EMMA BARRINGTON
1942
38
‘GOOD MORNING, MR GUINZBURG,’ said Sefton Jelks as he rose from behind his desk. ‘It is indeed an honour to meet the man who publishes Dorothy Parker and Graham Greene.’
Guinzburg gave a slight bow, before shaking hands with Jelks.
‘And Miss Barrington,’ said Jelks, turning to Emma. ‘How nice to see you again. As I am no longer representing Mr Lloyd, I hope we can be friends.’
Emma frowned, and sat down without shaking Jelks’s outstretched hand.
Once the three of them were settled, Jelks continued. ‘Perhaps I might open this meeting by saying I thought it would be worthwhile for the three of us to get together and have a frank and open discussion, and see if it were possible to come up with a solution to our problem.’
‘Your problem,’ interjected Emma.
Mr Guinzburg pursed his lips, but said nothing.
‘I am sure,’ continued Jelks, focusing his attention on Guinzburg, ‘that you will want to do what is best for all concerned.’
‘And will that include Harry Clifton this time?’ asked Emma.
Guinzburg turned to Emma and gave her a disapproving grimace.
‘Yes, Miss Barrington,’ said Jelks, ‘any agreement we might reach would certainly include Mr Clifton.’
‘Just as it did last time, Mr Jelks, when you walked away at the time he most needed you?’
‘Emma,’ said Guinzburg reproachfully.
‘I should point out, Miss Barrington, that I was doing no more than carrying out my client’s instructions. Mr and Mrs Bradshaw both assured me that the man I was representing was their son, and I had no reason to believe otherwise. And of course I did prevent Tom from being tried for—’
‘And then you left Harry to fend for himself.’
‘In my defence, Miss Barrington, when I finally discovered that Tom Bradshaw was in fact Harry Clifton, he begged me to keep my counsel, as he didn’t want you to discover that he was still alive.’
‘That’s not Harry’s version of what happened,’ said Emma, who appeared to regret her words the moment she’d said them.
Guinzburg made no attempt to mask his displeasure. He looked like a man who realizes his trump card has been played too soon.
‘I see,’ said Jelks. ‘From that little outburst, I must assume you have both read the earlier notebook?’
‘Every word,’ said Emma. ‘So you can stop pretending you only did what was in Harry’s best interests.’
‘Emma,’ said Guinzburg firmly, ‘you must learn not to take things so personally, and try to consider the bigger picture.’
‘Is that the one where a leading New York lawyer ends up in jail for falsifying evidence and perverting the course of justice?’ said Emma, her eyes never leaving Jelks.
‘I apologize, Mr Jelks,’ said Guinzburg. ‘My young friend gets quite carried away when it comes to—’
‘You bet I do,’ said Emma, now almost shouting, ‘because I can tell you exactly what this man –’ she pointed at Jelks – ‘would have done if Harry had been sent to the electric chair. He would have pulled the lever himself if he thought it would save his own skin.’
‘That is outrageous,’ said Jelks, jumping up from his seat. ‘I had already prepared an appeal that would have left the jury in no doubt that the police had arrested the wrong man.’
‘So you did know it was Harry all along,’ said Emma, sitting back in her chair.
Jelks was momentarily stunned by Emma’s rebuke. She took advantage of his silence.
‘Let me tell you what’s going to happen, Mr Jelks. When Viking publishes Harry’s first notebook in the spring, not only will your reputation be shattered and your career in ruins, but, like Harry, you’ll discover at first hand what life is like at Lavenham.’
Jelks turned to Guinzburg in desperation. ‘I would have thought it in both our interests to reach an amicable settlement before this whole affair gets out of hand.’
‘What do you have in mind, Mr Jelks?’ asked Guinzburg, trying to sound conciliatory.
‘You’re not going to give this crook a lifeline, are you?’ said Emma.
Guinzburg raised a hand. ‘The least we can do, Emma, is hear him out.’
‘Just as he heard Harry out?’
Jelks turned to Guinzburg. ‘If you felt able not to publish the earlier notebook, I can assure you I would make it worth your while.’
‘I can’t believe you’re taking this seriously,’ said Emma.
Jelks continued to address Guinzburg as if Emma wasn’t in the room. ‘Of course, I realize that you stand to lose a considerable amount of money if you decide not to go ahead.’
‘If The Diary of a Convict is anything to go by,’ said Guinzburg, ‘over a hundred thousand dollars.’
The figure must have taken Jelks by surprise, because he didn’t respond.
‘And there’s also the twenty-thousand-dollar advance that was paid to Lloyd,’ continued Guinzburg. ‘That will have to be reimbursed to Mr Clifton.’
‘If Harry were here, he’d be the first to tell you that he’s not interested in the money, Mr Guinzburg, only in making sure that this man ends up in jail.’
Guinzburg looked appalled. ‘My company has not built its reputation on scandal-mongering, Emma, so before I make a final decision on whether or not to publish the notebook, I have to consider how my more distinguished authors might react to a publication of that kind.’
‘How right you are, Mr Guinzburg. Reputation is everything.’
‘How would you know?’ demanded Emma.
‘While we’re on the subject of distinguished authors,’ continued Jelks a little pompously, ignoring the interruption, ‘you may be aware that my firm has the privilege of representing the F. Scott Fitzgerald estate.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I remember so well Scotty telling me that if he were to change publishers, he would want to move to Viking.’
‘You’re not going to fall for that line, are you?’ said Emma.
‘Emma, my dear, there are times when it is wise to take the long view.’
‘How long have you got in mind? Six years?’
‘Emma, I’m only doing what is in everyone’s best interests.’
‘It sounds to me as if what you’re doing will end up in your best interests. Because the reality is that once money becomes involved, you’re no better than him,’ she said, pointing at Jelks.
