The Spiked Heel

If there had been any appreciable change in price, Griff immediately contacted Stiegman at the Chrysler Building, telling him of the changes and asking him to alter his future quotations. He then got up new price sheets for the salesmen, informing them of the new price. If the price was higher than that originally estimated, he couldn’t very well bill the immediate account at this newer, higher price. When an account had been told a pair of shoes would cost him thirteen sixty-five, he couldn’t be billed for fourteen dollars. Griff was well aware of this, so he generally let small cost increases ride as far as pricing went. A large increase was another thing again. A large increase, if ignored in pricing, could kill the company. In those cases, Griff contacted Sales and asked them to send off a diplomatic letter explaining the reasons for the price boost. If the account was willing to pay the higher price, fine. If the account wanted to be stubborn about it, he simply insisted that the acknowledgment of his order was, in effect, a contract, and he would pay only the price quoted in the terms of that contract.

In six weeks, the amount of time it took to run a shoe through the factory, a lot of changes in cost could occur. Other than increases or decreases in the actual material or labor costs, there were many other things to watch for. As the factory became more familiar with a shoe, they learned how to cut corners on it, how to save material here, how to cut out a full operation there. Conversely, problems sometimes cropped up which were not foreseen in the making and costing of the sample shoe. It was a difficult fence to straddle. Underpricing could ruin the company, and overpricing could have the same effect if the competition were offering the same product at a more reasonable price.

Costing and pricing were intimately linked, and Griff took neither of the jobs lightly. He knew how variable both were in the fashion shoe industry. He did his job well, and his job was to keep both the business and the customer happy.

There were orders for some six thousand pairs of shoes waiting to be priced on that Monday morning, and he worked at them rapidly and fastidiously. At nine-thirty, Aaron called in to say he’d gone directly into the factory and probably would not be up to the office all day. Jefferson McQuade had still not come into the Cost Department.

From one of the men working close to Manelli’s office, Griff learned that McQuade had been with the new comptroller since the beginning of the day and was, in fact, still there bending Joe’s ear. Griff was pleased with the news. As much as he had liked McQuade, they had still not reached the easy-friendship stage. There was a lot of pricing to do, and company manners would have held up the job, and Griff didn’t particularly feel like answering a lot of questions this morning. He immersed himself completely in the task, hardly speaking to Marge all morning, thoroughly absorbed with what he was doing.

At eleven-fifteen, the memo came from Manelli’s office.

It came in the interoffice envelope, the envelope with its printed face stating: “Office Communications Service. Do not seal or discard this until last line is used. Print clearly. Always state Department.” There were two names typed onto the lined face of the envelope.

Ray Griffin, Cost

Pat O’Herlihy, Production.

Griff took the envelope from the messenger boy, lifted the flap, and pulled out the memo. The memo read:

EFFECTIVE MARCH 1. PRICING OF ORIGINAL ORDERS AND WORK TICKETS SHALL FROM THIS DATE ON BE CODED. THE FOLLOWING CODE WORDS “GRAY AND WHITE” SHALL BE USED IN CODING NUMERALS AS PER EXAMPLE:

EXAMPLE PRICE: $19.75

EXAMPLE CODED: GEIW

SIGNED:

J. MANELLI, COMPTROLLER

Griff automatically copied down the code words, and then signed the envelope alongside his name, putting the memo back into it, and handing the envelope to the messenger. When the boy was gone, he studied the code words again, and a frown crossed his forehead. He had priced orders for some three thousand pairs of shoes since 9:00 A.M. Those orders were stacked neatly on his desk now, waiting for delivery to the Production Department, where they would be transferred to work tickets. But if this memo were to be taken seriously…

My God, was he supposed to go over all those orders and substitute a batch of letters, erasing and whistling gaily as he went?

“What’s the matter?” Marge asked.

“Oh, this damn memo,” he said. He looked at the code words again. “I’m going to have to see Manelli.” He shook his head, shoved his chair back, and started for the door. “I’ll be down the hall if anyone wants me.”

“All right,” Marge said, going back to her report.