“The same as you always got it. In a couple of days, when my collections come in. What are you guys hollering about? You’ll get your dough.”
“Yeah? We been hearing that for a long time, Bogen.”
“We want it now.”
“We want checks, Bogen, and we want them now.”
I looked at them quickly, hesitating. But in a moment I had made up my mind. This was no time to crawl. There was only one way to play this.
“That’s just too bad about you guys,” I said. “You’ll get your dough when my collections come in, and not before. How do you like that?”
McKee took the cigar out of his mouth and took a step toward me.
“I’ll tell you how we like it,” he said. “We’re calling a creditors’ meeting this afternoon.”
“Suits me,” I said. “Call a meeting and I’ll show you guys that this is a one hundred per cent liquid business. You’ll get your dough. What are you guys hollering about? What am I all of a sudden, the first dress manufacturer on Seventh Avenue that was ever slow in his payments? Go ahead, call your meeting. I’ll be glad of the chance to show the whole creditor body the kind of a business we got here. Go ahead. Call your meeting for to-morrow morning first thing.”
“Nothing doing,” McKee said. “This afternoon.”
“I can’t make it to-day,” I said. “Make it to-morrow morning.”
Can you beat that? Here I am on the home stretch, I’ve got an appointment with Martha to go pick out the bracelet, so of all the days in the year, these bastards have to pick this day to get tough!
“No, Bogen,” McKee said, “that meeting is for this afternoon.”
“Sorry, gentlemen. I’ve got an appointment with a buyer this afternoon. Make it for to-morrow morning, and I’m with you.”
Babushkin put his hand on my arm.
“Go ahead, Harry. Make it for this afternoon. Let’s see what’s what. Make it for this afternoon, Harry.”
“Your partner’s right, Bogen. You better be there this afternoon.”
If those rummies thought I was going to take the chance of ruining a four months’ foundation by letting them throw me off my stride now, they were crazy.
“Listen, you guys,” I said, talking tough. “We’ve got thirty thousand dollars’ worth of sun tan dresses on the racks. I’ve got an appointment this afternoon with the buyer for the biggest mail-order house in the country. Just remember that it’s getting on toward the end of the summer. If we don’t move those dresses off our racks now, they’ll never move. And if we get stuck with all those dresses, then you guys’ll be up the creek for good. You’ll never get your dough. This buyer is interested and it looks like she’ll take the whole lot. She’s making a Chicago train at three o’clock this afternoon. To-morrow is too late. Buyers don’t wait, and you guys know it. That’s why I can’t go to that meeting this afternoon. You guys call that meeting for to-morrow morning, any time tomorrow, I don’t care, and I’ll be there.”
“Nothing doing, Bogen. We’re on to your tricks. That meeting is for this afternoon.”
“Well,” I said with a shrug, “that’s just too bad about you guys. Because I’m not gonna be there.”
“Oh, no? If you’re not there, Bogen, it’s going to be just too bad about you, not us.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t frighten me, gentlemen. What are you gonna do, kidnap me and carry me there?”
“We don’t have to kidnap you, Bogen. If you’re not at that meeting this afternoon, we’ll put you into bankruptcy.”
“Aah, stop the oil, will you? Who do you think you’re talking to, a kid?”
“I’m warning you, Bogen. If you’re not there, we’re going to file a petition against you.”
“Go ahead, file!” I said, tipping my hat back on my head and waving my hand at them. “You guys can’t bluff me. This business is liquid and we can pay one hundred cents on the dollar. You guys aren’t scaring me.”
“We’re warning you, Bogen.”
“Stop the crap, will you?” I said. “You’re losing weight.”
35
THE RINGING OF THE telephone woke me. I looked at my watch. Twenty after seven. Who could be calling me at this hour? I took the receiver off the little table beside the bed.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Harry? Who’s this, Harry? Is that you, Harry?”
It was Babushkin, his voice full of excitement.
