The Lockwood Concern (5 page)

And I want you to understand that this wasn't a cheap, casual affair, either on her part or on mine." "But it soon became an affair, I gather," said George Lockwood." "We don't have to go into the details of that, do we? I'm not very proud of myself. I was forty-six years old, and with no reason to think that my life would be anything but what it was. Married to a fine woman. Good friends. Plenty of money. But whenever I was with this girl, at her apartment, I seemed to become another person." He swung his chair so that he again faced the window. "She had a piano in her apartment, and at home I never touched the piano. But she'd buy all the latest tunes, sheet music, and I'd play and she'd sing. She had a nice voice, contralto. And I began to spend every Saturday afternoon with her. I'm not trying to pretend that it was innocent fun, George. It was not. In that respect it was an entire new experience for me. I had never associated that experience with love, and I now realize that there was very little difference between my lack of sophistication and Wilma's. Wilma's - indifference, if you want to call it that - was largely my fault." "The word love has just come into the conversation for the first time," said George Lockwood. "You were in love with this young woman?" "I am in love with her, and that's the problem," said Penrose Lockwood. "She's going to marry someone else, and I'd do anything I could to prevent it." "Short of marrying her yourself." "Not short of marrying her myself." "Have you asked her to marry you?" "I have. Last summer, when she told me that she had someone else, who wanted to marry her. She went away on her vacation and while she was away she had appendicitis." He looked up quickly at his brother. "It's all right Pen," said George Lockwood. "I guessed it a while ago." "How? What did I say?" "When you were talking about her ability, and her being in charge of other stenographers. I think I began to guess it even before that. You don't see many other stenographers day to day, and Miss Strademyer is certainly the most attractive one in this office." "I've been alone with her once since last summer, and that was when she told me about her fiancé." "Did you go to bed with her then?" "No. I wanted to, but she wouldn't." "And what did she say when you asked her to marry you? "She said she wouldn't. And she said she was going to resign her job here, and I'd soon forget her." "What did you say to that?" "I told her to take a leave of absence, stay away as long as she wanted to, but to come back. Because I know she was happy with me. If she wants to give marriage a try, then I have no right to oppose her. But I know she'll want what we had, and miss it. For over three years, close to four, we had a relationship that I didn't think was possible." "Do you think she was faithful to you all that time?" said George Lockwood. "In the beginning, no. But for three years she was." "You have only her word for that, Pen," said George Lockwood. Penrose Lockwood smiled. "I haven't even got that. I just know. That's where inexperience counts, George. You would be full of doubts because you've been what they call a man of the world. But being a man of the world has cost you something. You have to doubt people because you give them so much cause to doubt you." "It's true that I have less faith in women than you have," said George Lockwood. "Oh, you're completely cynical, not only about women." "Cynical, but always hopeful. Well, you said you had a problem. What is the nature of the problem?" "You know, I don't know that I have a problem now. I've poured it all out to you, and I'm grateful to you. But this has done me a world of good because I see everything more clearly. Marian will marry her young man, and I'll have to endure that for a while, but she'll be back." "And then what? You'll marry her?" "Yes. She'll have had the chance she's entitled to and that I can't stand in the way of." "Well, then you have no problem. I hope you won't be sorry you confided in me," said George Lockwood. "On the contrary. It's a great load off my mind." "There's only one thing, Pen. What if she likes being married to this young man?' "You're just as thorough as always, and I was wondering whether you weren't going to ask that," said Penrose Lockwood. "I've thought about it. Worried about it. But now I realize that those kind of doubts are inconsistent with what I really believe. Really know." "Well, as long as you're that confident," said George Lockwood. "Still the cynic, George. You miss a lot that way." "Yes, I know I do. Come on, let's get over to Ray Turner's solid mahogany bucket-shop. Maybe I ought to say old oaken bucket-shop." The brothers rose simultaneously. George Lockwood helped Penrose on with his coat and they proceeded to George's office, where Penrose helped George. George then linked his arm in his brother's, and they went out to the elevator together. Ray Turner's private office was