The Big Clock Page #6

Six years, isn't it?

Uh, seven.

Shoulder-to-shoulder,

comrades in arms, neither

letting the other down.

And we've forged ahead.

Now this,

uh, Fleming story,

properly followed up,

should boost circulation

Oh, 15.

That's the spirit.

I know you'll squeeze

every ounce out of it.

I'll give you

carte blanche

for the next month.

Play it for drama

and suspense.

Use anybody

in the organization.

Wait a minute.

Did you say "next month"?

Then your vacation,

all expenses paid,

South America...

West Virginia

and tonight.

George.

You really had me goin'

until I began to gag

over that soft soap.

I'll dispense

with the soap.

George, you'll see this through

with us or you're finished

with Janoth Publications.

That's okay with me.

And I'll have you, uh,

blacklisted

all over the country.

You'll never work

on another magazine

or any other publication.

It's still okay.

I'll give you six minutes

to reconsider.

I don't need them.

I don't need six seconds.

Good afternoon, Miss Adams.

How's that baby of yours?

Fine.

Splendid.

Mr. Stroud?

Yes.

There's someone on the line

for you... a woman.

What's her name?

She won't say. I think

she's selling something.

Keeps talking

about telling your fortune.

Oh, put her on.

Yes, sir.

How are ya?

Wanna make a bet?

Five-to-one your crystal ball

hasn't given ya

the latest flash.

I have been fired

as of 5:
22 this afternoon,

name inscribed in gold letters

at the head of the blacklist,

never to work

in publishing again.

- What are you going to do?

- First, I'm goin' out to get a stiff drink.

Good. I'll join you.

I'm sorry, but I have

to go on my vacation.

But this is business.

You see, he thinks he's

gonna blacklist me too,

but I know enough about

Mr. Janoth to make him change

his mind about both of us.

You'll find it to our benefit

to meet me at the Van Barth

in, say, about a half an hour?

If you think it's

that important, I'll drop by.

Another martini, please.

Pardon me, please.

Same for me.

And what

do you think she does?

She marries her sponsor.

Excuse me.

All right.

Can you imagine?

Just because a fella doesn't

like red ink, he fires him.

Earl hates green.

Oh, he does?

Bartender, bring us

two more stingers, and this time

make them with green mint.

With green mint?

Green mint.

That's what the boy said.

Oh, no.

George, at the office,

did you ever use

the confidential files?

I practically lived in 'em.

That's what

I was hoping.

You know, Earl has

a passion for obscurity.

He won't even

have his biography

in Who's Who.

Sure. He doesn't want to let

his left hand know whose pocket

the right one is picking.

I think

we can remedy that.

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