Part 52 (1/2)

”That's what I thought,” Peter said, ”but this guy sounds all right to me. He offered me two and a half million bucks for the percentage and he'll advance the company two million bucks against film rentals.”

”I don't get it,” Johnny said. ”What's the guy got in mind?”

”Nothing, absolutely nothing,” Peter shouted back. ”He's got a business principle which says a retailer will work harder if he has a connection with the manufacturer, that's all. It makes sense to me.” He cleared his throat. ”What do you think about it, Johnny?”

Johnny thought for a moment. ”I don't know what to think,” he answered cautiously. ”I don't know enough about it, but the dough sounds awful good to me.”

”Not only that,” Peter added enthusiastically. ”He's got an idea that will bring in another two million bucks and improve our credit. I'm telling you, Johnny, he's a smart feller, that one. I think he knows what he's talking about.”

”Well, you're there, Peter,” Johnny said slowly. ”You know what's best for us.”

”You got no objections if I decide to sell him a piece?” Peter asked.

Johnny hesitated. He didn't like the idea, but couldn't see how he could object to it. After all, Peter owned the company, he had a right to sell part of it if he so desired. Peter must be almost clean now and this was a chance for him to recoup some of his personal fortune.

”I haven't any objections,” he replied slowly. ”But, Peter-be careful.”

”Sure,” Peter said, his voice still excited, ”I'll be careful.”

Johnny remembered the picture on the work sheet. ”Do you know anything about a picture called United We Stand?” he asked.

”No, I never heard of it. Why?”

”It just showed up on last week's studio work sheet,” Johnny said.

Peter laughed. ”Then what are you worrying about? It must be a new t.i.tle Mark put on one of the pictures.”

”But-” Johnny started to protest.

Peter's voice cut in on him. ”I left Mark with complete instructions on the program. He just changed a t.i.tle, that's all. After all, we got to let him have a little freedom, don't we?”

Resentment rose in Johnny's throat. With difficulty he managed to keep it from spilling over into his voice. Every time he said something about production since that fiasco with sound on disks Peter had shut him up. ”The t.i.tle is a phony,” he said flatly. ”We haven't anything on the schedule it would fit.”

”How would you know?” Peter asked belligerently. ”Mark is running the studio, not you. He would know better.” He was still sensitive over the argument Johnny had given him when he left Mark in charge of the studio.

Johnny recognized the tone in his voice. It meant that Peter had closed his mind to argument and nothing he could say would change it. He decided not to push it any further at the moment, he did not want to upset Peter while he was in the midst of negotiations with this guy Danvere. Johnny had a hunch that Danvere was a pretty smooth article and that Peter would need all his wits about him. ”All right,” he said reluctantly. ”When are you coming back?” he asked. Time enough to settle it then, he thought.

”I don't know,” Peter replied. ”If I set this deal with Danvere, I was thinking of taking a two-month trip through the Continental offices and see how they're doing. It's been more than two years since I looked them over.”

”Good idea,” Johnny said. ”Maybe you can hump 'em up a little.”

”I'll try,” Peter said.

”You want me to forward any message to the family?” Johnny asked.

”No, thanks,” Peter replied. ”I've got a call in for Esther now and I'll be talking to her as soon as I get through with you.”

”Okay, I won't keep you then,” Johnny said. ”So long.”

”Good-by, Johnny,” Peter answered.

Johnny put the phone down and looked at it thoughtfully. He hoped Peter knew what he was doing. He looked at his watch. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. That made it five o'clock in the afternoon in London and eight o'clock in the morning in California. Peter's call should catch the family at breakfast.

Doris was seated at the table reading the paper and drinking her orange juice when Mark came into the room. She looked up at him.

His eyes were puffed and rimmed with lack of sleep. He grinned at her. ”Morning, sis,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep.

”Good morning, Mark,” she said, still looking at him. ”What time did you get to bed last night?” she asked curiously.

He glanced at her quickly. ”Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders. ”I was just curious. I was up until after three o'clock and I didn't hear you come in.”

He felt a peculiar irritation at her statement. ”I'm not a baby any more,” he growled surlily at her. ”You don't have to wait up for me.”

”I wasn't waiting up for you. I was working,” she said, putting down her paper and looking at him. ”What's eating you lately?” she asked. ”You've been grouchy as a bear the last month.”

He managed a conciliatory smile. ”I've been working too hard, I guess,” he said placatingly.

She picked up her paper again. ”You might try getting to bed a little earlier,” she said quietly. ”It won't hurt.”

He didn't answer her. He picked up the gla.s.s of juice in front of him and drank it. He heard her laugh and looked at her. ”What's funny?” he asked.

”This item here in Marian Andrews's column,” she said. She read it aloud. ”'A prominent son of a prominent father in this town is in for a rude awakening when Papa comes home from a business trip. Said son has been running around with an actress his father fired from the lot on a morals-clause threat.'” She laughed again. ”I wonder whom she means?”

He looked down at the table in front of him. He could feel a flush running up into his face and hoped she wouldn't notice it. G.o.d d.a.m.n that columnist! He didn't know where she got her dope. They had been very careful not to be seen together after that first time. He was glad when the phone rang, distracting her.

”Sit there,” she said to him, ”I'll get it.” She got out of her chair and picked up the phone. ”h.e.l.lo,” she said into it.

A look of excitement came into her face. ”Get Mamma quick,” she said, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. ”It's Papa calling from London!”

He looked at her stupidly for a minute. What the h.e.l.l! Had the old boy heard about the picture already? No, he couldn't have; he didn't get any of the work sheets. He ran into the kitchen.

As usual Esther was at the stove frying the eggs and the cook stood by, watching her. ”Mamma,” he said, ”come quick. Papa's on the phone!”

Esther dropped the frying-pan on the stove and, wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n, hurried after him into the dining room.

Doris saw her coming. ”All right operator,” she said into the phone. ”Put him on. Here she is now.” She handed her mother the phone and stood by, watching her with excited eyes.

”h.e.l.lo, Papa?” Esther shouted into the phone. Her hand was shaking so that she could hardly hold it. ”How are you feeling? Are you all right?”

They could hear their father's voice buzzing and crackling in the receiver.

Esther was silent a moment, then she spoke again. ”I'm all right Papa,” she shouted into the phone again. ”Doris and Mark are all right too.” She turned and looked at them with proud s.h.i.+ning eyes. ”Yes, Papa,” she said, ”Mark is working very hard. He gets home from the studio late almost every night. Last night he didn't come in until almost four o'clock....”