neither mahogany nor oaken; it was in the newer fashion, knotty pine, and spacious enough for the caterer's table and service wagon. "George, I don't know when I saw you last. You don't get down here often enough, but I'm very glad you came today." "Oh, I don't belong down here. I'm just a hick from the country," said George Lockwood. "I hear you're becoming a country squire," said Ray Turner. "Yes, I heard that, too," said Charley Bohm. "The hick from the country is making more money than any of us. How did you finally come out on that carburetor deal, if you don't mind my asking?" "Not at all," said George Lockwood. "As the British say, we made a small packet. Pen will tell you." "We won the patent suit. You knew that," said Penrose Lockwood. "Yes. I saw that," said Charley Bohm. "Well, then we sold our interest to Carlton-MacLeod," said Penrose Lockwood. "Oh, they got it?" said Bohm. "Yes, we got some common, some preferred-" said Penrose Lockwood. "And some cash, I imagine," said Bohm. "Oh, always some cash," said George Lockwood. "Always, always some cash." "Well, that's the way I like to do business as a rule," said Bohm. I always like to see some cash in a transaction. You took the common instead of royalties, I imagine." "We sure did," said Penrose Lockwood. "That's one less step in the bookkeeping. Funny things happen to royalties sometimes, but when you own common stock you have a better idea of where you stand." "You do indeed," said Bohm. "Does anyone care for a cocktail?" said Ray Turner. "Nope," said Charley Bohm. "No thanks," said Penrose Lockwood. "Well, I'll have one, Ray. A Martini?" said George Lockwood. "And I'll have one with you," said Ray Turner. "Stirred, or shaken?" "Shaken vigorously is the way I like them," said George Lockwood. "So do I," said Ray Turner. "Waiter, did you hear that?" "Yes sir," said the waiter, going to work. "Then you can come back in about an hour," said Turner. "We'll serve ourselves from the wagon. We're having lobster Newburg, gentlemen. Meet with your approval, George?" "I'd be crazy if it didn't," said George Lockwood. "Tell me about your new estate," said Ray Turner. "Well, I've got about three hundred acres, all told. We're hoping to have some good shooting in a year or two." "Horses?" said Charley Bohm. No horses. My wife doesn't ride and I don't anymore. It isn't riding country." "No fox-hunting riding-to-hounds?" said Bohm. "Not within fifty miles. It's just a house on the hillside, woodland on three sides." "What kind of a house did you build, George? We're thinking of either buying or building," said Turner. "Lockwood Colonial, I guess you'd call it," said George Lockwood. "Red brick, two stories, an attic and a cellar. Doorway in the center. Very simple." "How many rooms in a house like that?" said Bohm. "In ours, which is deceptively deep, eighteen. It looks smaller than that sounds. Then we have two apartments over the garage. We have a tennis court and a small swimming-pool, and later on a house where people can change their clothes and, in a pinch, spend the night. We don't expect to do much entertaining." "Well, you're all set," said Turner. Yes, we have plenty of water. Some game. A few deer. Fruit trees. We could subsist there if we had to. I always said that if I ever built a house I'd like to feel that I could be like the first Lockwoods that came to this country." "When was that, George?" said Bohm. "Well, our branch arrived here early in the Eighteenth Century. We believe he helped build the Conestoga wagon, and took a trip in one and settled in Central Pennsylvania. Am I correct, Brother Penrose?" "Yes. He opened a store somewhere along the way." "And was killed by Indians. Or at least Indians were blamed. But now I've said enough. My brother cautioned me against talking too much." "Go on. This is interesting," said Bohm. "Maybe not to Ray, but to me. My name was originally B, o, e, h, m. Pennsylvania name." "Of course it is," said George Lockwood. "I had an ancestor that was - I think he was governor of Pennsylvania. But then he got into some kind of trouble and went out West. He may not have been governor, but I know he was from Pennsylvania. We're all from Indiana and Illinois, my father and mother's people. But even so you could call this an all-Pennsylvania party. Shall we have another snort on that, George?" "No thank you, Ray, but you go ahead." "I never get the full taste of a Martini till I've had two. Help yourselves, gentlemen. Dig right in, and I'll be with you in two gulps." Turner drank two more cocktails, then finished his lobster Newburg ahead of his guests. No one wanted dessert, and they left the table and had coffee while seated around Turner's desk. "Before you start, Ray. I'll be very polite and offer to leave if this is at all confidential," said George Lockwood. "It's God damn confidential, George. But I don't want you to leave," said Turner. "This is something that Charley and I've been approached about. As you know, Charley