King's Ransom [antikvár]

1 'We want your voting stock, Doug' Outside the window boats sailed up and down the River Harb. In the clear October air, orange and gold leaves screamed their colour against the cold blue sky. The room was full of cigarette smoke. It hung over the five men like the breath of ghosts. The room was enormous, but it was full now, full of the dirty ash-trays, used glasses and empty bottles left at the end of a long and difficult discussion. The men themselves were as exhausted as the smoky air. Tired but determined, the men sitting opposite Douglas King hammered out their argument. King listened to them silently. 'We're asking you to think about profit, Doug, that's all,' George Benjamin said. 'Is that a lot to ask?' 'Think of shoes, yes,' Rudy Stone said. 'Don't forget shoes. But think of profit. Granger Shoe is a business, Doug, a business. Profit and loss. The black and the red.' 'And our job,' Benjamin said, 'is to keep Granger in the black. Now take another look at these shoes.' A thin man, he moved fast and silently to a glass table, which was covered with women's shoes. He picked one up from the pile and gave it to King. 'What woman wants to buy a shoe like this?' he asked. 'Don't misunderstand us,' Stone said quickly. He was a muscular blond man who looked much younger than his forty-five years. 'It's a good shoe, a fine shoe, but we're thinking of profit now.' 1