Part 44 (2/2)

”That's a bit low, isn't it?” Johnny queried.

”Yes,” Collins answered, his voice making Johnny wince. ”But we're getting that million and a half from the Bank of Independence today.”

”That brings our loans to six million dollars, doesn't it?” Johnny asked.

”Yep,” Collins answered. ”That's the maximum we can borrow under our agreement with the bank. We can't get any more now until we reduce the borrowings to three million.”

”Okay, Fred.” Johnny thanked him and hung up the phone. His ears were still ringing with Collins's voice despite his precaution of holding the phone away from his ear. Why did Peter have to hire a foghorn for a treasurer, Johnny thought. Then he smiled for a moment. Collins was all right, he did a good job. The smile disappeared from his face as his mind went back to the problem.

He picked up the phone again. ”Ed Kelly,” he said into it.

A few seconds later Kelly's quiet voice came on the phone. ”Yes, Mr. Edge.”

”How many approved contracts have we got on the twenty-nine/thirty program as of yesterday, Ed?”

”Just a moment Mr. Edge,” Kelly replied. ”I'll check and see. Can I call back?”

”I'll hold on,” Johnny told him. He heard the sound of the phone being put down. Kelly was the head of the contract department. It was his job to record and send out the billings according to the sales contracts. It was the custom of the industry to sell a whole year's program in advance before many of the pictures were made, even before some of the pictures were decided upon. This was done by listing as many of the pictures on the contract as they knew about at the time the contracts were drawn and covering the balance of the program by cla.s.sifications. These cla.s.sifications bore such names as ”Specials,” ”Double A's (AA),” ”Single A's (A),” ”Exploitation Pictures,” ”Idea Pictures,” ”Westerns,” ”Serials,” and ”Shorts.” The rental paid by the exhibitor for each picture he played was very often determined by the manner in which the picture was cla.s.sified. Statistical summaries based upon these contracts would be prepared under Kelly's supervision, and they enabled Magnum to know approximately how much revenue would be forthcoming on each year's program.

”h.e.l.lo,” Kelly's voice came back on the phone.

”Yes, Ed.”

”As of last night's closing, there were eight thousand one hundred and twelve contracts.” Kelly's voice was dry and matter-of-fact. ”I understand Mr. Ragin received some additional cancellations this morning. The figure I gave you is before deducting them.”

”I understand, Ed,” Johnny said. ”Thanks.”

”You're welcome, Mr. Edge,” Kelly replied politely.

Johnny put down the phone and wrote some additional figures on a scratch pad and then sat back in his chair and looked at them. It didn't look so good.

They had lost almost a thousand exhibition contracts in the past month. Each contract represented an average of fifty dollars a week business. The loss in business as a result of the cancellations would amount to over two and a half million dollars for next year.

Johnny turned his chair toward the window and looked out. It was a beautiful fall day, but he didn't notice it; he was still calculating. If the cancellations kept pouring in at the present rate for another three months, they would have to close up shop. There wouldn't be enough coming in to carry the overhead, much less continue production of new pictures.

He took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead again. No one could predict what might happen in the next few months but there was one thing he did know. Whether Peter liked it or not they would have to switch to talking pictures. But where would they get the money? They couldn't get any more from the banks. The pictures they had on the shelf would not bring in the money to make the change-over at this rate. He wondered whether Peter had enough money of his own to do it. No, he decided, Peter couldn't have. It would cost close to six million dollars to do it and Peter couldn't possibly have that kind of money of his own.

That still left the problem where it was. They would have to switch to talking pictures even if they didn't have the money to do it. He would have to find a way.

6.

He took his hat and coat from the closet, walked into the outer office, and stopped at Jane's desk. ”I'm going to lunch,” he announced.

She looked up at him in surprise. He was going out early. He usually left about one o'clock and it was only twelve thirty now. She looked at her calendar pad. ”Don't forget, you have an appointment with Rocco at two.” She smiled.

He smiled for a moment. ”I won't forget with you around to remind me.”

She grinned back at him. ”Gotta keep the guy busy,” she replied. ”After all, he is my husband.”

For a moment he envied them. There was something about the proud way in which she spoke that betokened a closeness, an understanding, between them. Dulcie and he never felt like that. He supposed it was because they were apart so much. If they could spend more time together, maybe things would be different. He sighed almost unnoticeably. Maybe some day. ”What should I get?” he asked her, still smiling slightly. ”Just a haircut?”

