“Mr. Hendel?”
Turning away from the window, Hendel saw Dr. Petrie standing just outside the door to Mr. Montgomery’s bedroom.
“Is he—is he still alive?” Hendel asked.
“Yes. For now,” Dr. Petrie said. “He has asked for you.”
Hendel nodded, then stepped into the room. Because the drapes were closed, the room was dark. And even though it was quite large, it seemed close. It was also redolent of the smell of scented candles, put into the room in an ineffective attempt to overcome the stench of putrefying flesh.
“Ken?” a weak voice called from the bed. “Ken, is that you?”
“Yes, Mr. Montgomery,” Hendel answered.
“Come closer, Ken. Sit by me for a while.”
Hendel moved a chair closer to the bed and looked at the man for whom he had worked for the last eight years after having assumed the same position his father had held for the previous thirty years.
Joel Montgomery, a shipping magnate, was a wealthy man. But now the seventy-six-year-old man was dying of cancer.
It was warm in the room, and there were beads of perspiration on the old man’s forehead. Hendel took a washcloth from a basin on the bedside table and bathed Montgomery’s forehead.
“You are a very good man, Ken,” Montgomery said, his voice made thin by his weakened state.
“You have been very good to me, Mr. Montgomery,” Hendel said. “And to my father before me.”
“It is no wonder that you are a good man,” Montgomery said. “For your father was as well. You come of good stock.”
The two men sat in silence for a moment longer before Montgomery spoke again.
“I made a mistake, Ken,” he finally said.
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“I made a mistake,” Montgomery said. “I should have never insisted that Cynthia marry Bixby. He is not the man I thought him to be.”
Hendel did not respond to the comment. He had felt that way about Jay Peerless Bixby from the moment the old man pushed his beautiful young daughter into marrying him.
“You don’t like Bixby, do you?”
“Not particularly,” Hendel replied.
“You were against this marriage from the beginning, weren’t you?”
“I wasn’t sure it was the best thing for Miss Montgomery.”
“For heaven’s sake, man, why didn’t you say something?” Montgomery asked. “Why didn’t you speak out?”
“I am but an employee, sir,” Hendel said. “It was not my place to speak out.”
“Nonsense, my boy, you are much more than an employee,” Montgomery said.
“I did not want to presume.”
“Yes, well, it is all water under the bridge now,” Montgomery said. He sighed. “I don’t mind dying, Ken—death comes to us all. But it does gall me to think that I have compromised my daughter’s future. I thought that, by having her marry Bixby, I was providing her with a husband who is a good businessman and who would look after her for the rest of her life. I fear now that all I have done is make it so that she will be beholden to him for the rest of her life.”
“That is not necessarily the case, sir,” Hendel said.
“What do you mean?”
“There is a way to insure your daughter’s security. That is, if you are willing to take those steps.”
“Yes!” Montgomery said, and with that one word, his voice was as strong as it had ever been.
There was a light knock on the door. “Papa?”
“Take care of that for me, Ken, will you?” Montgomery said. “Whatever you have to do, do it.”
“I shall require your signature, sir.”
“Then, by all means, do it quickly, while I still have the strength to hold a pen,” Montgomery said.
“Papa?” the voice called again.
“Cynthia, yes, dear, come in, come in,” Montgomery called back.
Cynthia opened the door, but seeing Hendel with her father, she hesitated.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll return when your business is done.”
“It’s done, Ken was just leaving,” Montgomery said.
“Miss Montgomery,” Hendel said with a slight nod. Then quickly, he corrected himself. “I beg your pardon, I mean Mrs. Bixby.”
Cynthia chuckled. “Mr. Hendel, you have known me as Cynthia Montgomery for my entire life. It isn’t surprising that you would slip up.”
“I suppose that’s right,” Hendel said. He looked back toward the figure lying in the shadows on the bed. “I’ll get right on that, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Good, good, I appreciate it,” Montgomery replied.
“Papa, you are looking better this morning,” Cynthia said, forcing the enthusiasm as she approached her father’s bed.
“Nonsense, my dear, I am dying, and I am closer to death this morning than I was yesterday.”
“Well, Papa, if you put it that way, we all are,” Cynthia replied.
Cynthia’s unexpected response tickled Montgomery’s funny bone and he laughed out loud.
“I suppose we are at that,” he said. “Thank you for coming by to see me, my dear. Have a seat and tell your papa all that you have been doing.”
Hendel left before the conversation went any further, but he was happy to hear that the old man was still able to laugh.
When Hendel stepped into the parlor, he saw Jay Peerless Bixby sitting on the sofa, looking at photographs through a stereopticon.
“Mr. Bixby,” Hendel said. “My business with Mr. Montgomery has concluded. If you wish to go in now, you may.”
“Cynthia is here, she’s his daughter,” Bixby said without lowering the stereopticon.
“Oh, but I’m sure Mr. Montgomery would enjoy a visit from you as well.”
“I’m not going in there,” Bixby said. “It stinks in there. It smells like the old man has already died.”
“I agree, it can get a little close in there,” Hendel said.
“Where are you going when the old man dies?” Bixby asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“When the old man dies, you’ll be out of a job, won’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose I will.”
“So where are you going?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t actually given it that much thought.”
“How would you like to come work for me?”
“You are offering me a job?”
“Yes.”
“I’m surprised.”
“Why are you surprised?”
“Because, to tell you the truth, Mr. Bixby, I’ve always had the belief that you didn’t particularly like me.”
“I don’t like you,” Bixby said. “You are just too damn meek for my tastes. I like a man who has a little gumption.”
“And yet, you offer me a job.”
Bixby laughed. “What does one have to do with the other?” he asked. “I’m wanting to hire you, not socialize with you. Besides, a little obsequiousness is not a bad thing for an employee. I don’t want to be challenged.”
“I see.”
“And let’s face it, I’ll be taking over the old man’s business,” Bixby said. “Who knows his business better than you? I think it’s a very good situation for both of us.”
“What does Mrs. Bixby think?”
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks. I’m the one hiring you, not her,” Bixby replied. “But as a matter of fact, hiring you was her idea. Normally, I wouldn’t listen to any suggestion she had to make, but in this case, I think it was a good one. So, what do you say, Hendel? Do you want to come to work for me?”
“Mr. Hendel! Mr. Hendel!” Cynthia called from the bedroom. “Please, come quickly! Papa is calling for you!”
Hendel hurried into the room and saw Montgomery sitting up in his bed. He was gasping for breath.
“Mr. Montgomery, you should lie back down, sir!” Hendel said, concerned over the old man’s condition.
“The papers,” Montgomery gasped. “The papers you want signed, give them to me now quickly.”
“But they aren’t made out yet,” Hendel said.
Montgomery shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’ll sign at the bottom, you can fill them out later. Quickly, man.”