and I aren't partners, but we occasionally go in on things together, so a lot of people have got to thinking we are partners." "I don't have a nickel in Ray's firm, and he doesn't have a nickel in mine." "Right. Neither firm is in on this thing, you understand, gentlemen?" "Right," said Penrose Lockwood. "Okay. Well now this is something that we heard about through a customer of Charley's firm out in Ohio. Charley's firm has a branch in Cleveland and one of his customers, not a big one but an old one, asked Charley if he ever put any money in a small business just starting out." "Our customer is an elderly gentleman, living retired in a little town in Ohio. A country lawyer. Very highly thought of in his community, and through him we got several new customers. So I listened to what he had to say, that this friend of his wanted to start up a business, and then he handed me this. One of these." Charley Bohm took a cardboard box off Turner's desk, opened it, and extracted an object wrapped in heavy tinfoil. He handed it to Penrose Lockwood; took a similar object from the box and handed it to George Lockwood. "Go ahead. Open them up." The Lockwoods removed the tinfoil. "It looks like a piece of candy," said Penrose Lockwood. "It is. Take a bite out of it," said Bohm. The Lockwoods ate the candy, nodding as they chewed. "Damn good," said George Lockwood. "I'm glad I didn't have any dessert." "I never eat candy, but this is good," said Penrose Lockwood. "Marshmallow, chocolate fudge, shredded coconut, and good thick chocolate coating," said George Lockwood. "But there's something else in there, mixed in with the fudge, I guess." "Yes, you're right, there is," said Charley Bohm. "But I'll tell you frankly, I don't know what it is. I could have it analyzed, but what's to stop the chemist from making this himself? You agree it's good. I say it's as tasty a piece of candy as I ever ate, and I eat a lot of candy to keep from drinking booze. The recipe was invented by a woman in this town in Ohio, and I would like to put the God damn thing on the market. So would Ray. We're sold on it." "To such a degree that we've looked into what it would cost to put on a national advertising campaign. First we think up a good name, and then we're off to the races. Saturday Evening Post. Collier's. Kid's magazines. Newspapers. Billboards. Car cards. We get somebody like Norman Bel Geddes to design the package and decide what shape the mould should be. The candy itself is going to cost nothing. The money is going into the advertising campaign. We'll create a demand before anybody ever sees the God damn candy, and that's why we need money. What do you think, Pen?" "Well - I like the candy, but personally I wouldn't want to put up Lockwood & Company money for an advertising campaign. That can vanish into thin air, and if the candy is a failure, how much can you recover from an advertising campaign? Nothing. That's my opinion. George may differ with me." "I don't differ with my brother, as far as Lockwood & Company are concerned. He has to think of various other individuals." "Well, in other words, the answer is no," said Turner. "I didn't say quite that," said George Lockwood. "How much money are you planning to spend, and how much are you going to need?" "Well, George, the exact figures are confidential," said Turner. "But upwards of a million, and the lion's share goes into advertising the candy. That much I'll tell you, even if you don't think much of the investment." "You can put me down for a hundred and fifty thousand," said George Lockwood. "What? Are you kidding?" said Turner. "I don't kid about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars," said George Lockwood. "Well, say," said Charley Bohm. "Pen, you ought to get in on this, your own money," said George Lockwood. "I'm afraid not," said Penrose Lockwood. "Fifty thousand?" said George Lockwood. "Sorry, George. I believe in spending money on advertising when you have a product to sell, but this would be advertising without a product." "You tasted the candy," said George Lockwood. "But they're going to advertise first and manufacture later. If it was a new automobile, you'd at least have some scrap iron if the car was a failure. Sorry, George. No." "Well, gentlemen, I'm in," said George Lockwood. "Pen you're excused. We're going to have a private meeting." Penrose Lockwood rose. "I'll be a son of a bitch if I've ever known a more unpredictable man, and he's my own brother. Ray, thanks for the lunch. Charley. And good luck, all three of you. Maybe I'll be sorry, but maybe not. At least I won't lie awake nights when I see those ads in The Saturday Evening Post. So long." He departed. "Now then, Ray, Charley let's see what you have on paper. Who else are in on this, and for how much, and have you signed up a man from one of the big candy companies? That's good candy. It leaves a good taste. It can be marketed for a nickel, of course?" "In quantity, we can make money on a nickel," said Ray Turner.