“Yeah, Meyer, it’s me. What’s the matter?”
“Oh, thank God, Harry. I been trying to get you since last night. Why didn’t you come back to the office? Where were you all night? I been ringing you all night till after one. I thought maybe I’d get you in if I called this morning, so I—”
“For God’s sakes, Meyer,” I cried. “Stop hollering like that. I’m not deaf. What happened? What are you talking about?”
“They filed a petition, Harry. They—”
“They what?” I yelled.
“They filed a petition like they said they’d—”
“Why, the dirty son of a bitches!”
“Harry! Harry, what—?”
“Meyer!” I said sharply. “Meyer!”
“Yeah, Harry, what—?”
“Shut-up!” I barked, “and listen, will you?”
“All right, Harry, what—?”
“Shut-up!” I shouted. “And listen, will you?”
No answer.
“Hello? Hello, Meyer?”
“Hello,” he said in a lower voice.
“Where are you now?” I asked.
“Home.”
“When were you in the place last?”
“Yesterday in the afternoon. Right after the meeting. I went back. I thought maybe you’d be there, Harry. I wanted to tell you—”
“What happened at the meeting? They ask you any questions?”
“Yeah, they—”
“What’d they ask? What’d they ask you?”
“All about the business. They asked about the orders, how many we had on hand, how much stock we had, how much was out at contractors, how—”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, a few other things. Nothing special, just a few things about—”
“They ask anything about withdrawals?”
“Withdrawals?”
“Yeah, yeah, withdrawals. They ask anything about us taking out any money, or anything like that?”
“No, Harry, they didn’t—”
Well, that was something.
“All right, Meyer,” I said. “You can tell me the rest when I see you. Right now, just listen. You listening?”
“Yeah, Harry, I’m—”
“All right,” I said. “You’re home now, right?”
“That’s right, Harry.”
“It’s now”—I looked at my watch—“half-past seven. How long does it take you to come down from the Bronx?”
“I don’t know, a half hour, maybe a little longer, maybe a little less. Why?”
“Well, say a half hour,” I said. “Don’t you leave the house until eight or a few minutes after, understand? Then come right down to the place. That means you ought to get there about eight-thirty. Right?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“All right,” I said. “When you get there, don’t speak to anybody. Keep your mouth shut and don’t say a word. Just go right into my private office. I’ll be waiting there for you. Understand?”
“Yeah.”
“So remember, Meyer, before I hang up. Leave your house at about eight, and when you get to the place, don’t talk to anybody, nobody, understand? Just go right into my private office. I’ll be there. Okay?”
“Okay, Harry.”
“Now, remember, don’t talk to anybody.”
“Okay, Harry.”
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll see you at eight-thirty.”
I hung up and hopped out of bed. I picked up the house phone and spoke to the doorman. “Get me
a cab. I’ll be down in ten minutes. Have it waiting for me.”
I dressed quickly, but carefully. I don’t care what’s going on, I still don’t like to look like I went to sleep in my clothes.
“Fourteen Hundred Broadway,” I told the driver. “Go over to Broadway, and then down. Stop at the first newsstand.”
The first two didn’t have it. But I knew one of them further downtown would have it.
“Got a Daily News Record?” I asked at the next one.
“Yes, sir.”
“All right,” I told the driver. “Now Fourteen Hundred.”
Not that I thought Babushkin was kidding or anything like that. But I just didn’t think they’d really do it. I thought they were trying to bluff me. There it was, though, on page six, under Business Troubles.
APEX MODES, INC. 1400 BROADWAY. Harry Bogen, Pres. An involuntary petition in bankruptcy was filed yesterday against Apex Modes, Inc., manufacturers of women’s and misses’ evening wear. The petitioning creditors were D. G. Dommelick & Co., $12,039.50, Mandel Laces, Inc., $8,422.29, and Commercial Factors Corp., $5,500.00. The creditors’ committee, headed by Earle J. McKee of D. G. Dommelick & Co., has retained the accounting firm of Seidman & Turletzky to make an audit of the books of the debtor concern. Liabilities are estimated at $80,000.00.
