"What have you got in mind?"
"I think that Cord Aircraft is going to be doing a lot of business with the Army from now on," I said. "And I need someone who knows the ropes – the men, what they want in a plane.
Make friends for us, contacts.
You know what I mean."
"I know what you mean," he said. "Like not seeing Virginia Gaddis any more because it wouldn't look good for the company."
"Something like that," I said quietly.
He threw his drink down his throat.
"I don't know whether I’d be any good at it. I've been in the Air Corps ever since I was a kid."
"You never know until you try it," I said.
"Besides, you'll do the Air Corps more good out of it than in.
There'll be nobody to stop you if you want to try out some of your ideas."
He looked at me.
"Speaking of ideas," he asked, "whose was this – yours or Gaddis's?"
"Mine," I said.
"I had my mind made up this morning after our little talk in Morrissey's office.
And it had nothing to do with whether or not they took the CA-4."
He grinned suddenly. "My mind was made up this morning, too," he said. "I was going to take the job if you offered it to me."
"Where would you like to start?" I asked.
"At the top," he said promptly. "The Army respects nothing but the top man."
"Good enough," I said. It made sense.
"You're the new president of Cord Aircraft.
How much do you want?"
"You let me pick the job," he said. "I’ll let you name the salary."
"Twenty-five thousand a year and expenses."
He whistled.
"You don't have to go that high. That's four times what I’m getting now."
"Just remember that when you come asking for a raise," I said. We both laughed and drank to it. "There's a few changes on the plane I wanted to talk to you about before the test tomorrow," he said.
Just then, McAllister came into the bedroom.
"It's almost six o'clock, Jonas," he said. "How long do you think we can keep them waiting?
Dan just spoke to David Woolf.
He says Norman is threatening to walk out."
"I’ll be with you as soon as I get my pants on." The telephone rang while I was buttoning my shirt. "Get it for me, will you?"
"What about the changes?" Forrester asked, while Mac was picking up the phone.
"Get out to the field and work them out with Morrissey."
"It's Los Angeles," McAllister said, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. "We haven't much time."
I looked at him for a moment.
"Tell them I just left for a meeting.
That they can reach me at the Norman offices in about two hours."
4.
It was just starting to turn cool and the girls were coming out of their apartments along Park Avenue, dressed in their summer clothes, their fur stoles draped casually over their shoulders.
Over on Sixth Avenue, the girls were coming out, too. But these girls weren't getting into cabs; they were hurrying toward the subways and disappearing into those gaping maws, glad to be done with their day's work.
New York had a curious twisted form of vitality that belied the general air of depression that hung over the country.
Building was going on here despite the moans and groans of Wall Street – office buildings and expensive apartments.
If all the money was supposed to be gone, how come so many expensive whores were still living in the best places?
It wasn't gone. It had just gone into hiding, burrowing into the ground like a mole, only to emerge when risks were less and profits greater.
On Sixth Avenue, the signs hung dejectedly in front of the employment agencies.
The blackboards with their white chalk job listings were already beginning to look tired, and the two-dollar chippies were already beginning their dark sky patrol.
One of them, standing on the fringe of the crowd, turned to look at me as I came by.
Her eyes were large and tired and weary and wise.
I caught her whisper from almost motionless lips.