"There'll be quantity," said George Lockwood. "Now there's only one hitch, and it isn't much of a one." "What's that, George?" said Turner. "As you can see, I'm going into this with great enthusiasm. I always do, and my enthusiasm will continue. But it's nobody's damn business what I go into and what I stay out of. So - publicly, my name stays out." "That's easy," said Charley Bohm. "The carburetor deal, that was Lockwood & Company, but my personal investments are another matter. I have no desire to broadcast my failures or my successes. Keep me out of print. With that understood, let's get down to business." He remained with Turner and Bohm until past five o'clock, and the three men worked well together. George Lockwood asked the leading questions, Ray Turner would give the straightforward answers, Charley Bohm would embellish Turner's answers; but in Bohm's supplementary and lengthy remarks there was always some point of information that had not been included in Turner's terser replies. Turner had the bookkeeping mind and saw the enterprise as a structure of arithmetical figures. Bohm, it developed, had not at first seen the enterprise as a promising proposition, and had not tried to persuade Turner to invest in it. With him it was going to be a modest, sentimental speculation, in which he was thinking in terms of $25,000. But as he talked, Turner had caught some of his enthusiasm, and before long Turner was envisioning a business enterprise that could match the recent startling success of Eskimo Pie, the chocolate-coated ice cream that had become a legend. "I thought of Eskimo Pie, too," said George Lockwood. "Ah!, you've had me wondering why you jumped right in with both feet," said Ray Turner. "Oh, that occurred to me right away," said Lockwood. "This candy won't have the novelty that Eskimo Pie had, but it has something in its favor to make up for that." "What are you thinking of?" said Turner. "Ice cream melts," said George Lockwood. "This candy doesn't need refrigeration. You can put a stack of these candies on a cigar-store counter, and you can't do that with Eskimo Pie. The retailer won't have to buy a nickel's worth of extra equipment." Turner smiled at Bohm. "You're echoing what Ray said to me three months ago," said Bohm. "Well, I'm a practical man, just as Ray is. I see the dollars-and-cents aspect. At the same time, though, my enthusiasm for this is partly based on a conversation Pen and I had this morning. After our conversation I was ripe for an investment of this kind. It's highly speculative, but it's an investment nevertheless. I'm damned tired of the stock market." "I can't say I'm tired of it," said Charley Bohm. "But I'm inclined to be bearish." George Lockwood looked at him before speaking. "Is that because you like being on the short side?" "I go from short to long, whichever way I think is going to make me some money," said Bohm. "Admit it, everybody knows you're generally bearish' said Turner. "Personally, I think we're in for a five-year boom." "Beginning when?" said Lockwood. "Beginning about now." "You mean of course a stock-market boom," said Lockwood. "Of course, although based on what I see going on all over the country. Expansion. New industry. Employment figures." "But wouldn't you agree with me that stocks generally are too high?" "Charley says that, but I don't think so, and even if they are a little high, the economy is going to catch up. We'll keep old Cal in Washington for another six years, and business will have a free hand." "Well, Ray, I see that you and I are going to have to avoid one topic. The stock market." "What are you complaining about, George? You've made plenty of money in it." "Yes, and I'd like to hold on to it. That's why I'm investing in this candy, a business that I know absolutely nothing about, but that's at least a business. I think it made more sense to put money in Florida real estate. At least those people have a place to lie down." "Am I to understand that you don't think it's wise to be in the market?" "It's wise if you're willing to admit frankly that you're gambling. But it isn't wise if you think of it any other way. Because if you look at it any other way, you're deceiving yourself, and when you start deceiving yourself, you're not being wise. About anything." George Lockwood unconsciously looked at the door through which his brother had passed. "I could point out that you may be deceiving yourself, George," said Turner. "A hundred and fifty thousand dollars' worth." "No. I'm like that ancestor of ours that opened a store on the Conestoga Road. There was some risk, and he happened to lose. But he opened a store. He went into business. If he'd been luckier, he might have been as rich as the Astors. I'm going in the candy business, and I'm not risking my life, as our ancestor did. I'm not even risking bankruptcy. I could spend this money on a boat, speaking of Astor, but I don't care that much about owning a boat. I'm doing