"I believe that covers everything," Weede Denney said. "I'm taking a big silver bird to the Coast this afternoon. I should be back Wednesday. Any problems, Mrs. Kling knows how to reach me. Have a nice weekend and a pleasant Christmas."
"Officially sanctioned," somebody said as a footnote to something.
Weede went into the private toilet adjoining his office. We picked up the paper cups, moved the chairs to their original positions and tidied up in general, reluctant to leave these small tasks to Mrs. Kling, who over the years had managed to become one of the most feared individuals in the company. On the way to my office I stopped by Hallie Lewin's desk and massaged her neck. She was typing a memo marked confidential. I could see that my name was not on the routing list.
"How was the meeting, David?"
"Ended in the usual fistfight. What do you want for Christmas, Hallie?"
"An abortion," she said.
"What's that you're typing?"
"Get away. You're not supposed to look at that."
"Is it about me?" I said, moving my hands down her back.
"You're the last person around here who has anything to worry about. Really. I've been hearing good things about you, David."
I followed Quincy Willet and Jones Perkins down the corridor, snapping my fingers lightly and bouncing on my toes. Quincy needed a haircut.
"Did you hear?" Jones said. "Merrill hired a Negro. Blaisdell met him yesterday. Said he seems like a nice clean-cut guy."
"Let's go look at him," Quincy said.
I went around to my office. Binky followed me in. She wasn't wearing a brassiere, I noticed. She skipped over to the sofa and bounced on it a few times before settling down. She always let out a bit on Friday. I sat behind the desk.
"What's new?" I said.
"Somebody named Wendy Judd called. She wants you to call back."
"What else?"
"Warren Beasley called. No message."
"What else?"
"Your father wants you to meet him at the Grand Prix at twelve-thirty."
"What else?"
"That's all," she said. "How was the meeting?"
"Ended in the usual fistfight. Phelps Lawrence didn't show up. I guess they gave him the news already."
"Have you heard the latest? It's really getting wild."
"What?" I said.
"Mars Tyler and Reeves Chubb."
"What about them?"
"The ax."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"I'm not supposed to tell," she said.
"Binky baby."
"Hallie Lewin told me about Reeves. Penny Holton told me about Mars."
"Who's Penny Holton?"
"Carter Hemmings' secretary."
"The one with stereophonic tits?"
"David. Don't be crappy now."
"Her breasts point to opposite ends of the room."
"Isn't it something though?" Binky said.
"That's not all," I said. "Carter Hemmings may be next. It's just a rumor right now so don't say anything."
"I won't."
"Also I noticed that Chandler Bates had his door closed when I went by his office just a minute ago. I mentioned it casually to Jody and she said it's been closed all morning."
"What do you think it means?"
"He's either firing somebody or getting fired himself."
"It can't be that Chandler's getting fired," she said. "He's buddy-buddy with Livingston. He's Livingston's fair-haired boy. Livingston's the one who hired him away from the CBC."
"I heard Livingston's being phased out."
"That's too much."
"Like an obsolete medium-range bomber," I said. "Keep it under your hat."
"You'd think they'd have some kind of Christmas spirit. What a lousy time for a purge."
"Enough chitchat. Get Carter Hemmings in here and tell him to step lively."
She went out and I called Sullivan. The phone rang eight times and she didn't answer. I let it ring some more.
("Dear God, I have to get out of here," I said into the mouthpiece.)
Finally I hung up. Carter Hemmings came in then. He made his way to the sofa, moving sideways and in a very tentative manner, hunched slightly, feudal and obsequious.
"Carter, I thought we agreed that you were going to see Weede this morning with some kind of progress report on the laser beam thing."
"The way I understood it, Dave, I was supposed to see you first thing in the morning. But when I came by your office, Binky said you weren't in yet. I came back ten minutes later and she said you had just gone to Weede's office for the meeting."
"Your name came up during the drone-fest, Carter. Weede said he's going to put your ass in a sling if you're not careful. What do you hear from B.G. Haines? She told me she had a rotten time that night. I haven't been hearing good things about you, Carter. Everybody has to pull his weight. You'll find that Weede can be ruthless when the occasion warrants. Your secretary is a fucking blabbermouth. I have work to do now."
He left. I tore up the notes I had taken during the meeting. I took a box of paper clips out of the middle drawer and began fitting one clip inside another, making a chain. In ten minutes or so I fastened about one hundred paper clips. Then I fitted together the two at each end. This gave me a circle, which I spread before me on the desk. I put nine pencils inside the circle, arranging them in three triangles of three pencils each. I put an eraser inside each triangle. Then I took the torn note paper, dropped it into an ashtray, lit a match and set the paper on fire. I placed the ashtray with the burning paper at a point roughly equidistant from the nearest corner of each triangle and at the approximate center of the circle. When the fire was about to go out I tore up more paper and tossed it into the ashtray. I kept doing this until Binky came in to get her coat, which she always hung behind my door.
"Lunchtime already?"
"What's that?" she said.
"Demonology."
She came around to my side of the desk for a closer look. I slumped in the chair, leaned over and put my hand on her calf, making slow figure eights with the tips of my fingers.
"It's weird, David."
"Works quite well, I think. Note the circular ashtray. Circles within circles. Like the pain in my head. The erasers don't do much for it though. Next time you're in the supply room see if they have any triangular erasers. This is serious stuff"