Guinzburg appeared wounded by Emma’s accusation, but quickly recovered. He turned to the lawyer and asked, ‘What do you have in mind, Mr Jelks?’
‘If you’ll agree not to publish the first notebook in any form, I would be happy to pay compensation, equivalent to the sum you have earned for The Diary of a Convict and, on top of that, I would repay in full the twenty thousand dollars you advanced to Mr Lloyd.’
‘Why don’t you just kiss me on the cheek, Mr Guinzburg,’ said Emma, ‘and then he’ll know who to give the thirty pieces of silver to.’
‘And Fitzgerald?’ said Guinzburg, ignoring her.
‘I will grant you the publishing rights of the F. Scott Fitzgerald estate for a period of fifty years, on the same terms as his current publisher.’
Guinzburg smiled. ‘Draw up a contract, Mr Jelks, and I’ll be happy to sign it.’
‘And what pseudonym will you use when you sign the contract?’ asked Emma. ‘Judas?’
Guinzburg shrugged his shoulders. ‘Business is business, my dear. And you and Harry won’t go unrewarded.’
‘I’m glad you mention that, Mr Guinzburg,’ said Jelks, ‘because I’ve been holding a cheque for ten thousand dollars made payable to Harry Clifton’s mother for some time, but because of the outbreak of war I had no way of getting it to her. Perhaps, Miss Barrington, you would be kind enough to give it to Mrs Clifton when you return to England.’ He slid the cheque across the table.
Emma ignored it. ‘You would never have mentioned that cheque if I hadn’t read about it in the first notebook, when you gave Harry your word that you’d send Mrs Clifton ten thousand dollars once he agreed to take the place of Tom Bradshaw.’ Emma stood up, before adding, ‘You both disgust me, and I only hope I never come across either of you again in my life.’
She stormed out of the office without another word, leaving the cheque on the desk.
‘Headstrong girl,’ said Guinzburg, ‘but I’m sure, given time, I’ll be able to convince her we made the right decision.’
‘I feel confident, Harold,’ said Jelks, ‘that you’ll handle this minor incident with all the skill and diplomacy that have become the hallmark of your distinguished company.’
‘That’s kind of you to say so, Sefton,’ said Guinzburg as he rose from his chair and picked up the cheque. ‘And I’ll make sure that Mrs Clifton gets this,’ he added, placing it in his wallet.
‘I knew I could rely on you, Harold.’
‘You most certainly can, Sefton, and I look forward to seeing you again, once the contract has been drawn up.’
‘I’ll have it ready by the end of the week,’ Jelks said as they left the room together and walked down the corridor. ‘Surprising we haven’t done any business before.’
‘I agree,’ said Guinzburg, ‘but I have a feeling this is just the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Jelks when they reached the lift. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as the contract is ready to sign,’ he added as he pressed the down button.
‘I’ll look forward to that, Sefton,’ said Guinzburg, and shook Jelks warmly by the hand before stepping into the lift.
When the lift reached the ground floor, Guinzburg stepped out, and the first thing he saw was Emma heading straight for him.
‘You were brilliant, my dear,’ he said. ‘I confess that for a moment I wondered if you’d gone a little too far with your comment about the electric chair, but no, you’d got the measure of the man,’ he added as they strolled out of the building arm in arm.
Emma spent most of the afternoon sitting alone in her room rereading the first exercise book, in which Harry had written about the time before he was sent to Lavenham.
As she turned each page and was made aware once again what he had been willing to put himself through in order to release her from any obligation she might feel she owed him, Emma resolved that if she ever found the idiotic man again, she wouldn’t let him out of her sight.
With Mr Guinzburg’s blessing, Emma became involved with every aspect of publishing the revised edition of The Diary of a Convict, or the first edition, as she always referred to it. She attended editorial meetings, discussed the cover lettering with the head of the art department, chose the photograph that would go on the back cover, wrote the blurb about Harry for the inside flap and even addressed a sales conference.
Six weeks later, boxes of books were transported from the printer by rail, truck and plane to depositories all across America.
On publication day, Emma was standing on the pavement outside Doubleday’s waiting for the doors of the bookstore to open. She was able to report to Great-aunt Phyllis and Cousin Alistair that evening that the book had been running out of the shop. Confirmation of this came in the form of the New York Times bestseller list the following Sunday, when the revised edition ofThe Diary of a Convict appeared in the top ten after only a week’s sales.
Journalists and magazine editors from all over the country were desperate to interview Harry Clifton and Max Lloyd. But Harry couldn’t be found in any penal establishment in America, while Lloyd, to quote The Times, was unavailable for comment. The New York News was less prosaic when it ran the headline, LLOYD ON THE LAM.
On the day of publication, Sefton Jelks’s office issued a formal statement making it clear that the company no longer represented Max Lloyd. Although The Diary of a Convict hit the number one spot on the New York Times bestseller list for the next five weeks, Guinzburg kept to his agreement with Jelks and did not publish any extracts from the earlier notebook.
However, Jelks did sign a contract giving Viking the exclusive right to publish all of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s works for the next fifty years. Jelks considered that he’d honoured his side of the bargain and that, given time, the press would become bored with the story and move on. And he might have been right if Time magazine hadn’t run a full-page interview with the recently retired Detective Karl Kolowski of the New York Police Department.
‘And I can tell you,’ Kolowski was quoted as saying, ‘that so far they’ve only published the boring bits. Just wait until you read what happened to Harry Clifton before he arrived at Lavenham.’
The story hit the wires around 6 p.m. Eastern Time, and Mr Guinzburg had received over a hundred calls by the time he walked into his office the following morning.
Jelks read the article in Time as he was driven to Wall Street. When he stepped out of the lift on the twenty-second floor, he found three of his partners waiting outside his office.