She looked up at him mischievously. ”You do and I'll quit.” She laughed. ”I won't settle for nothing less than the works. Don't forget my boy works on a sixty-forty split.”

He held up a hand in mock terror. ”Okay, okay, the works it is. I haven't got the time to break in a new girl. But I think it's blackmail, that's what it is.”

She helped him on with his coat. ”That's part of the price you have to pay for my services,” she said, still laughing.

”I give up.” He laughed. His laughter turned into a spell of coughing. The tears came into his eyes.

A look of concern crossed her face. ”Be careful,” she warned. ”Keep your coat b.u.t.toned. You haven't got over that cold yet.”

He could feel a pain in his chest. Suddenly he was warm and he knew he was sweating. He tried to smile at her. ”It's those d.a.m.n cigarettes,” he gasped.

”Be careful anyway, Johnny,” she told him.

He nodded and left the office. The air was cool with the chill of fall, but the sun felt warm on his face. He loosened his coat and lit a cigarette. The smoke irritated his lungs and he coughed again. ”G.o.d-dammit,” he muttered, and began walking to the hotel.

He picked up a newspaper in the lobby of the hotel and went into the dining room. The head waiter came up to him.

”Alone, Mr. Edge?” he asked, bowing.

Johnny nodded. ”Give me a nice quiet table,” he told the man. He followed him to a table in the corner of the large dining room and sat down. He ordered lightly as he wasn't hungry, and looked around the restaurant. There was no one there to disturb him. That was why he had left early. He wanted to be alone, to have time to think quietly. It was too early for the regular crowd to be there.

He opened the paper and turned to the movie page. His glance fell upon Marian Andrews's column, ”Letter from the Stars.” The first paragraph caught his eye: The Warren Craigs are getting a divorce. I spoke to Cynthia Craig when I heard about it and asked her if it were true. ”Yes,” she told me, ”it's true. Warren and I have come to an amicable parting of the ways. His work keeps him in Hollywood all the time and mine in New York and we decided that it was the best thing for both of us.” I felt very badly about this news for I have known Warren and Cynthia ever since they came to Hollywood several years ago and they are such a charming couple. I do hope they will reconsider their decision, but I'm afraid they won't. Matters have gone too far and besides I hear that Warren is interested in another young lady, also a famous movie star, whose reputation as a heartbreaker is already the talk of Hollywood. Too bad, too bad.

He read further down the column, but there was nothing else that interested him. He turned the page, thinking that at least Dulcie and he were not too badly off. At least they had an understanding, and the fact that they were separated so much had not affected their relations.h.i.+p. Maybe they were not as close as Rock and Janey, but that would come in time.

The next page was filled with photographs of a Hollywood party. A large picture in the center of the page attracted his attention. It was a picture of Dulcie and Warren, seated at a table, holding hands and smiling at each other. The caption beneath it read: DULCIE WARREN and WARREN CRAIG, stars of MAGNUM'S latest production, Day of Mourning, caught in a moment of relaxation at the JOHN GILBERT party. Miss WARREN is married to MAGNUM'S affable executive, JOHNNY EDGE, and Mr. CRAIG has just announced his forthcoming divorce from CYNTHIA WRIGHT, prominent stage actress. Miss WARREN and Mr. CRAIG are first cousins.

Johnny smiled to himself as he looked at the picture. Dulcie had written to him and told him that the publicity department wanted them to be seen together. It was good publicity for their pictures. He nodded to himself. They were right. He had noticed quite a few pictures of them together in the papers lately.

Johnny folded his paper and turned to the plate of soup the waiter had just placed before him. The soup was hot and flavored just the way Johnny liked it, but he didn't finish it. His mind kept working on the situation he had left behind him in the office.

He felt sure that Peter would have no objections to making talking pictures after hearing what he had to tell him. But where would the money come from? There was a chance they could raise the money if they turned to Wall Street, but he knew that Peter would never do that. He put down his knife and fork and called for the check. He couldn't eat.

The head waiter hurried up. ”Monsieur is not satisfied with the food?” he asked, glancing at Johnny's almost untouched plate.

”No,” Johnny replied, ”it's not that. I'm not hungry, that's all.”

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