“What business would that be?”
“You might call me a promoter. I promote girls -- their careers, that is. I take girls like you with something to sell and show them the best way to sell it.”
“I don’t get it. How can you make a living at that?”
“Generally, I work on commission. Whatever my girls make, I get a percentage of it. But with you, it would work a little bit differently.”
“Differently how?”
“I’m not exactly sure yet myself. But if you want to put yourself in my hands, I’ll see what I can work out. What, say?”
“What have I got to lose?” The casual words belied the hollow feeling in the pit of Llona’s stomach.
“Okay, you sit here and have another burger while I make a few ’phone calls.”
All the time they’d been talking, Claude’s mind had been racing. This chick was too good-looking for him to make her just another street hustler. He thought about having her work a couple of the higher class bars in his territory, but even that seemed a waste of potentially top-grade material. No, this chick was A-one call-girl stuff if ever he’d seen it. She was really too good for his operation. He’d do better in the long run by placing her with some really posh operation. That meant going through the Syndicate, and it wouldn’t do him any harm at all to recruit a dish like this for them. They wouldn’t forget his loyalty to the larger operation.
Claude dialed a number, and a voice answered with a cultured “Hello.”
“Mr. Simmons, please,” Claude said.
There was a pause and then another voice. “Simmons here,” it said curtly.
“Mr. Simmons, this is Claude Roseberry.” Claude’s tone was respectful, but his very efforts to be ingratiating made him backslide into his usual effeminate way of speaking. “I have a really sweetie—sweet young thing I think you’ll be interested in,” he said.
“I’m listening, Roseberry.”
“She’s really a superb-looking dolly from out of town. No previous experience, but built like a jade-brick pagoda and willy-nilly willing.”
“So put her to work.”
“Mr. Simmons, she’s just too exquisite for my poor little operation. That’s why I called you. I thought maybe you could use her in one of your more posh endeavors.”
“I see. Well, that was very conscientious of you, Roseberry. Very conscientious indeed. You say this young lady is something out of the ordinary?”
“Quite. With the proper clothes and grooming, she’ll definitely-——but definitely -- be a veritable knockout.”
“And she has no ties? No family or boy friend around to make trouble?”
“Insofar as I’ve been able to determine, sir, none.”
“All right, Roseberry. I’m going to give you a number to call. Ask for Mrs. Cartwright. Tell her what you’ve told me. She’ll probably want you to bring the girl around to be interviewed. She’ll tell you the address.”
Simmons gave Claude the number and hung up. Claude dialed it, asked for Mrs. Cartwright, got her after a moment, and told her that Mr. Simmons had told him to call and explained why. The cultured female voice on the other end asked him some questions, seemed satisfied with the answers, and gave him an address to which he was to bring Llona. It was a large, respectable-looking brownstone house in an old section of town. A uniformed maid answered Claude’s ring and told them that Mrs. Cartwright would be with them directly. After a while a gray-haired woman of about forty-five, dressed in a well-tailored hostess gown, came in and introduced herself as Mrs. Cartwright.
“There’s no need for you to wait, Mr. Roseberry,” she told Claude, motioning Llona to follow her into a sitting room.
“But—” Claude began.
“Mr. Simmons will contact you about any—ah— arrangements for your services,” she told him coolly. The dismissal was final, and Claude left. Llona followed the woman into the other room.
“Please be seated,” Mrs. Cartwright said.
Llona did as she was told.
"‘Now, I’ll want to ask you some questions. Your answers will, of course, be kept confidential. Therefore, there is no need for any--ah—reticence on your part. Nor, due to the nature of our work, can I allow myself to tolerate any such reticence. If we are to establish a working relationship, it must have a foundation of utmost frankness. That way, I keep my girls from presenting me with any unpleasant surprises. I’ve found that things run much more smoothly and efficiently-and much more pleasantly for all concerned—when this is understood from the first.”
She went on to query Llona closely about her background, family, reasons for leaving home, reasons for coming to Caldwell, motives in “entering the profession”, scruples, if any, and many other things including her state of health, ambitions, and general outlook on life. Llona, intimidated by the formidably correct appearance and precise manner of this grande dame, answered everything with complete honesty.
Her replies seemed to meet with Mrs. Cartw1ight’s satisfaction. Then, during a momentary lull, Llona decided on utter frankness. “There’s something you should know,” she said. “I--I’m a virgin.”
“Now, my dear, if we are to have an arrangement, I must insist on absolute truthfulness. I will not tolerate lies from my young ladies.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you. I really am a virgin.”
“Now, my dear-— How old did you say you were?”
“Eighteen. Almost nineteen.”
“Ahnost nineteen . . . Now it may seem like a small thing, Llona, but I simply cannot be firm enough in my insistence that you do not prevaricate — even in unimportant matters such as this. You do want this position, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then we’l1 say no more about it.” Mrs. Cartwright’s tone marked the subject closed. “Now, about arrangements. Mr. Roseberry informed me over the telephone that you are temporarily embarrassed in your finances. He also told me that you have no place to stay. Therefore, first things coming first, the first thing you will need is a place to stay.”
“Why—- Yes, I guess so.”
“You sound puzzled, my dear. Is there something I can clarify?”
“Well I—-I guess I just took it for granted I’d be staying here.”
“Oh, no, my dear.” Mrs. Cartwright’s voice expressed delicate, shock. “I can see that you are laboring under a decidedly mistaken impression. This is not a—ah—-” Mrs. Cartwright groped with obvious distaste for the proper word, “--establishment. This is my home and I transact a certain amount of business from here, but my young ladies do not live on the premises. No, they most certainly do not. That would involve a different type of-—ah-—-business altogether.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to;” Llona was flustered.”
“It’s all right, my dear. Doubtless your faulty impression was only due to your innocence. And innocence has its charms. In this profession it can be decidedly appealing. Yes, indeed . . . In any case, you will need a place to stay. I have taken the liberty of marking some addresses down on this sheet of paper. Any one of them will provide you with comfortable accommodations and the privacy so necessary to our work at reasonable prices. Just tell them that Mrs. Cartwright sent you and, late as it seems to be getting, they’ll make you comfortable tonight.”
“But—?”
“Ah, yes. You’re worried about money. Here is an envelope, my dear. There is fifty dollars in it. It is an advance against your future earnings and will be deducted out of your first month’s commissions. You won’t have to pay for your room out of it. That will also be deducted. This money is so that you may purchase some clothes in keeping with the people you’ll come into contact with and so that you may have your hair done in the current fashion. I’ve written the addresses of a dress shop and a hairdresser on this slip of paper. I will call them first thing in the morning and they will outfit you properly. Be at the hairdresser’s at ten and the couturier at one tomorrow.”