something because I'd like to prove a point to my brother, and to you too, for that matter, Ray." "George, we're going to have our arguments. We won't be able to avoid it," said Turner. "Oh, I'm pretty adroit at avoiding arguments, Ray. I never argue to convince anybody. Only to learn something or to entertain myself." "Well, I hope you learned something today." "Thank you, I did," said George Lockwood. "Life is a fascinating enterprise. Twenty-four hours ago I was congratulating some Italian cabinetmakers on some beautiful work they did for me. And not one thing that's happened to me since then would I have been able to predict. Why, this time yesterday I had no intention of coming to New York." The three men agreed to meet again the next day, and George Lockwood walked up to Broadway and the office of Lockwood & Company. It was getting dark, and most of the office staff had gone home or were saying goodnight. Marian Strademyer was at her desk. "I have a message for you from your brother," she said, as George Lockwood was passing in front of her. "And that is?" said George Lockwood. "You and Mrs. Lockwood are dining at his house tomorrow evening, eight o'clock," she said. "Thank you, Miss Strademyer." "You and he were very chummy today," she said. "Were we? Unusually so, did you think?" "I thought so, arm-in-arm, going out to lunch," said Marian Stradernyer. "Oh, well, I suppose that was unusual, in the office at any rate. But we're very close," said George Lockwood. He turned his head in the direction of his brother's office, and continued, reflectively, "I don't know of anything I wouldn't do for him." "That's nice," she said, then, lowering her voice slightly: "I changed my mind about this afternoon, if you're still interested." "I said four o'clock. Now there isn't time," he said. "Oh, all right," she said. "You mustn't be disagreeable, Marian. I don't like disagreeable women. Have you any other messages?" "No," she said. She took her purse out of her desk drawer and angrily walked out. He went to his office and closed the door. "Miss Strademyer," he said aloud, "You are a nuisance." He seated himself at his desk and began speaking into the Dictograph, a summary of his conversation with Turner and Bohm. When he had finished he put the tube in his topcoat pocket. "I don't like you anymore, Miss Strademyer," he said, and lightly tapped the Dictograph. "Not one damn bit." The office was now deserted; the first of the cleaning women had not yet arrived. He went through Marian Strademyer's desk, carefully replacing everything he disturbed. None of the contents of the desk drawers interested him for long. He sat in her chair for a minute or two, and his next move was to the glass-partitioned bookkeeping room. He took down a large ledger stamped Payroll and placed it on a desk, and there before him was a complete record of Strademyer, Marian's, salary-and-bonus history at Lockwood & Company. He closed the book, and was about to return it to the shelf, but he reopened it, read the payroll accounts of several other employees, and discovered that Strademyer, Marian, had never had a deduction in her pay cheques for an advance salary payment. In this respect she was unique. No one else had managed to go through any single year without at least one salary advance; several employees on a slightly lower pay scale had seldom got through a fortnight without borrowing money from the petty cash account. Strademyer, Marian, had never borrowed a cent. She seemed to manage very well. George Lockwood wandered about the office, walking from room to room, smoking his pipe. Then abruptly he stopped walking and took from his vest pocket a small, gold-cornered pigskin notebook. He opened it, and carried it, open, to the vault in the cashier's room. He read the combination from his notebook, and swung open the vault door. With the key at the end of his watch-chain he opened a file drawer marked Personnel Correspondence, and took out the Strademyer, Marian, folder. Soon he had a list of Strademyer, Marian's charge accounts, which had required routine references from Lockwood & Company. For a young woman who was earning forty dollars a week she had found it desirable to establish credit at a considerable number of luxury stores. Lucetta Shay was a small, exclusive dress shop that made Geraldine Lockwood complain of its prices; Milestone & Leigh was a small, exclusive jewelry-silversmith that did not advertise; Kimiyoto & Company, Marchbanks Limited, Barney's Theatre Ticket Service, Edouard Parfumier were Madison Avenue and cross-street institutions that were semi-secrets of the rich, the chic, the spenders. Marchbanks Limited did, not even state its business on its letterhead. It was six-thirty when George Lockwood closed the vault and took the subway uptown. Geraldine was lying in the tub. "You'll have to get out of there," he said. "I was getting ready to," she said. "Did you have a nice day with Pen? Tell me all about it, then you can