Page 13 of Storm of Bells
‘You agree?’
‘Most definitely.’
‘Good!’ He patted my shoulder. ‘Then yournext task as soon as we return to the office will be to brush upyour calligraphy skills.’
He had disappeared into the stairwell beforeI could think of a reply.
Damn the man!
Sparks flying from my eyes, I rushed afterhim and up the stairs. When, at the top, I stepped out into acorridor, I just caught sight of the tail-ends of his coatdisappearing into a room before the door closed. Marching to thedoor, I threw it open.
‘Now listen here, you! If you think—!’
My voice cut off.
Mr Ambrose was sitting opposite twomiddle-aged, very important-looking gentlemen in colourful vests,around a big conference table, a stack of documents in front ofhim. Turning to gaze at me, he cocked his head.
‘Yes, Mr Linton?’
I clenched my fists, mentally counted to ten,and unclenched them again.
‘If you think this is the right room, I’llcome in now, Sir.’
‘I do. Enter.’
‘Thank you, Sir.’And prepare yourself.Vengeance shall be mine.
Stepping inside, I settled down at a cornerof the table. Karim stepped in behind me, closed the door, andstood in front of it with crossed arms, seeming determined todefend it against any invading army that happened to passthrough.
‘Where was I?’ the taller of the twodistinguished gentlemen asked, throwing me an annoyed look.
Mr Ambrose pinned him with his arctic gaze.‘You were about to explain why your brilliant advertising campaignhas resulted in a sales increase of exactly zero point zero twofive per cent, Mr Humphreys.’
‘Ah. Um. Yes, that.’
‘Well?’
‘You see, Sir, you have to understand thatunder current market conditions…’
Mr Humphreys launched into a long speech thatcontained words like ‘yield management’, ‘adnorm’ and ‘categorydevelopment index’. Occasionally, Mr Byrd threw in a comment about‘collateral materials’ or ‘galley proofs’. It was all a bit hard tofollow, particularly since a fly who was buzzing around Karim’shead, contemplating whether to settle down on his nose, held a lotmore interest for me. The plucky little insect and he werecurrently engaged in a staring contest. I could almost hear theirunspoken dialogue.
‘Don’t you dare! That is my nose. Don’tyou dare sit down!’
‘Ha! I’ll do anything I want to, bigone!’
I was rooting for the fly.
Still, a part of my mind tried to follow MrHumphreys’ speech on advertising. Apparently, there was this newsubstance on the market, some plant extract or other, which MrAmbrose’s subordinates had put into various food products, and thefirm was having really big trouble getting the average person onthe street interested in this strange stuff.
The poor little fly retreated under Karim’sglare and buzzed off to another corner of the room. Disappointed, Iturned my attention back to the conversation, and nudged MrHumphreys. ‘What was the name of this stuff you’re trying to sellagain?’
Mr Humphreys threw me a superior look.
‘Please try to follow, young man,’ he scoldedme. ‘This is a serious business meeting of important, highlyrespected businessmen, and we do not countenance interruptions. Wemust determine a valid business strategy on how to best sell ourcocaine.’
‘Cocaine…hmm…’ I rolled the strange namearound in my mouth. ‘Have you tried handing out free samples?’
Mr Humphrey rolled his eyes. ‘That’s theoldest trick in the book, young man! That would never work!’
