[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
treble shifts.'
'So what is your suggested solution?'
'I know that joining the Association has always been anathema to you -'
'You're damned right it has,' Randolph interrupted.
'But, Mr Clare, there really isn't any other way. If we lose Sun-Taste, we
won't be able to support our investment programme and the next thing we know,
we'll have to start closing plants.'
'Neil,' said Randolph, 'this company was founded on the philosophy of
independence and free competition and as long as I'm in charge of it, it's
going to stay true to that philosophy.'
'I'm sorry, Mr Clare, but right now I believe that the philosophy of
independence and free competition - at least in the case of Clare Cottonseed -
is pretty well bankrupt. And so will the company be if we don't wake up to the
fact that times have changed and that we're part of an interdependent
industry.'
'The strong helping the weak, is that it?' Randolph asked, sarcastically
quoting Waverley Graceworthy.
'Well, if you like,' Neil agreed, oblivious to the bitterness in Randolph's
voice. 'The business community pulling together for the greater good of every
participating member -'
'Neil, you're beginning to sound like an after-dinner speech at the Memphis
Chamber of Commerce.'
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'But there isn't any future in remaining independent, Mr Clare,' Neil
protested, sitting forward in his chair. 'And after everything that's happened
- your family, the fire out at Raleigh -'
Randolph leaped to his feet with such violence that he knocked his chair over.
He could feel the fury roaring up inside of him, so hot and spontaneous that
he was almost blinded by it. He was not furious with Neil alone. He was
104
furious with everything and everybody. With Marmie's murder most of all; with
the killing of his children; with the factory fire that had forced him to
abandon his family and destroyed years of skilful and patient work; with Orbus
Greene and Waverley Graceworthy; with the heat; with the wine that had gone to
his head; and with the whole damned world in which he had suddenly found
himself alone. With God.
'Do you think for one moment that losing my family and losing the most
important business contract we've had in seventeen years is going to do
anything - anything! - but make me ten times more determined?' he shouted.
Neil edged back on the seat of his chair and dropped his gaze to the floor. Tm
sorry, Mr Clare. I should have realized that you weren't ready to discuss this
yet.'
Randolph was picking up his chair. 'Neil, you listen. I'm not ready today, and
I won't be ready tomorrow, and I won't be ready the day after that, nor ever.
This company stays independent and that's all there is to it.'
Neil said nothing but fiddled with the binding of the file he was holding on
his lap.
'I simply won't discuss it,' Randolph shouted.
'And what if the other plants catch fire? The Frank C. Pidgeon plant? The
Harbor Plant? What then?'
Randolph slowly sat down again. The sun was beginning to sink westward towards
the city skyline and to make sparkling patterns in the leaves of the tulip
trees. A strange time of day, he thought: gentle and regretful. He watched
Neil sharply, feeling oddly suspicious of him now, and in a way, almost
frightened.
'You'll have to make yourself clearer,' he said.
'How clear does anything have to be?' Neil demanded. 'It was clear from the
moment you undercut the Association's prices that they were going to want to
put you out of business. I told you that myself, sir, when you recruited me
from Chickasaw. All you could say was, "There's room for everybody to make a
buck," the same thing your father used to say. Well, I have news for you, Mr
Clare. The
105
cottonseed business has changed since your father's day. There just aren't
enough bucks to go around.'
Randolph said, 'You don't have to give me a grade-school lesson in modern
commodities, thank you, Neil. When I asked you to make yourself clearer, I was
asking you if you thought the Association was really behind that fire at
Raleigh.'
'You seemed to be pretty convinced yourself that it was when you talked to
Orbus Greene out at the factory.'
'Having an opinion is not the same as having legal evidence, Neil. Besides,
Orbus Greene always provokes me.'
'Well, I don't have any legal evidence, Mr Clare, and Orbus Greene didn't
necessarily set that fire or have anything to do with it. Almost all of the
smaller processors feel aggrieved by the tactics you've been using:
undercutting their prices, headhunting their staff. Every ounce of cottonseed
that we process at rock-bottom prices means one ounce less of business for
Chickasaw Cotton, or De-Witt Mills, or Mississippi Natural Fibres, or any of
those medium- to small-sized plants.'
'That's still no justification for arson.'
'No, sir, it isn't. But it's an explanation.'
Randolph was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'It's no justification for
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homicide either.'
'Sir?' asked Neil, frowning.
'Why are you so surprised?' Randolph asked. He felt as if he were swimming
through dangerous waters now, untried currents, but he had plunged in and
there was no choice left to him but to continue. 'If anyone from one of those
medium- to small-sized plants felt sufficiently aggrieved to set fire to my
wintering plant at Raleigh and sacrifice the lives of three of my process
workers, why shouldn't that same individual feel that a very effective way of
warning me off in person would be multiple homicide? Murdering my family while
I was busy taking care of the fire. I mean, has that thought ever occurred to
you, Neil? That the fire was not only set to disrupt our production of
processed
106
cottonseed oil, but to make it imperative for me to leave my family all alone
in an isolated cabin in a remote part of the Laurentide forest? Or maybe that
was the sole purpose of the fire at Raleigh: a diversion to bring me rushing
back to Memphis.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
treble shifts.'
