39
‘WHICH DO YOU want first?’ asked Phyllis, holding up two letters. ‘The good news or the bad news?’
‘The good news,’ said Emma without hesitation, as she buttered another piece of toast.
Phyllis placed one letter back on the table, adjusted her pince-nez and began to read the other.
Dear Mrs Stuart,
I’ve just finished reading The Diary of a Convict by Harry Clifton. There was an excellent review of the book in the Washington Post today, which towards the end posed a question about what happened to Mr Clifton after he left Lavenham Correctional Facility seven months ago, having completed only a third of his sentence.
For reasons of national security, which I am sure you will appreciate, I am unable to go into any great detail in this letter.
If Miss Barrington, who I understand is staying with you, would like any further information concerning Lieutenant Clifton, she is welcome to contact this office, and I will be happy to make an appointment to see her.
As it does not breach the Official Secrets Act, may I add how much I enjoyed Lieutenant Clifton’s diary. If the rumours in today’s New York Post are to be believed, I can’t wait to find out what happened to him before he was shipped off to Lavenham.
Yours sincerely
John Cleverdon (Col.)
Great-aunt Phyllis looked across to see Emma bouncing up and down like a bobbysoxer at a Sinatra concert. Parker poured Mrs Stuart a second cup of coffee, as if nothing unusual was taking place a few feet behind him.
Emma suddenly stood still. ‘So what’s the bad news?’ she asked, sitting back down at the table.
Phyllis picked up the other letter. ‘This one is from Rupert Harvey,’ she declared. ‘A second cousin, once removed.’ Emma stifled a laugh. Phyllis observed her critically over her pince-nez. ‘Don’t mock, child,’ she said. ‘Being a member of a large clan can have its advantages, as you’re about to discover.’ She turned her attention back to the letter.
Dear cousin Phyllis,
How nice to hear from you after all this time. It was kind of you to draw my attention to The Diary of a Convict by Harry Clifton, which I thoroughly enjoyed. What a formidable young lady cousin Emma must be.
Phyllis looked up.
‘Twice removed in your case,’ she said before returning to the letter.
I’d be delighted to assist Emma in her current dilemma. To that end: the Embassy has an aircraft that will be flying to London next Thursday, and the Ambassador has agreed that Miss Barrington can join him and his staff on the flight.
If Emma would be kind enough to drop by my office on Thursday morning, I will make sure that all the necessary paperwork is completed. Do remind her to bring her passport with her.
Yours affectionately,
Rupert
PS. Is cousin Emma half as beautiful as Mr Clifton suggests in his book?
Phyllis folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope.
‘So what’s the bad news?’ demanded Emma.
Phyllis bowed her head, as she did not approve of displays of emotion, and said quietly, ‘You have no idea, child, how much I shall miss you. You are the daughter I never had.’
‘I signed the contract this morning,’ said Guinzburg, raising his glass.
‘Congratulations,’ said Alistair, as everyone else around the dinner table raised their glasses.
‘Do forgive me,’ said Phyllis, ‘if I appear to be the only one among us who doesn’t fully understand. If you signed a contract that prevents your company from publishing Harry Clifton’s earlier work, what exactly are we celebrating?’
‘The fact that I put one hundred thousand dollars of Sefton Jelks’s money into my company’s bank account this morning,’ Guinzburg replied.
‘And I,’ said Emma, ‘have received a cheque for twenty thousand dollars from the same source. Lloyd’s original advance for Harry’s book.’
‘And don’t forget the cheque for ten thousand you failed to pick up for Mrs Clifton, which I retrieved,’ said Guinzburg. ‘Frankly, we’ve all done very well out of it, and now the contract has been signed, there will be even more to come, for the next fifty years.’
‘Possibly,’ said Phyllis, taking the high ground, ‘but I’m more than a little irked that you’ve allowed Jelks to get away with murder.’
‘I think you’ll find he’s still on Death Row, Mrs Stuart,’ said Guinzburg, ‘though I accept we’ve granted him a three-month stay of execution.’
‘I’m even more confused,’ said Phyllis.
