will be open to bid. The budget amount is based on average cost for the publication of fifty titles during our first year of operation."

“Where do you think you will find fifty manuscripts worth publishing in such a short period of time?” Sandra asked.

“They're out there, Mrs. Dollar, and we'll find them. In addition to the traditional submissions direct from authors and agents, the Silver Quill Literary Agency has a web site loaded with excellent manuscript excerpts. Finding and working with authors over the World Wide Web is the wave of the future."

Tim nodded. “I like that approach."

Sandra laughed. “You would, you computer nut."

“That's a hell of a big miscellaneous figure you have there,” Vic groused, his eyes focused on the lengthy written report.

“Yes,” she replied. “It is. Are there any questions?"

Sandra shifted uneasily in her seat. “I see no mention of the
Dot Courier
,” she said. “I specifically told you they must be included."

“Both Randy and I have talked with them. They simply do not have the equipment, the personnel or experience to get into the book printing business, and they know it. We will have stationary, business forms and some of the advertising printed by your friends."

“Thank you,” Sandra said. Jo could not tell from the tone of voice if Sandra was satisfied or being sarcastic.

“Before Vic beats me to it, Jo,” Tim said, “I am concerned about the bottom line. Four million dollars seems an excessive amount of money to invest in this project. I'm not going to say that the financial resources of Dollar Enterprises are exhausted, but we're getting close. It also concerns me that your projection does not predict a profit until the fifth year. That's a long time to wait for a return on investment. Can you guarantee a profit within five years or is this just wishful thinking?"

Jo's knees seemed rubbery. She wished she had followed the lead of others and remained seated during her presentation. She felt beads of perspiration pop out on her forehead. Her voice faltered. “No,” she said. “We feel our revenue projections are conservative, and we think that our expense projection may be a little inflated, but if we don't publish books that sell in an ever-changing market, there will never be a profit. That's why it's so important to employ top notch editors."

“Boss,” Vic Kimel said. “The projections are outrageous. I say we need to nip this thing in the bud—cut our losses before they become crippling."

“What do you say, Sandy?” Tim asked.

“They've done a hell of a job. I say go for it."

“The decision is unanimous,” Tim laughed. “Now you goofballs get out of here and go to work,” Tim said to the assembly as he stood up and reached for Jo's hand.

“Jo,” he said. “I'm impressed. I've never seen anyone handle Vic Kimel so effectively."

Vic shook her hand also. “It's my job to be skeptical,” he explained, “but I'm on your side now. Believe me. I want to work with you, if you will let me. I may be able to save you a few bucks along the way and/or stretch your budgeted dollars a bit."

Sandra locked arms with Jo as they moved towards the door of Tim's study and whispered, “I saw that you doubled your own salary. I just wanted you to know you didn't slip that by me."

Penny sat in Uncle Amos’ luxurious desk chair, leaned back and propped her feet on the mahogany top. She selected the first volume of the diary, opened it and hoped she could stay awake long enough to read at least a few entries.

Today I sold my soul to the devil. I need so desperately to talk with someone, but there is no one I can trust. Recording my thoughts is as close as I can come.

To put things into perspective, I need to go back two years. The hailstorm totally wiped out my tobacco crop that year. It was too late to replant and there was no crop insurance. The mortgage on the farm came due and I couldn't pay it. They began foreclosure proceedings. I went to Pete Harlow. As children, we were friends but there was little contact after he made his fortune. Pete was sympathetic. He assumed the mortgage. I thought I had a new lease on life.

It was the next spring that I broke my leg. The damn thing was shattered in so many places it never did heal right. Somehow, the wife and I got the tobacco sets planted. Then came another hailstorm. It destroyed the entire crop again, and there still was no crop insurance. I'm not stupid. I tried without success to borrow the money for insurance. Hell, I surely didn't have enough money to pay for it. As it was, the wife and I were living on potato soup. This time it happened early enough in the season to replant. That, of course, was the summer when wells went dry all over the county. There was no rain.

I buried Martha that summer. They say she died of heart failure and maybe she did, but I think she just could not stand to see me suffer any longer.

Pete Harlow wasn't so sympathetic this time when the note came due. He demanded payment in full, knowing I didn't have the money. What he really wanted was the farm to add to his holdings. Hell, he owned half of Dot as it was. He made me beg, and I begged. God how I hated him.

He said he had a little project in mind, and when the time came, he would need a partner. He said he would renew the loan if I would pledge to be his partner in this mysterious enterprise. Of course, I asked for details, but he put me off. I felt I had no choice.

