Something in the Air by Emma Lathen

Author:Emma Lathen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: -
Publisher: Simply Media
Published: 2016-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Stormy Petrels

Monday was not a wonderful day at Sparrow, either. The CEO was back at the helm, trading had been resumed, and the usual flights were taking off. Unfortunately, too few people had noticed the colorless account of Mitch Scovil’s release, Sparrow stock was stalled at a disappointing 29 7/8, and most of the work force was still reliving Pittsburgh.

For the first time since Sparrow’s inception, Scovil flinched at the prospect of appearing in public.

“I’m scrubbing my trip to New York,” he announced. “You’d better handle the bond dealers’ meeting, Clay.”

Batchelder hesitated. He was uncomfortably aware that bond dealers were a long way from his usual responsibilities.

“Just your being there would prove the cops let you go,” he pointed out.

“And half of Wall Street would think I’m out on bail,” Scovil rejoined savagely. “Look, it’s just a couple of days, and you could knock off Islington, too. You wanted to see him about the new specs, anyway.”

“Hell, it’s not the time, Mitch. But I’m no good at talking finances to the big-money men.”

Scovil’s face cleared. “Forget about that, Clay,” he urged. “The important thing now is to make sure that everybody in New York knows that the police are finally moving in the right direction. And it’s going to sound a lot more persuasive coming from you than from me.”

Batchelder was relieved at this change in emphasis.

“Now that I can do,” he promised.

Phoebe Fournier took one look at Joe Cleveland and braced herself.

“So nothing could possibly go wrong,” he greeted her.

She flushed, remembering her unequivocal assurances in the airplane hangar. “All right, all right, things got out of hand.”

“That’s one way of describing it.”

“It’s not my fault if a couple of drunks went ape.”

“There are always drunks at Thanksgiving.”

“They don’t always run around taking hostages.”

At this impasse, they both settled back on their heels and glared at each other. Joe, however, had barely begun his indictment.

“And what about the famous press release? I haven’t heard anything about that.”

Here Phoebe felt she was on firmer ground. “The release was never central,” she informed him. “It was only an explanation for the public if they asked for one. But the main point of the exercise was to put pressure on Mitch. Now that he knows we can shut him down, he’ll listen to reason.”

“You can forget that tune, Phoebe. Mitch has got bigger things to worry about.”

“Are you talking about the police goof on Friday? They let him go right away,” she countered. “So that’s all over.”

“Mitch came within an inch of being arrested for murder, and it could still happen. He has to concentrate on that,” said Joe. “We’ve got to face facts. Pittsburgh was a washout.”

Phoebe was not ready to concede this point.

“I suppose you think you could manage things better,” she said.

“No, I wouldn’t be any good at it. But we’d get a lot farther if you stopped trying to manipulate everybody.”

The word was a red flag.

“I am not manipulative!” she snapped.

“Oh yeah? You were going to use Alan Whetmore and he turned out to have ideas of his own.

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