“Next year?”
“Yes. He didn’t want to get a divorce before Elizabeth’s debut next September. He doesn’t want anything to spoil it for her.”
“He seems to have thought it all out very thoroughly,” I said. “And he wants you to wait?”
She nodded.
I felt the gears begin to mesh. Slowly I let the clutch out. “Okay, Bobbie, playtime is over,” I said. “Let’s get down to the nitty gritty. How long have you been after him?”
She stared at me for a moment. “You have a nasty mind.”
“It takes practice,” I said. “Truth time. How long?”
She hesitated. “Two years.”
“What took you so long? Why didn’t you just grab him by the cock?”
“It would have frightened him off,” she said. “I had to do the lady bit.”
“You’re probably right.”
“You’re not angry with me?”
“Why should I be? I’ve only known you a few weeks.” I reached for a cigarette. “I can’t see where you have a problem. You got what you went after.”
She looked into my eyes. “I didn’t figure on falling in love with you.”
“What difference should that make?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” I smiled. “I don’t mind a little bit of adultery. If even adds some fun.”
“You could ask me to marry you, you bastard,” she said. “Just to be polite.”
“No way,” I grinned. “You just might take me up on it. And then where would we both be? No place either of us wanted.”
“Then what do I do? Wait here for him?”
“No, that would be a mistake,” I said. “You have to keep him coming after you. Don’t give him the feeling he has you locked away for his own convenience. You get on the plane to London tonight.”
“You’re probably right,” she said thoughtfully. “What do I tell him?”
“Be noble. Tell him you’re leaving the country because you don’t want to cause embarrassment for him, you respect him too much to allow that to happen. That should instill the proper guilt feelings in him.”
She stared at me. “Last chance,” she said. “Since you won’t ask me, I’ll ask you. Will you marry me?”
“No.”
The tears suddenly came to her eyes. I held out my arms to her and she came into them. “I knew this would happen,” she wept. “I tried to tell you in the San Francisco airport. Why did you let me go?”
“I had no choice. We both had already made our commitments.”
Her voice was muffled against my chest. “Take me to bed. Please.”
None of it made any sense at all. Everything had changed but nothing had changed. It was still beautiful.
We went directly from bed to the airport. I put her on her plane to London, then caught the last flight of the evening to Detroit.
We sat in the study of the Hardeman mansion in Grosse Pointe around a small, oddly shaped, ancient wooden table whose surface bore the burns of many meetings like this. There were four of us: Loren, Dan Weyman, Number One, and myself.
They had been silent while Number One carefully explained his plans to them. Now he had finished and we waited for their response. It was not long in coming.
“I’m sorry, Grandfather,” Loren said. “We just can’t permit it. The risk is too great. We can’t afford to gamble the future of our company on just one car.”
Number One snorted. “How do you think this company was built? Just on that idea. The future of one car.”
“Times are different now,” Loren said. “The economy is different. Diversification has proven the savior of our company.”
“I’m not doubting the value of the other divisions,” Number One said. “But I don’t agree that it is the savior of our company. I believe it has almost cost us our company. Our automobile business is almost gone. The tail is now wagging the dog.”
“Conditions have changed in the thirty years since you were running the company,” Loren said stubbornly. “The last new American cars on the market were the Henry J. and the Edsel. And look what happened to them. Kaiser went out of the business and the Edsel almost broke Ford.”
“Kaiser would have made it had he kept on, but he wasn’t an automobile man,” Number One said. “The Edsel didn’t stop Ford. They’re bigger than they ever were. Next year they’re all coming out with sub-compacts. Do you think they would do that if they thought they were going to lose money?”
“They have to,” Loren said. “They have to meet the foreign competition. We don’t have to. We’re satisfied where we are.”
“You may be, but I’m not,” said Number One. “I don’t like being second cousin in a business where we used to be part of the main family.” He looked at me, then back at Loren. “If that’s your attitude, I can’t see any reason we stay in the automobile business.”
“It may very well be that next year we won’t be in it,” Loren said flatly. “We can’t afford it any more.”
“We’ll go out of the auto business over my dead body,” Number One said in a cold voice.
Loren was silent. He didn’t look well. There were blue circles under his eyes and his face was pouchy and drawn from lack of rest. For a moment I felt sorry for him. He had to be catching hell from all sides. At home as well as the office. His next words dispelled my pity.
He stared right at his grandfather and spoke in an equally cold voice. It was almost as if they were the only two in the room. “At a special meeting of the board of directors held yesterday, three motions were passed.
“One, the immediate dismissal of Angelo Perino as vice-president of the company.
“Two, the institution of criminal proceedings against Mr. Perino for committing the corporation to certain expenditures without due and proper authorization.
“Three, to petition the courts of the State of Michigan to appoint a receiver for your stock in the corporation until such time as it could be determined that you are fully capable and responsible for your actions.”
Number One was silent. His eyes never left Loren’s face. He sighed. “Is that the way you want to play it?”
Loren nodded. He got to his feet. “Come, Dan. The meeting is over.”