Today he called in the pledge. In the basement of his home he has built a professional video studio, complete with computers, video cameras, sound equipment, backdrops, lighting and props. He's going to take sex videos of whores and sell them to an outfit who will market them over the Internet, whatever the hell that is.

My disgusting role in all of this is to learn to use the video cameras and record the proceedings. If that weren't bad enough, he expects me to roam the streets of Charlotte, lining up prostitutes to star in his dirty movies.

I hate the man. I feel filthy. I wish I had the guts to kill myself, but I don't—at least not yet.

Penny drained and refilled her mug, but she no longer needed the caffeine to stay awake. She searched through the drawers of the desk, looking for a legal pad. Instead she found a blank notebook, similar to those Amos used for his diary. She made a few notes and resumed reading.

Uncle Amos learned to use the video equipment and was surprised at how easy it was to obtain the services of a prostitute. At the end of the first month, Harlow gave Amos five thousand dollars as his share of the profit. As time went on the procedure became routine. The tone of Uncle Amos’ writing seemed to indicate he was accepting his role in the pornography industry.

As Penny began to read the second volume, Amos once again expressed alarm. The syndicate to which Harlow was selling the videos began to demand greater variety. First, Harlow moved to threesomes—two women and himself, or one woman and two men. Amos became the second male participant and the diary showed that he hated himself not only for participating but also for enjoying the perverted sex.

The third volume revealed an entry into child pornography and the fourth told of the filming of lesbian and homosexual scenes. Unlike the first two volumes, these two contained no graphic descriptions of scenes filmed. At the beginning of the fifth volume, Amos stated that he repaid over half his debt. His take of the profit was now up to fifteen thousand a month and he was hopeful that by the end of the year the loan would be completely paid off and he would be able to get out of the business altogether.

It was in the sixth year that the syndicate began to demand sadomasochistic films. It was more difficult to find whores who would submit to severe pain, and Harlow would not abide any pretense in his filmmaking. Penny shuddered as she read a particularly descriptive passage of Harlow strapping a very frightened woman, already savagely beaten, to a table. Harlow actually forced his fist into the woman's vagina. The more she screamed the more pressure he applied. The syndicate liked realistic screaming.

The seventh volume described more changes in the business. By this time, Harlow was fairly knowledgeable in the use of computers and he purchased the most powerful business computer available. He learned to crop stills from the videos and he set up his own Internet site, selling filthy pictures to an abundant supply of dirty-minded net surfers. What surprised Amos was the large number of female customers. That was also the year that Harlow began to call in loans he made to other Dot residents, letting them pay off portions of their loans with their wives’ participation in his films.

By the middle of the year, Amos paid off his loan in full, but he remained in the business. His face and body were in many of the videos and Harlow threatened to expose him if he broke off the relationship. “I can't get out of this mess just yet,” Amos wrote, “but I'll be damned if I'll ever spend another dime of this filthy money."

Penny wondered what he did with the money. Maybe he refused to accept it.

There was a three-month gap between the end of the seventh volume and the beginning of the eighth. Amos engaged the services of an extraordinarily beautiful Charlotte prostitute—young and well endowed. She called herself Jan and Pete Harlow fell for her—hook, line and sinker. Jan was soon his mistress and a nightly performer in the video sessions. Her performance was far more sadistic than anything Pete Harlow previously dreamed up. Her delight seemed to lie in torturing women's breasts. By the end of the year Harlow managed to fulfill a promise by getting Jan a job as a deputy in the Mecklenburg County Sheriff's Department. Penny found that unlikely, but why would Uncle Amos lie? Jan continued to spend most nights and weekends when she was off duty with Harlow and became the main provider of both actors and actresses for their films, offering captured minor criminals their freedom in exchange for a performance before the cameras.

In the ninth year, Amos’ diary revealed that it was Jan who introduced the subject of bestiality. The first attempt was with a big stray dog of unknown ancestry. The dog simply wasn't interested. Even rubbing his nose in the victim's crotch failed to produce the desired result. The second attempt ended brutally. Three Rottweilers and two whores whom Jan recruited were put together. Harlow drugged the women and they barely knew what was happening. The dogs not only did their thing, but also chewed savagely on the women's appendages. The scene wound up a bloody mess. Amos wrote that the whole thing was disgusting, but the film became a bestseller.

The scenario of women with animals ended when a film proved to be too disgusting for even Pete Harlow. It involved a woman, who Amos described as the new doctor in Dot, and a Shetland pony. Penny wondered if the woman could possibly have been Dr. McGee and she made another note in her nearly filled book.