Chapter 6

For one solid month after Jason Thorme hired me, I did absolutely nothing to earn my pay.

My check was mailed to me each Thursday, arriving in the morning mail on Friday. I couldn't reach Jason, and after several fruitless phone calls to his office, I finally gave up. Each time I called, I was told by a very polite and very friendly secretary that Mr. Thorpe would get in touch with me when he needed me.

So I shrugged my shoulders and decided that, as long as he was paying me, I had no kick coming. I moved to a new apartment in a better section of the city, slept late in the mornings, did a lot of reading, and had myself a nice month's vacation with pay.

I kept in touch with Carla, calling her about once a week. Our phone conversations got pretty passionate, but there were three thousand miles between us, and there's not much you can do to relieve pent-up passion over the telephone. I did manage to send her back the money I had borrowed from her. She insisted it could wait a while, but I sent it back the first chance I got. The money wasn't mine to keep as far as I was concerned.

Finally, the long-awaited call came from Jason's office. I was rousted out of bed by the insistent ringing of the phone at ten o'clock on a Friday morning. When I answered the phone, I immediately recognized the same very polite and very friendly voice of the secretary I had dealt with before.

"Mr. Devlin," she said, "Mr. Thorpe just called in. He wants you to meet him right away."

I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs of sleep. "Be right there," I mumbled.

"Oh, not at the office, Mr. Devlin. Mr. Thorpe wants you to meet him out in Queens. It's at the site of the new theater."

"All right," I said. "Gimme the address."

She gave me the address and directions how to get there, and while I wrote it down I realized that, in the whole month I had been in Jason Thorpe's employ this was the first time I even knew the location of where I would eventually be doing my work.

"Okay." I said "I'll be there within an hour."

There was a moment's hesitation at the other end of the line, then the secretary said, "Mr. Thorpe expects you right away, Mr. Devlin."

"You already told me that," I snapped.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Devlin," she continued in the same polite and friendly voice, "but Mr. Thorpe said he would expect you to be there in half an hour, which is about how long it should take you to get out there."

"Did Jason think I'd be sitting by the phone with my coat on waiting for his call?" I said, taking out my irritation on her. "I'll leave just as soon as I shave and have a cup of coffee. That okay with you?"

"Please, Mr. Devlin," she answered. "I'm just relaying Mr. Thorpe's orders."

I swallowed my anger. It wasn't her fault. "Sorry, honey," I said hastily. "I'm not too sociable until after my morning coffee."

"That's all right, Mr. Devlin. I understand."

"Look," I said, "you explain to Jason that I said I'll be there in about an hour, will you? If he raises a fuss, you can tell him you delivered the message just as he ordered."

"I'll do that, Mr. Devlin, but-" she paused and seemed to be groping for words "-make it as fast as you can, won't you?"

"Sure."

"Thank you, Mr. Devlin."

I said good-bye and hung up the phone and scratched at the stubble on my chin. Uneasiness stirred deep inside me. From the way the secretary had spoken, it was evident that she was afraid of Jason Thorpe. I began to wonder just what kind of a slave-driving boss he really was.

I didn't have much time to ponder on this, though-not if I wanted to be out there within the time I had promised. I had a sneaking suspicion that Jason might take it out on his secretary if I showed up too late. I put the coffee on, then went into the bathroom and took a quick shower and shave. I gulped down my coffee while I dressed, then left the building and caught a cab out to the address the secretary had given me.

I found Jason standing with a group of men at one corner of the square block that made up the theater site. They were busy looking over a stack of papers covered with figures, and around the site, surveyors were already at work. It was evident that Jason had set in motion the machinery to design and build his theater.

I waited patiently for a few moments, but Jason never noticed me. Finally, with a respectful cough, I said, "Hello, Jason."

He turned slowly, fixing a cold eye on me. He glanced at his watch and pursed his lips.

"Came as soon as I got your message, Jason," I said brightly.

He looked at me for a moment longer, and I began to understand why the secretary had sounded afraid over the phone. It was a different Jason that confronted me now than the Jason I had seen when I brought Carla to him, or when I had shaken hands with him and accepted his offer. This was now Jason Thorpe, my boss-and he was making sure I knew it.

I had a sudden hunch that this month of inactivity for me had been deliberately planned by Jason. It was his way of putting me under obligation to him, of making me feel just a little guilty about taking his money and doing nothing in return.

"What have you been doing this past month, Phil?" he said abruptly. His voice was flat, emotionless.

"Well...." I began, and then I could think of nothing to say.

Jason kept on looking at me, his eyes unblinking, regarding me coldly and steadily.

"I-I tried to reach you by phone, Jason," I stammered. I had been about to call him Mr. Thorpe, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crawl. We had started out on a first-name basis, and I was going to keep it that way.

"What else did you do, Phil?" he asked in that same flat voice.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Waited to hear from you, Jason."

He nodded his head slowly. "I see."

Once again, he just looked at me without saying anything, and all of a sudden I began to understand. Jason was using me just as I was using him. I had the connection with Carla. He wanted Carla for his new theater. It was as simple as two plus two-only I didn't like the way it was adding up. I had a feeling that Jason had not been idle this month. He probably had done some checking on me. He was too sharp a businessman not to check up on what I had done in the past. If he had checked, then he had found out that I had no real background as a director. I felt a chill run through me. I could see myself out of a job, kissing good-bye to five hundred beautiful dollars a week. Panic started to rise in me, and it took everything I had to fight it down.