“Not quite.” Number One’s voice was calm. He pushed a sheet of paper across the table at Loren. “Read that.”
Loren glanced at it. His face went pale and even more drawn than it had been. “You can’t do that!”
“I’ve already done it,” Number One said. “All proper and legal. You can even see the seal of the Corporation Counsel of the State of Michigan, attesting to it. Acting as major stockholder and voting trustee of eighty percent of the company, I have the right to dismiss any or all of the directors of the corporation with or without cause. And that’s what I did. That board meeting you had yesterday did you no good. They’ve all been fired since Monday.”
Loren stood there.
“You better sit down, son,” Number One said gently.
Loren didn’t move.
Number One’s voice was still gentle. “You have two choices. You can quit or you can stay. Your father and I didn’t always see eye to eye with each other, but we stayed together.”
Slowly Loren sat down. He still didn’t speak.
Number One nodded. “That’s better,” he said. “Now we can get down to the real business of this meeting. Building a new car. I promised your daughter I would build her a new car and by God, I’m going to keep that promise!”
I looked across the table at Loren. I would have felt better had he talked. Then I met his eyes and I knew I had been right.
Whatever else Number One thought, the war had just begun.
Book Two
1970
Chapter One
He awoke, as usual, a few minutes before the alarm went off. He lay there in bed, his eyes watching the softly illuminated numbers on the digital clock radio move inexorably toward the time it would tu
rn on the music. As usual, he pressed the cut-off button just before the sound switched on: 6 a.m.
Silently he swung out of bed, his feet finding the slippers on the floor; picking up his robe he made his way, silent still, to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him before turning on the light so that he would not awaken his wife. He reached for the cigarettes on the shelf under the mirror, lit one and sat down on the toilet seat. Three cigarettes later nothing had happened and he was debating lighting a fourth, when he heard his wife’s voice through the door.
“Dan?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“How is it?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled, getting to his feet and tying his pajama pants back around him. He opened the door. “That doctor doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”
“He does,” she replied, reaching for the phone and pressing the intercom button. “Mamie, we’re awake.” She turned to him. “You’re too tense. You have to relax.”
“I’m relaxed,” he said. “My own tensions have nothing to do with it. I’m just constipated, that’s all. I’ve always been constipated. Ever since I was a kid. But then they didn’t have fancy doctors who treated you with psychoanalysis; they gave you a laxative and pointed you at the nearest toilet.”
“Don’t get vulgar,” she said.
“I’m not vulgar. All I want to do is move my bowels. Where’s the Ex-Lax?”
“I threw it out. Eating Ex-Lax every day is the worst thing you could do. It prevents you from functioning naturally.”
“Get some,” he snapped. “I don’t function naturally and after twenty-one years of marriage you might as well recognize that fact.” He went back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Mamie came into the bedroom carrying the breakfast tray. She placed it carefully on the bed across Jane Weyman’s legs. “Good mornin’, Miz Weyman,” she said, a bright smile on her dark face. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door. “How’s Mistuh Weyman this mornin’?”
Jane shrugged her shoulders. She uncovered the napkin over the toast. “The same.”
“That po’ man,” Mamie said sympathetically. “I do wish he would let me fix him some grits in the mornin’. They’s nothin’ like grits to get the machinery workin’.”
“You know him,” Jane said, spreading jam lavishly on her toast. “All he’ll do is drink coffee.”
“That does nothin’ but make his stomach sour,” Mamie said. She started for the door. “You-all tell him, I said grits’ll straighten him out.”
She closed the door as the telephone began to ring. Jane picked it up. “Hello,” she said, annoyed. Her voice changed quickly. “No, Loren, it’s quite all right. I’m awake and having breakfast. I’ll call Dan.”
She didn’t have to; he had opened the door and looked out at her with a face half-lathered. “Who is it?”
“Loren,” she said, her hand over the mouthpiece. “Why is he calling so early?”
He didn’t answer. He crossed the room and took the phone from her hand. The lather came off on the earpiece as he held it up. “Good morning, Loren.” He wiped the phone with his free hand. “How was your flight in?”
Loren’s voice was quiet. “Good. But I got in three hours late. I was wondering if you could come over for breakfast and fill me in before the meeting this morning?”
“Be there in twenty minutes,” Dan said. He put down the telephone. “Loren wants me to join him for breakfast,” he said to Jane. “There’s a board meeting this morning and he wants me to bring him up to date.”
“If he stayed home and paid attention to business instead of running around Europe after his English whore,” Jane said, “maybe he wouldn’t have to bother you at six o’clock in the morning.”
“You better stop talking like that,” Dan said. “Someday you’re going to have to accept her as Mrs. Hardeman. Then what are you going to do?”
“Exactly what I’m doing now,” Jane said. “I’ll ignore her. Poor Alicia. After all she’s been through.”
“Poor Alicia,” Dan mimicked. “Poor Alicia is going to get a six-million-dollar settlement for her pains. I don’t feel sorry for her.”
“I do,” Jane said. “There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate her for what she’s going through.”