The showroom door was locked, but I had a key. As I opened it, the Holmes signal went off. A man in a derby, with a cigar in his mouth, jumped up from the couch when I came in.
“Hey, there,” he called, “where do you—?”
“It’s okay,” I said, walking over to the Holmes box and giving the answering signal. “Keep your pants on. My name is Bogen. I’m the president of the firm. Who’re you?”
“I’m the custodian. You can’t—”
“It’s okay,” I said, “it’s okay. Just don’t get excited. I’m not walking out with anything. Here’s my card.”
While he read it, I went into the office. I sat down at the switchboard and dialed a number. There was no answer. It was still too early. I reached for the telephone book to look up his home number, when the board buzzed. I plugged in.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello? Who’s this, Bogen? That you, Bogen?”
“Yeah, Golig. I just called your office. But there was no answer.”
“Yeah, well, listen. I was eating breakfast just now, and I was looking through the paper, and I saw it. I called you right away.”
That’s the kind of a lawyer to have.
“That’s fine,” I said. “I’m glad you called. Can you come right down here?”
“Sure.”
“How soon can you be here, Golig?”
“What time is it now, ten after eight? I’ll just call one of my girls at her home and tell her where I’m going, and then I’ll come right down. I’ll be there about half past, maybe a few minutes later, maybe twenty to nine.”
“Okay, Golig,” I said. “I’ll be here waiting. I’ll have Babushkin here, too.”
“All right. How does it look, Bogen?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you,” I said. “But don’t worry about a fee, Golig. I’ve got that salted away.”
“I wasn’t worrying about it, Harry.” Maybe he wasn’t. “I’ll be right down.”
For the next call I connected an outside wire to my private phone and went in to make it. I closed the door and sat down at my desk and dialed Riverside 9-0437.
She answered the phone right away. And her voice was wide-awake, too.
“Hello, Martha?”
“Yes, Harry.”
Her voice was something else besides wide-awake. It was a perfect ad for an electric refrigerator.
“I’ll tell you why I called you, Martha.”
“Why?”
“We’ll have to postpone that shopping trip for a couple of days,” I said. “In fact, I won’t be seeing you for a little while.”
“I thought that’s why you called,” she said.
Apparently she read the papers, too.
“Interesting little paper, the News Record, isn’t it?” I said.
“It’s not bad,” she said. “It gives you the news. Short and sweet.”
“Well, don’t believe everything you read, Martha.”
“No?”
“No-o-o,” I said, spreading the word out. “When I see you in a few days I’ll give you the real story.” And something else, besides.
“I’ll bet it’ll be good.”
“You can place that bet,” I said angrily. “You won’t lose any money on it.”
Who the hell was she, to start kicking?
“If that’s a guarantee,” she said, “you’d better put it in writing. According to the Daily News Record, your word isn’t so good to-day.”
“It’s good enough for me,” I said, and slammed the receiver down.
There was a commotion out in the showroom. I opened the door to take a look. Babushkin was arguing with the custodian.
“It’s all right,” I said. “He’s my partner. Come on in, Meyer.”
I closed the door and locked it.
“What are we gonna do, Harry? I don’t understand it. How could a thing like this happen, so all of a sudden? Everything looked so all right. What are we gonna do?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, pushing him into a chair. “Everything is gonna be okay. I just spoke to Golig and he’s coming right down. Don’t worry about it.”
“But Harry, what are we gonna do? What’ll we say when—?”