"What did you want to see me about, Jason?" I asked, forcing a casual tone.

"Have you come across a suitable play for the new theater?" he said abruptly.

"A ... a play?"

"Yes."

"I-I didn't know you wanted me to start looking yet Jason."

"We talked about finding a suitable play for Miss Russell, didn't we?" His voice had hardened slightly. "Yes, but-"

"You mean you've taken no steps at all to find a play for the theater opening, Phil?"

"I was waiting to hear from you," I said quickly, getting the words out fast before I started to stammer

"Oh, you were waiting for me," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Look, Phil, when I hire someone I expect them to have enough initiative to go ahead and do their job without needing me to stand over them and tell them what to do every minute of the day."

"But, Jason-"

"Never mind," he said with an imperious wave of hand. "It makes no difference now. Just remember it for the future, Phil." He touched his white mustache delicately with his forefinger. "I'll tell you why you weren't able to reach me," he went on. "I was busy doing both our jobs, Phil-yours and mine." He made a sweeping motion with his arm to take in the entire theater site. "I've been getting things started with the theater, and believe me, Phil, this has required a lot of time and effort on my part. But, even with all this work, I still managed to find time to hunt around for a suitable play-while you apparently were doing nothing this month."

I winced, but said nothing.

"I've found the play," Jason announced.

"You have?"

"Yes. It's by a new playwright. Her name's June Wade."

"A new playwright?" I said. "An amateur?"

"I take it you've never heard of her," Jason said calmly.

"No, I haven't,"

"Doesn't matter. She's far from an amateur."

"Has she had any of her work produced?" I asked.

"Not on Broadway," Jason said. "She's had two plays produced out in the Midwest."

I nodded my head and decided not to say anything. If Jason thought this Julie Wade had written a good play, the least I could do was not to pan it until I had looked it over. For five hundred a week I could afford to keep my mouth shut.

Jason took a pad and small gold pencil from his pocket and scribbled on the pad. He tore off the sheet and handed it to me.

"Here's her address and phone number. I've set up an appointment for late tomorrow afternoon-four-thirty, to be exact. You call her tomorrow and confirm it, then meet with her and read her play. It's called The Wanderer. I think it's a good play-needs some work on it, but it has definite possibilities."

I took the sheet of paper from him and folded it and put it in my wallet. "Okay, Jason," I said in a very business-like tone. "I'll read the play and let you know what I think of it"

He looked at me steadily for a long moment. "You do that, Phil," he said softly. "Remember, though, I don't want you rejecting it just because Miss Wade isn't a Broadway professional. As I told you, I think the play has possibilities." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, then said, "So, if you think the play won't make the grade ... well, I'll expect some very good reasons for rejection. Do you understand, Phil?"

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded my head silently. I understood, all right. Jason had selected this play, and this was the one he wanted to produce. He was just going through the motions of asking me to read it over. He had already made up his mind. My job now would be to agree with him and then to help the author work on the play and get it into shape.

"Fine!" Jason said. "I'm glad you understand." He glanced at his watch. "I'll be out of town for the weekend. You go see Miss Wade tomorrow, and I'll get in touch with you again some time after I get back."

He turned from me and rejoined the group of men who were still busy studying and discussing the figures on that stack of papers.

I had been dismissed.

For a moment, wild anger seethed in me. I clenched my fists and thought of how good it would feel to walk over and give Jason a good, swift kick in the pants, and then just turn away from him as he had from me. But I fought down the urge. I had five hundred good reasons for keeping my temper.

I turned abruptly and started walking, my fists still clenched, my face flaming hot. I walked fast, not looking where I was going. After a while, I found myself on Queens Boulevard, and I stopped and lit a cigarette and drew in a deep breath of smoke.

I knew now just where I stood with Jason Thorpe.

He had given me one full month to enjoy the taste of freedom while I drew ray pay for doing nothing and now he had cracked down on me. I was certain now that he had checked up on me during that month, and I knew he was keeping me on for only one reason-Carla. As long as Jason was convinced that he could use my connection with Carla to get her to star in the play, I was safe. If I wanted to keep my job, I had to make Jason keep on thinking that, without me, he couldn't get Carla.

It wasn't going to be easy. I could see that now.

I could see a few other things, too.

I could see why his secretary was afraid of him and probably all his other employees as well. It wasn't hard to understand because I, too, was afraid of him now. And the thing that brought about this fear was the knowledge that, with a few well chosen words, Jason could put me out of work. I'd already had a taste of what it felt like to earn five hundred a week, and that taste had been more than enough to make an addict out of me. I knew I'd do anything short of murder to keep on making that kind of money.

So this is what it felt like, I thought. This is what it felt like to be owned by Jason Thorpe. You were well paid-but he could make you feel like dirt any time he wanted to.

And you took it.

You took it because there was no other choice-if you wanted to keep on pulling in the big money every week.

I dropped my cigarette to the sidewalk and ground it under the toe of my shoe. I hailed a taxi and got in and gave the driver my address, knowing that if it hadn't been for Jason and his money, I wouldn't be able to ride in a taxi, nor would I be living in the nicer section of town where I now had my apartment.

I felt sick to my stomach.

But, I told myself, it was worth an upset stomach now and then to have the sort of money that Jason Thorpe handed out.

I wasn't going to give it up.