“At least I won’t have to show up in a tuxedo for dinner any more,” he said, going back to the bathroom. He finished his shave quickly, came out and began to dress. “Turn on the radio and get the morning traffic report.”
Jane reached over and pressed the button. Heavy rock music flooded the room. She lowered the volume. “Sometimes I think you never should have left Ford when Mac went to Washington. At least there nobody bothered you early in the morning and your constipation wasn’t as bad.”
He didn’t answer. He was busy tucking his shirt into his trousers. The zipper caught on the shirttail. “Damn!” he muttered, struggling to loosen it.
“Who knows?” she asked. “You might have been president there by now.”
“Not a chance. I was never a favorite of Arjay’s. He kept me too far down on the pecking order. Besides, he didn’t make it. Ford goes for automobile men. That’s why Knudsen’s there now.”
“You’ll never be president here either,” she said. “Despite Loren’s promises. Especially now that the Mafia has moved in.”
“Jane, you have a big mouth,” he said. “How many times do I have to tell you that Perino has no connection with the Mafia?”
“It’s common knowledge that his grandfather was tied up with them,” she said. “My grandfather used to sell him the trucks that brought the whiskey down from Canada.”
“Your grandfather was also one of his best customers, too,” Dan said. “The way he used to drink I’m willing to bet that Old Perino never had to pay a nickel in cash for those trucks. Besides, that has nothing to do with Angelo.”
“You’re defending him,” she said accusingly. “And he’s the man who became executive vice-president instead of you.”
“I’m not defending him, Jane,” he said wearily. “And he’s exec VP of the auto division only, not the whole company. I’m still the senior vice-president.”
“He doesn’t report to you like all the others, does he?”
“No. He’s responsible directly to the board of directors. He doesn’t even report to Loren.”
“That horrid old man,” she said. “It’s all his fault. Why didn’t he stay in Florida like he was supposed to?”
He began to reply but held his tongue as the traffic report came on the radio. “This is WJR and the six-thirty traffic report.” The disc jockey’s voice was as staccato and harsh as the music had been. “Traffic on all expressways running light to moderate in all directions except for a slight tie-up on the Industrial Expressway around River Rouge where the normal shift traffic is slowing things up. US Ten, Woodward Avenue, clear into downtown Detroit, no traffic.”
“Turn it off,” he said.
She pressed the button and the voice dropped out of the room. “What’s going to happen?” she asked. “There’re rumors all over town that the old man’s going to make Perino president of the company.”
“That’s possible. But not likely just yet. Perino still has to prove himself. Especially now that there are plans to go public. Even the old man knows that. Meanwhile Loren and I still run the only end of the business that’s making a profit and we’re doing better all the time.”
He finished knotting his tie and slipped into his jacket. “I’ll be leaving. See you tonight.” He bent over the bed and kissed her cheek.
“Try to be home before eight o’clock,” she said. “We have roast beef and I don’t like it burned to a cinder.”
He nodded and went to the door. Before he went out, he looked back at her. “Don’t forget to get some Ex-Lax,” he said. “I think three days is long enough to wait for psychology to work.”
She waited until she heard his car leave the driveway, then she too
k the tray from the bed and placed it on the floor. She picked up the telephone and pressed the intercom.
Mamie answered. “Yes’m.”
“I’m going back to sleep for a little bit,” she said. “Wake me at nine. I don’t want to be late for my tennis lesson.”
She put down the telephone and turned off the light. She smiled slightly as she leaned back on the pillow. The new tennis pro down at the club was delicious. The way his lean body pressed against her from behind as he held her arm to straighten her forehand gave her the shivers.
The quiet hum of the 275-horsepower engine under the hood of the conservative all-black Sundancer reassured him as he turned out of his driveway onto the small road leading him to US 10. He looked both ways as he approached the highway. No traffic. He swung onto the road heading for downtown Detroit. He would follow Woodward Avenue to the Edsel Ford Freeway, then out to Grosse Pointe. With a bit of luck the whole trip shouldn’t take him more than twenty minutes. The Sundancer responded to his pressure on the accelerator with a satisfying surge of power.
Loren was waiting for him in the breakfast room. “Sorry to be late,” he apologized.
“That’s all right,” Loren said. “Gave me a chance to catch up on what’s been happening around town.” He gestured to a pile of back copies of the Automotive News on the floor next to him.
“Nothing much,” Dan said. “Everything’s pointing to the sub-compacts coming out in the fall. They’re watching the Gremlin, but they don’t really expect any action until the Pinto and the Vega are available.”
He studied Loren. Loren looked well. There had been a time a few short months ago when Loren had looked as if he were going through a wringer. But apparently that had passed. Now he seemed to be a man who was waiting patiently for the things he knew would happen. He sat down.
“I have some good news,” Loren said. “I’ve closed the deal in West Germany.”
“Congratulations!” Dan smiled.
“They’ll be ready to begin manufacturing immediately. The whole line. Refrigerators, ranges, television. It opens the whole common market for us on a competitive basis.”
The Betsy (1971) Page 9