‘Then allow me to explain,’ said Guinzburg. ‘You see, the contract I signed this morning wasn’t with Jelks, but with Pocket Books, a company who have bought the rights to publish all Harry’s diaries in softback.’
‘And what, may I ask, is a softback?’ said Phyllis.
‘Mama,’ said Alistair, ‘softbacks have been around for years now.’
‘So have ten-thousand-dollar bills, but I’ve never seen one.’
‘Your mother makes a fair point,’ said Guinzburg. ‘In fact, it could explain why Jelks was taken in, because Mrs Stuart represents an entire generation who will never come to terms with books being published in softback, and would only ever consider reading a hardback.’
‘What made you realize that Jelks was not fully acquainted with the concept of a softback?’ asked Phyllis.
‘F. Scott Fitzgerald was the clincher,’ said Alistair.
‘I do wish you wouldn’t use slang at the dinner table,’ said Phyllis.
‘It was Alistair who advised us,’ said Emma, ‘that if Jelks was willing to hold a meeting in his office without his legal assistant present, it must mean he hadn’t alerted his partners to the fact there was a missing notebook, and that if it were published it would be even more damning to the firm’s reputation than The Diary of a Convict.’
‘Then why didn’t Alistair attend the meeting,’ said Phyllis, ‘and make a record of everything Jelks said? After all, that man is one of the slipperiest lawyers in New York.’
‘Which is precisely why I didn’t attend the meeting, Mother. We didn’t want anything on the record, and I was convinced that Jelks would be arrogant enough to think that all he was up against was a slip of a girl from England and a publisher he was sure he could bribe, which meant we had him by the short and curlies.’
‘Alistair.’
‘However,’ Alistair continued, now in full flow, ‘it was just after Emma had stormed out of the meeting that Mr Guinzburg displayed a moment of true genius.’ Emma looked puzzled. ‘He told Jelks, “I look forward to seeing you again, once the contract has been drawn up.”’
‘And that’s exactly what Jelks did,’ said Guinzburg, ‘because once I’d gone over his contract, I realized it was modelled on one that had originally been drawn up for F. Scott Fitzgerald, a man who was only ever published in hardback. There was nothing in that contract to suggest that we couldn’t publish in softback. So the sub-contract I signed this morning will allow Pocket Books to publish Harry’s earlier diary, without breaking my agreement with Jelks.’ Guinzburg allowed Parker to refill his glass with champagne.
‘How much did you make?’ demanded Emma.
‘There are times, young lady, when you push your luck.’
‘How much did you make?’ asked Phyllis.
‘Two hundred thousand dollars,’ admitted Guinzburg.
‘You’ll need every penny of it,’ said Phyllis, ‘because once that book goes on sale, you and Alistair will be spending the next couple of years in court defending yourself against half a dozen libel writs.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Alistair after Parker had poured him a brandy. ‘In fact, I’d be willing to bet that ten-thousand-dollar bill you’ve never seen, Mama, that Sefton Jelks is now spending his last three months as the senior partner of Jelks, Myers and Abernathy.’
‘What makes you so sure of yourself?’
‘I have a feeling Jelks didn’t tell his partners about the first notebook, so when Pocket Books publish the earlier diary, he will be left with no choice but to hand in his resignation.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘Then they’ll throw him out,’ said Alistair. ‘A firm which is that ruthless with its clients won’t suddenly become humane with its partners. And don’t forget, there’s always someone else who wants to be senior partner . . . So, I’m bound to admit, Emma, you’re far more interesting than Amalgamated Wire—’
‘—versus New York Electric,’ said the others in unison, as they raised their glasses to Emma.
‘And should you ever change your mind about staying in New York, young lady,’ said Guinzburg, ‘there’ll always be a job for you at Viking.’
‘Thank you, Mr Guinzburg,’ said Emma. ‘But the only reason I came to America was to find Harry, and now I discover that he’s in Europe while I’m stranded in New York. So once I’ve had my meeting with Colonel Cleverdon, I’ll be flying home to be with our son.’
‘Harry Clifton’s a damn lucky man to have you in his corner,’ said Alistair wistfully.
‘If you ever meet either of them, Alistair, you’ll realize that I’m the lucky one.’