'So what is your suggested solution?'
'I know that joining the Association has always been anathema to you -'
'You're damned right it has,' Randolph interrupted.
'But, Mr Clare, there really isn't any other way. If we lose Sun-Taste, we
won't be able to support our investment programme and the next thing we know,
we'll have to start closing plants.'
'Neil,' said Randolph, 'this company was founded on the philosophy of
independence and free competition and as long as I'm in charge of it, it's
going to stay true to that philosophy.'
'I'm sorry, Mr Clare, but right now I believe that the philosophy of
independence and free competition - at least in the case of Clare Cottonseed -
is pretty well bankrupt. And so will the company be if we don't wake up to the
fact that times have changed and that we're part of an interdependent
industry.'
'The strong helping the weak, is that it?' Randolph asked, sarcastically
quoting Waverley Graceworthy.
'Well, if you like,' Neil agreed, oblivious to the bitterness in Randolph's
voice. 'The business community pulling together for the greater good of every
participating member -'
'Neil, you're beginning to sound like an after-dinner speech at the Memphis
Chamber of Commerce.'
Page 51
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
'But there isn't any future in remaining independent, Mr Clare,' Neil
protested, sitting forward in his chair. 'And after everything that's happened
- your family, the fire out at Raleigh -'
Randolph leaped to his feet with such violence that he knocked his chair over.
He could feel the fury roaring up inside of him, so hot and spontaneous that
he was almost blinded by it. He was not furious with Neil alone. He was
104
furious with everything and everybody. With Marmie's murder most of all; with
the killing of his children; with the factory fire that had forced him to
abandon his family and destroyed years of skilful and patient work; with Orbus
Greene and Waverley Graceworthy; with the heat; with the wine that had gone to
his head; and with the whole damned world in which he had suddenly found
himself alone. With God.
'Do you think for one moment that losing my family and losing the most
important business contract we've had in seventeen years is going to do
anything - anything! - but make me ten times more determined?' he shouted.
Neil edged back on the seat of his chair and dropped his gaze to the floor. Tm
sorry, Mr Clare. I should have realized that you weren't ready to discuss this
yet.'
Randolph was picking up his chair. 'Neil, you listen. I'm not ready today, and
I won't be ready tomorrow, and I won't be ready the day after that, nor ever.
This company stays independent and that's all there is to it.'
Neil said nothing but fiddled with the binding of the file he was holding on
his lap.
'I simply won't discuss it,' Randolph shouted.
'And what if the other plants catch fire? The Frank C. Pidgeon plant? The
Harbor Plant? What then?'
Randolph slowly sat down again. The sun was beginning to sink westward towards
the city skyline and to make sparkling patterns in the leaves of the tulip
trees. A strange time of day, he thought: gentle and regretful. He watched
Neil sharply, feeling oddly suspicious of him now, and in a way, almost
frightened.
'You'll have to make yourself clearer,' he said.
'How clear does anything have to be?' Neil demanded. 'It was clear from the
moment you undercut the Association's prices that they were going to want to
put you out of business. I told you that myself, sir, when you recruited me
from Chickasaw. All you could say was, "There's room for everybody to make a
buck," the same thing your father used to say. Well, I have news for you, Mr
Clare. The
105
cottonseed business has changed since your father's day. There just aren't
enough bucks to go around.'
Randolph said, 'You don't have to give me a grade-school lesson in modern
commodities, thank you, Neil. When I asked you to make yourself clearer, I was
asking you if you thought the Association was really behind that fire at
Raleigh.'
'You seemed to be pretty convinced yourself that it was when you talked to
Orbus Greene out at the factory.'
'Having an opinion is not the same as having legal evidence, Neil. Besides,
Orbus Greene always provokes me.'
'Well, I don't have any legal evidence, Mr Clare, and Orbus Greene didn't
necessarily set that fire or have anything to do with it. Almost all of the
smaller processors feel aggrieved by the tactics you've been using:
undercutting their prices, headhunting their staff. Every ounce of cottonseed
that we process at rock-bottom prices means one ounce less of business for
Chickasaw Cotton, or De-Witt Mills, or Mississippi Natural Fibres, or any of
those medium- to small-sized plants.'
'That's still no justification for arson.'
'No, sir, it isn't. But it's an explanation.'
Randolph was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'It's no justification for
Page 52
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
homicide either.'
'Sir?' asked Neil, frowning.
'Why are you so surprised?' Randolph asked. He felt as if he were swimming
through dangerous waters now, untried currents, but he had plunged in and
there was no choice left to him but to continue. 'If anyone from one of those
medium- to small-sized plants felt sufficiently aggrieved to set fire to my
wintering plant at Raleigh and sacrifice the lives of three of my process
workers, why shouldn't that same individual feel that a very effective way of
warning me off in person would be multiple homicide? Murdering my family while
I was busy taking care of the fire. I mean, has that thought ever occurred to
you, Neil? That the fire was not only set to disrupt our production of
processed
106
cottonseed oil, but to make it imperative for me to leave my family all alone
in an isolated cabin in a remote part of the Laurentide forest? Or maybe that
was the sole purpose of the fire at Raleigh: a diversion to bring me rushing
back to Memphis.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]