Page 24 of Storm of Bells
‘My mind?’ I widened my eyes. ‘Nothing.Nothing is going through there at all.’
‘Hm.’ He gave me another suspicious look—thenstepped away from the window and glanced down at his desk. Adocument lay there, written in crisp, clear handwriting. At thevery top I could read the pre-printed wordsLetter ofDismissal.
‘Let’s proceed, shall we?’ Sitting down, hebegan to examine the document. ‘Everything seems to be in order.But before I proceed to signing—’
‘Before you proceed to signing, you shouldwait, Sir.’
Mr Ambrose’s hand, half-outstretched towardshis pen, froze in mid-air. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.
‘Pardon, Mr Linton? What did you say?’
‘I said you should wait.’ I raised my chin.‘At least a week or two.’
‘And why, pray, should I do that?’
‘You’re making a judgement on my advertisingcampaign based solely on your personal assessment. You taught methat judgement in business should be based on one thing, and onething only.’
I didn’t say what. I didn’t need to.
‘Success.’
‘Indeed, Sir.’
For a long moment, silence reigned in theroom—then he withdrew his hand from the pen. I tried not to breathea sigh of relief.
‘And you think I should give you a whole weekto see if your product becomes successful?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘My clocks tick faster than yours, Mr Linton.Knowledge is power is time is money. However…’ He stroked one longfinger along his chiselled chin. ‘However, no one can say that I amnot fair.’
I blinked. ‘They can’t?’
He gave me a cool look. ‘No. Theycan’t.’
‘Oh.’
One never ceases to learn.
‘Which is why I have already called forsomeone from the sales department to bring me the latest salesfigures on your…confectionaries before I dismiss you. Perhaps itwill teach you a lesson.’
A knock came from the door.
‘Ah. That will be him. Enter!’
The door opened cautiously, and a young manstuck his head inside. ‘Err…may I, Mr Ambrose?’
My dear fiancé’s hand jerked once, waving theman in. ‘Yes, yes, Ellis. Come in. Do you have the figures of howmuch money this atrocious scheme has cost me?’
Stepping in, Ellis cleared his throat. ‘Well,yes…in a way, Sir. And no.’
‘What do you mean, man? Speak clearly!’
The young man clutched the folder in his handas if it were a protective shield. And, actually, it might not do abad job as a shield. For a folder listing zero profit, it wasastonishingly thick.
‘Well, um, Sir…I have the numbers, but…’ Theyoung man clutched the folder even closer. ‘But they may not beexactly what you…what you…’
‘Give that here, man!’ Reaching across thedesk, Mr Ambrose snatched the folder out of the young man’s grasp.Flipping it open, he began to peruse the first page. ‘Now let’s seehow much this mania has… cost…me…’
