you haven’t been altogether honest with us the past few weeks?”
Jonathan was momentarily stunned. “Of course not. I’ll be able to deliver her exactly as I promised. It just might take a little longer, that’s all. Believe me, I want this deal to come through as badly as you.”
“I’m sure you do. But, as the saying goes, time is money. If you don’t deliver, we’ll go somewhere else, after calling in our loan and possibly bankrupting you, of course. Actually, it’s not such a bad idea. One hotel less to compete with.”
“Please, Mr. Martin, there’s no reason to do anything rash. I just need some time to talk to her, that’s all. I’m sure that once she’s aware of just how bad the situation is, I’ll be able to get her to see things my way.”
“All right. I’ll give you until tomorrow. If not, I’ll speak to her myself and, I might add, find my own president of the corporation if she agrees to see things my way without your help.”
Jonathan sat up sharply. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Mr. Martin.”
“Fine,” Nick said and he stood up to leave. “Oh, one more thing, Mr. Lawrence,” he said as he reached the door, “I trust that from now on you will be totally on the up and up with us regarding what’s happening here, that you won’t be holding anything back. If there’s anything my people in New York like less than surprises, I can’t think of it.”
For a split second Jonathan flinched as he thought about the cholera possibility. If Nick ever found out he was keeping that from him—but how could he? Only he, Sid Bronstein and Bruce Solomon knew about it and there was hardly any way their paths would cross.
“No surprises. I promise.”
“Good. Then I’ll be in touch.”
As Nick closed the door, Jonathan sat back and took a deep breath. Somehow everything seemed to be going wrong. It wasn’t fair. But then again, it never was. And it never had stopped him before.
six
The tension, the electricity, the anticipation. It was everywhere, and Bruce Solomon couldn’t help being caught up in it. He was genuinely looking forward to the evening ahead but at the same time felt a nagging guilt that perhaps there was still something more he should be doing to track down the possible carriers. After all, he wasn’t at the Congress to have a good time. Then again, there was really nothing more he could do until he got the results of the lab tests from New York. Besides, he rationalized, the better he understood what went on at the hotel, the more effective and less likely he would be to overlook anything of importance. At any rate, there was nothing to be gained from sitting alone in his room and brooding.
Feeling almost justified, he let himself luxuriate in the pulsating waters of the sunken marble tub. The hotel did so many things to make a guest feel rich and pampered, even when stuck in a modest room like his. The bathrooms were filled with dispensers of various shaving lotions, shampoo and French colognes. The beds had built-in vibrators. By merely dialing a specified number one could order a masseur or masseuse to the room, get the latest weather forecast, set up tennis, golf or dancing lessons, reserve a table in the night club or order gourmet specialties and drinks from the kitchen or bar. It was, for most, a fantasy come true.
The gala “Welcome Cocktail Party” was due to begin in fifteen minutes. His cousin Sid had mentioned that men often dressed for it in formal attire and Bruce hoped that his blazer, gray slacks and ascot combination, the best he could come up with with two hours notice, wouldn’t make him look too much like the hick he was beginning to feel he was.
He rubbed a dab of hair tonic into his curly black hair, giving it a sheen many women would envy. He began to feel better about himself. Twirling a short strand that fell haphazardly on his forehead, he looked at his image roguishly in the mirror. It could be worse. “Go get ’em,
Jonathan was momentarily stunned. “Of course not. I’ll be able to deliver her exactly as I promised. It just might take a little longer, that’s all. Believe me, I want this deal to come through as badly as you.”
“I’m sure you do. But, as the saying goes, time is money. If you don’t deliver, we’ll go somewhere else, after calling in our loan and possibly bankrupting you, of course. Actually, it’s not such a bad idea. One hotel less to compete with.”
“Please, Mr. Martin, there’s no reason to do anything rash. I just need some time to talk to her, that’s all. I’m sure that once she’s aware of just how bad the situation is, I’ll be able to get her to see things my way.”
“All right. I’ll give you until tomorrow. If not, I’ll speak to her myself and, I might add, find my own president of the corporation if she agrees to see things my way without your help.”
Jonathan sat up sharply. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Mr. Martin.”
“Fine,” Nick said and he stood up to leave. “Oh, one more thing, Mr. Lawrence,” he said as he reached the door, “I trust that from now on you will be totally on the up and up with us regarding what’s happening here, that you won’t be holding anything back. If there’s anything my people in New York like less than surprises, I can’t think of it.”
For a split second Jonathan flinched as he thought about the cholera possibility. If Nick ever found out he was keeping that from him—but how could he? Only he, Sid Bronstein and Bruce Solomon knew about it and there was hardly any way their paths would cross.
“No surprises. I promise.”
“Good. Then I’ll be in touch.”
As Nick closed the door, Jonathan sat back and took a deep breath. Somehow everything seemed to be going wrong. It wasn’t fair. But then again, it never was. And it never had stopped him before.
six
The tension, the electricity, the anticipation. It was everywhere, and Bruce Solomon couldn’t help being caught up in it. He was genuinely looking forward to the evening ahead but at the same time felt a nagging guilt that perhaps there was still something more he should be doing to track down the possible carriers. After all, he wasn’t at the Congress to have a good time. Then again, there was really nothing more he could do until he got the results of the lab tests from New York. Besides, he rationalized, the better he understood what went on at the hotel, the more effective and less likely he would be to overlook anything of importance. At any rate, there was nothing to be gained from sitting alone in his room and brooding.
Feeling almost justified, he let himself luxuriate in the pulsating waters of the sunken marble tub. The hotel did so many things to make a guest feel rich and pampered, even when stuck in a modest room like his. The bathrooms were filled with dispensers of various shaving lotions, shampoo and French colognes. The beds had built-in vibrators. By merely dialing a specified number one could order a masseur or masseuse to the room, get the latest weather forecast, set up tennis, golf or dancing lessons, reserve a table in the night club or order gourmet specialties and drinks from the kitchen or bar. It was, for most, a fantasy come true.
The gala “Welcome Cocktail Party” was due to begin in fifteen minutes. His cousin Sid had mentioned that men often dressed for it in formal attire and Bruce hoped that his blazer, gray slacks and ascot combination, the best he could come up with with two hours notice, wouldn’t make him look too much like the hick he was beginning to feel he was.
He rubbed a dab of hair tonic into his curly black hair, giving it a sheen many women would envy. He began to feel better about himself. Twirling a short strand that fell haphazardly on his forehead, he looked at his image roguishly in the mirror. It could be worse. “Go get ’em,
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