I'd take a shot at it for that kind of money!"
Sheffield hesitated a moment.
He looked at Mac but Mac wouldn't meet his gaze.
Then he turned toward the urinal, his hand going to his fly.
He looked at me. I nodded.
Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
He just stood there, a red flush creeping up his collar into his face.
A moment passed, another moment. His face was red now.
I broke the silence. "All right, Mr. Sheffield," I said with a straight face. "I concede. You win the bet.
The deal is for twelve five."
He stared at me, trying to read my mind. I kept my expression blank.
I held out my hand toward him. He hesitated a moment, then took it.
"May I call you Martin?" I asked.
He nodded, a faint smile appearing on his thin lips.
"Please do."
I shook his hand.
"Martin," I said solemnly. "Your fly is open!"
3.
McAllister made the necessary changes in the contracts and we signed them right there.
It was after four thirty when we came out into the lobby.
I started for the elevator when Amos Winthrop tapped me on the shoulder.
I didn't want to talk to him.
"Can it keep until morning, Amos?" I asked. "I gotta get some sleep."
His face crinkled in a knowing smile. He hit me on the shoulder jovially.
"I know the kind of sleepin' you want to do, boy, but this is important."
"Nothing can be that important."
The elevator door opened and I stepped into it. Amos was right beside me.
The operator started to close the doors.
"Just a minute," I said. The doors rolled open again and I stepped out. "All right, Amos," I asked.
"What is it?"
We walked over to a couch and sat down.
"I need another ten thousand," he said.
I stared at him. No wonder he was always broke.
He spent it faster than they could print it.
"What happened to all the cash you got for your stock?"
An embarrassed expression crossed his face. "It's gone," he said. "You know how much I owed."
I knew. He owed everybody.
By the time he got through with his creditors and his ex-wives, I could see where the fifty grand had gone.
I was beginning to feel sorry I'd included him in the deal but I'd thought he'd be able to contribute something to the company. At one time, he was one of the best designers of aircraft in the country.
"Your contract doesn't provide for advances like that," I said.
"I know," he answered. "But this is important.
It won't happen again, I promise.
It's for Monica."
"Monica?" I looked at him. This was going to be good.
"What about her?"
He shook his head. "I want to send her to her mother in England. She's too much for me. I can't control her any more.
She's seeing some guy on the sly and I have a feeling if she isn't balling him already, she soon will be."
For a moment, I stared at him.
I wondered if this wasn't a gentle form of blackmail.
It could be that he already knew and was taking this way of letting me know.