As they walked the corridor to the conference room, he looked over at her and said, “How was the news of my supposed accident on the Riviera received?”
“At first, we were upset,” she told him. “We were all aghast—” she hesitated—“except possibly Sheila, Chase, and Moyer. But then, of course, your announcement came through that it was all a case of mistaken identity.”
He grunted. They reached the Central Committee’s conference chamber and a page opened the door for them.
Inside, all the rest were already seated around the heavy oaken table. They were chattering among themselves, two or three more heatedly.
Sheila Duff-Roberts looked up from her papers and said tartly, “Well, Jerry, late as usual, I see.”
Jerry Auburn slid into his chair, while Lee took her place next to the committee’s secretary. He said, “This will be the last time that will irritate you, Ms. Duff-Roberts.”
The majestically proportioned woman looked at him, frowning. “What do you mean by that?”
The buzz about the table fell off as the committee members turned their attention to the two.
Jerry said evenly, “The body of Pamela McGivern has been discovered. After you fired her she began motoring home to Dublin. She was overtaken by a car driven by professional assassins, and run over a mountainside. This type of killing seems to be the latest thing among the pros these days. At any rate, the corpse was hidden, but inadequately.”
“That’s terrible,” Sheila said, seemingly shocked.
“It certainly is,” Jerry told her. “It looks as though our Pamela knew too much, so she was turned over to the mercies of Peter Windsor and his boss, the Graf.”
All eyes were on him now, a beginning of alarm in those of Harrington Chase and John Warfield Moyer.
Jerry said, “Both Windsor and the Graf are now dead, and Mercenaries, Incorporated dissolved. I was present and heard their last words.”
The amazon secretary’s face was ashen.
Jerry Auburn went on. “By Central Committee rules, any three members of the committee can remove a secretary. Members Mendel Amschel and Fong Hui got together with me before this meeting and we duly removed Sheila Duff-Roberts.”
She was on her feet in fury. She turned blazing eyes to Chase and Moyer, who sat side by side. “Are you going to put up with this?” she demanded.
The big Southwestemer was glaring at Jerry. “It seems precipitous! The rest of us have not been consulted.”
Jerry said, completely at ease, “The case of Pamela McGivern is not unique. Harold Dunninger’s kidnap death was also engineered by Peter Windsor’s men, and that attempt on me which resulted in the death of my brother. In short, ladies and gentlemen, we have narrowly missed imposing on Mother Earth a World Police State, a state more ruthless than any in history, if only because of its universal scope.”
Mendel Amschel said quietly to Sheila Duff-Roberts, “And now, if you will leave? If any changes are made in our actions involving you, you will immediately be informed.”
She stormed from the room.
The international banker turned his eyes back to Jerry Auburn. “And now, if you will go into the various matters you discussed with Mr. Fong and me earlier today?”
Jerry made himself still more comfortable in his chair. He looked around at the committee members one by one. “If you will excuse the youngest member of this body taking so much time, I will excuse myself by pointing out my recent escape from planned assassination, because I was opposed to certain tendencies recently developing in the World Club. I was also, ah, active in removing the late Lothar von Brandenburg, and it was my agents who discovered what happened to Pamela McGivern.”
“Go on,” Nils Norden, the Swedish industrialist, said impatiently.
Jerry said, “It has been pointed out that the Central Committee is composed almost exclusively of males, of whites, of westerners, especially Americans, and totally of the wealthy.”
“That’s as it should be!” Chase boomed, his voice belligerent.
“Is it?” Jerry looked at him. “We meet today to elect a new member to replace Grace Cabot-Hudson. I suggest that we replace not one but four of our membership. I am of the opinion that our goals have shifted from the founding days of our organization and that we should return to them. A world state I think desirable, but not under the domination of the World Club. We should return to investigating the possibilities of the future and even making recommendations, but forswear any attempt to come to power ourselves.”
“That’s nonsense,” the usually taciturn Moyer blurted. “Who could be more capable than ourselves to govern a world state?”
“Who are we to say?” the Chinese murmured softly.
“I propose,” Jerry said, “that we invite a representative of the Space Federation of Lagrangia and the Asteroid Belt Islands to join the Central Committee. It is ridiculous to divorce them from Earthside affairs. Secondly, I suggest that we invite a member of the Wobblies, preferably a woman, since we are so short of female members.”
“The Wobblies,” Chase boomed. “Those subversives! Those half-assed radicals! They’re against everything we stand for.”
“That’s why we ought to invite them in—to get opinions other than our usual conservatism. Thirdly, I think we should have a representative from the Anti-Racist League. We are talking about a world social order, and surely the so-called colored races are in the overwhelming majority.”
“Now I know you’ve blown a fuse, Auburn,” Chase shouted. “A representative from the Anti-Racist League! He’d undoubtedly be a black. We’ve already got a kike and a chink on this committee and that’s too much! Now you’d invite a nigger!”
That ran across the grain with even the usually conservative Nils Norden. “You can be repulsive when you really try, Chase,” said Norden.
“Fourth,” Jerry pressed on, “we should have another woman representing women’s rights. There’s still a great deal to be done in that direction, especially in the more backward countries that will eventually be part of the new world society.”
The chunky Moyer said, his voice reasonable, “Central Committee rules allow for only ten members on the Central Committee so that it doesn’t become unwieldly. Only one is resigning—our respected Grace Cabot-Hudson. Where is the space for all these nominees of yours, Auburn?”
“I propose that three of us resign.”
“Who?” Chase blurted, still red of face. “I suppose you are thinking of me! Well, think again!”
Jerry was cool. “I propose that the three be Harrington Chase, John Moyer, and myself. If such resignations are not immediately forthcoming, I shall go further into the details of the deaths of Harold Dunninger, Pamela McGivern, and the attempt to assassinate me.”
Silence fell. And continued for long moments.
Finally, the heavyset Chase pushed himself to his feet. He growled to Moyer, “Done! Come on, John, let’s get the hell out of this madhouse. They’ve gone completely around the bend.”
When they were gone, there was still long silence.
But then, “Why you, Jeremiah?” It was Fong Hui, his voice typically gentle. “I have always thought of you as a dependable younger member of the committee. Too many of us are elderly.”
Jerry looked over at the aged Chinese. “Because, my honorable friend, had I not offered my own resignation, then undoubtedly Chase and Moyer would have fought, and then everything would have broken into the open and possibly the new World Club would never have seen the light of day. Indeed, the old one would have probably gone under.” He looked off into an unseen distance and added, his voice low, “Frankly, I’m a mixed-up sonofabitch. And you want to know something else? I suspect so is everybody else. That is, everybody who’s trying to make rhyme or reason out of this world we’ve got on our hands today.”
Meyer Amschel said, “It is with regret that I accept your resignation, Jeremiah. However, it occurs to me that perhaps you have some suggestions on those replacement
s for our suddenly depleted members.”
Jerry nodded at that and came to his feet. “I strongly suggest that Ms. Lee Garrett, though with us for such a short time, be appointed secretary to replace Duff-Roberts. She seems to have the qualifications.”
Lee sucked in breath in surprise.
“Further,” Jerry went on, “to represent the Space Federation, Ian Venner, who is at present in New York. I have no suggestion for the representative from the Wobblies, since I am not very well acquainted with their organization. And, of course, I can hardly recommend a representative for women’s rights, though I suggest she be an Oriental.”
Fong said, “And the representative of the Anti-Racist League?”
Jerry Auburn said, “From them I would strongly suggest a certain Horace Hampton.”
Deathwish World Page 36
