On Tuesday morning I hurried to work with great anticipation. Today was the day that Mr. Mostel was going to bring in the finished designs for the sample hands to work on. Today someone might try to borrow, steal, or copy them. Of course, if that someone was his son Ben, then why would he need to do it at the office? He could more easily take a peek at them at home in his father’s study—unless the old man kept them under lock and key.
I sat at my machine and worked with an eye on the door until Mr. Mostel came in.
“Here they are—my new designs,” he said, tapping his briefcase. “All finished and ready to go like I promised. And they are spectacular, if I say so myself. So different—so chic. You girls are going to be proud just to be working on them.” He looked around the room and was met by a lot of blank stares. Of course many of the girls just didn’t understand him, but those who did were not showing enthusiasm. Mostel smiled at us. “If you girls work hard and we get the first lot shipped by December first, there will a bonus all around. Then we’ll all have a good holiday with something to celebrate, won’t we?”
“A good holiday? He doesn’t even give us one day off over the eight days of Chanukah,” Sadie muttered to me. “He gives us Christmas Day off and what good is that to Jewish families?”
Mr. Mostel went up to his office and then returned. “Sam—I got to pop out for a while,” he called down the length of the room. “If the sample hands come in before I get back, tell them the designs are in the top drawer on the right. Got it? They can start work straightaway.”
He’s certainly laying it on thick, I thought. If I were the spy, I might begin to smell a rat.
“New designs. As if we care,” Sadie muttered to me. “A collar is a collar is a collar.”
We hadn’t been working long when the door opened again and Ben Mostel came in. With his top hat and silver-tipped cane he looked like a peacock in a henhouse.
“Morning, girls. You’re all looking very lovely today,” he said, picking out some of the younger, prettier girls to grace with his smile. A general titter followed him down the room.
“Your dad’s not here, Mr. Ben,” Sam called as Ben passed us in the direction of Mostel’s office.
“No matter. I just wanted to leave something for him,” Ben said.
I was on my feet instantly. “I need to go to the washroom, Sam,” I said. “It’s really urgent. Can I go?”
“Okay, I’ll give you permission this once,” he said. “Only don’t make a habit of it.”
“How come she gets permission when I don’t?” Sadie asked.
“Because she ain’t running in and out all day like some I could mention, including you,” Sam said. He jerked his head to me. “Go on then, if you’re going.”
I sprinted through the door like a girl who has to go in a hurry. I even opened the washroom door, went in, and closed it behind me, just in case Sam was still watching me. Then I opened it a crack, checked around it, and was up the stairs like a shot. The door to Mostel’s office was open and Ben was so busy looking in one of the drawers in his father’s desk that he didn’t hear me coming.
“Did you find what you are looking for?” I asked.
He spun around with a guilty look on his face.
“Your father has worked hard to give you all the benefits he never had,” I went on, “and this is how you repay him?”
“Who the hell are you, and how did you know?”
“I’ve been watching you, Ben Mostel,” I said. I was enjoying this moment, confident that I could run down the flight of steps ahead of him and was within shouting distance of a roomful of girls. “What do you think your father would say if he knew you were betraying him to Lowenstein?”
Without warning he came around the desk and while I was still thinking I might have to defend myself after all, he closed the door.
“What do you want?” he hissed at me. “Is it money? Is that it? All right then, how much?” He reached for his wallet.
I was no longer feeling quite as brave as I had been, but I decided I was still within shouting distance.
“Since all the money you have comes from your father and he is paying me in this Lowenstein business, I don’t require to be paid twice over,” I said.
Ben looked puzzled and horrified. “My father is paying you to follow me? He must have heard about me and Letitia then. You can tell him he doesn’t have to worry—it’s nothing serious. Just a bit of fun, you know.”
He was talking very fast, his eyes darting nervously like a schoolboy caught at the cookie jar.
“What do you mean, it’s not serious—betraying your father to his rival?”