ask me about what I did." "Thank God we're going to have plenty of hot water in the new house," he said. "Didn't we in the old? Wilma called and wants us for dinner tomorrow. I said yes." "I know. Pen left a message." "Where were you? I thought you'd be at the office, but they didn't seem to know where you were." "Pen knew, but I guess he was being discreet. We had lunch with Ray Turner and Charley Bohm, then I stayed and spent the afternoon with them." "Did you make a lot of money?" "Potentially. Potentially. But I tied up a large amount of cash." He was undressing as she dried herself. "I hope that's not intended as a warning. I went back and saw Mr. Kimiyoto. I told him we were taking the vases. Positively, this time. He wants to send them by van, and one of his sons is going along to supervise the unloading and uncrating." "I should hope so. How was Mary?" "Well, it shows what they think of them. Mary Chadbum? Weepy. Lawrence has T.B., and she was-" "Lawrence? Who's Lawrence?" "Her nephew. Doug's sister's oldest boy, but Mary is devoted to him." "Mary gets devoted to anybody that will give her an excuse to weep." "I know, but she does an awful lot of good, Mary." "Well, maybe she can get the boy a new lung." "I don't think that's nice, George. Shall I run your tub for you?" "Yes, will you please?" "Wait till I put something on," she said. "Mary wanted to know if everything was all right between Pen and Wilma. I said as far as I knew, yes. Then she gave me a sort of a patronizing look and I said well, I was just a hick from the country, but I couldn't pry any more out of her. Is there something I'm supposed to know? I didn't notice anything when I had dinner there, but I wasn't looking for anything." "What kind of thing was she talking about?" "Well, naturally I inferred that Wilma had a beau or Pen had a lady friend. One or the other." "Mary threw the match in the gas tank and ran." "But Mary doesn't usually gossip, unless there's something." "Well, I was with Pen today, and he happened to say he didn't have any problem, so it isn't Pen. And if Wilma has a beau it must be somebody like old Rancid Martin." "Ransome Martin." "And at seventy-eight he's relatively harmless. No, you go back and tell Mary to give you more particulars or shut up. Not too warm, my tub. Just make it half and half." "It is half and half. Your shirts are back from the laundry." "Why do you tell me that? Was anyone talking about shirts?" "I thought I'd say something to get you in a different mood. You've been very captious since you got here, and I don't enjoy that." "I'm very sorry, Geraldine." "I had too many years of every time something went wrong, I bore the brunt of it. I didn't marry you to go through that all over again. And I won't, George. Please make no mistake about that." "You're really cross?" "No, dear, I'm not cross. That's not saying I might not get cross. But let's have it understood that when I'm trying to be pleasant, which is most of the time, I don't like being snapped at. I loved every minute of last night and felt wonderfully all day. But you can make me unhappy, too. You can be very distant at times." "I'm sorry, my dear. It's been one thing after another the past day or so." "Have your bath, and then maybe you'll decide that it'd be nice to have dinner here and not go out. I'm perfectly willing to do whatever you'd like to do." "We'll see after I've had my bath." "You're the most attractive man I ever knew. You know you are." "After two years of marriage?" "You'll always be attractive. I suppose I ought to thank those hundreds of women before you selected me." "There was nothing like hundreds of women, Geraldine. A few, but not hundreds." "Well - I'm just as much of a woman as any of them, although God knows I never knew that until three years ago. Maybe that's why you're so attractive, George. Any dull woman could be the wife of Howard Duckmaster, but I know they're all saying, 'What does George Lockwood see in her? What shall I tell them?" "You can tell them that I find you anything but a dull woman." "Well, I would have gone on being one if you hadn't been so bold. 'Try me, sometime.' Who would think that a simple little remark like that could change my entire life?" "The moment was right. I decided that you must be getting ready to try someone." "That was really it. You read my mind before I was aware of what I was thinking. I was awful, wasn't I? I was so stupid. So embarrassed." "No you weren't. You were yourself, not trying to be anyone else or anything else but what you were. That's the whole secret, you know. The stupid one was Howard." "Oh, Lord. Poor Howard. Well, you go take your tub." "And you're over being cross?" he said. "I have to assert myself once in a while," she said. They dined on antipasto and spaghetti at a speakeasy in Chelsea, where they were joined by a Princeton class mate of George Lockwood's. It was a family-owned restaurant, a single, long narrow room with both walls painted to depict