“You don’t say anything, Meyer. Let me do all the talking. If they ask you any questions, you don’t know from nothing. You were the factory man and I handled all the finances. You don’t know a thing. These crazy bastards think they got us up against the ropes, but they haven’t. Wait’ll the accountants finish with the audit. There’s a hundred cents on the dollar here and more. We’re solvent and the figures’ll show it. You take my word for it, Meyer, the first time this thing comes up for hearing, the petition’ll be dismissed. So don’t worry about it.”
“But Harry—”
“Now, Meyer, please. Don’t get excited. And just listen to me carefully. They haven’t got a thing on us and they won’t find anything, either. Because the figures and the books are absolutely one hundred per cent. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The only thing they might question you about, is those checks we drew and deposited in your personal account. But don’t worry about it. If they ask you any questions, you just say we used it for expenses. For payroll. And for things like that. That’s all. If they ask anything else, you just don’t know. You were the factory man, that’s all. Understand?”
He shook his worried face up and down.
“So don’t worry about it so much,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “Just remember those two things. If they ask about the personal account in the Manufacturers, we used the cash to pay bills and payroll. They ask you anything else, you just don’t know, that’s all. Tell them to ask me. Understand?”
“I understand, Harry.”
“All right,” I said, “let’s go.”
I helped him up and unlocked the door. The custodian was standing in the showroom arguing with Golig.
“It’s all right, there,” I said, walking toward him and moving Babushkin along with me.
“What the hell is he?” the custodian said, shaking his head toward Golig, “one of your partners, too?”
“No,” I said, “he’s my lawyer. He’s all right. Let him in.”
Golig walked toward me, and I put my hand on Babushkin’s shoulder once more.
“So you got that straight, Meyer,” I said, “haven’t you?”
“Yeah, Harry,” he said, shaking his head. “Okay.”
“Fine.” I turned to Golig. “Come into my private office, Golig,” I said.
36
FROM MY SEAT BETWEEN Babushkin and Golig at one side of the medium-sized room, I looked around. A long table stretched down the middle, with chairs all around
it. And at the far end, at a desk set at right angles to the table, his back to the windows, a heavy-set, good-looking goy, with gray-streaked hair, was bent over, writing busily.
“Is that the Referee?” I asked Golig in a whisper.
“That’s him,” Golig said. “John E. James in person.”
“He looks like a putt to me.”
“Yeah? Well, don’t kid yourself, Harry. He’s as smart as they come. Just don’t get wise. Answer all questions respectfully, understand?”
I nodded and continued my inspection. The man who sat at the end of the table, to the left of the Referee, was a stenographer. I could tell that by the pens and ruled paper and bell-shaped ink bottle he was laying out. But the little guy who sat facing him across the table, the one that looked like Ben Turpin, had me stopped.
“Who’s Handsome Dan?” I asked Golig.
“That’s Josh Siegel. He’s the attorney for the petitioning creditors.”
“You mean he’s going to examine?”
Golig nodded.
I began to feel a little better. I had expected a courtroom, with a judge and a jury and what not. Instead, we were in this single room, on the eighteenth floor of an ordinary office building on Pine Street, surrounded by as choice an assortment of heels as you could find anywhere. I felt so relieved, that when I caught McKee’s eye, where he sat among other creditors across the room from me, I even smiled at him. He didn’t smile back.
At about ten o’clock the Referee stopped writing and looked up.
“What matter is this?” he asked.
“Apex Modes, Inc.” the stenographer said. “Twenty-one-A examination.”
“All right. Go ahead.”
Golig picked up his brief case and moved over to the table, facing Siegel. He spread his papers and sat back.
“Mr. Harry Bogen,” Siegel called.
I got up and walked to the chair at the head of the table, to the right of the Referee, facing the stenographer.
“Raise your right hand,” the Referee said. I did. “Do you swear to tell the truth in the matter of”—he glanced down at the papers in front of him—“in the matter of Apex Modes, Inc.?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Proceed,” the Referee said.
I sat down.
“What is your full name, Mr. Bogen?” Siegel asked.
I Can Get It for You Wholesale Page 30
