The Spiked Heel

“I thought you and Joe were buddy-buddy,” Danny said. “What happened? He giving you some static?”

“A little,” Griff said.

“Well, he’s stepping into a big job,” Danny said. “This smoking business suits me fine, though. I never did like the smell of urine with my cigarettes.” He shrugged. “What’s this other garbage, though?”

“I don’t follow,” Griff said.

“This ‘summary’ business. Did you see that one?”

“Oh, yes. That was McQuade’s idea.”

“The Georgia peach?” Danny asked.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Griff said. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

“And what shoulders!” Danny said. “Man, he’s built like a goddam ox. What’s he doing, tightening the screws?”

“No, nothing like that,” Griff said. “He just wants to acquaint himself with what everyone does, that’s all.”

“Mmm,” Danny said. “He’s here for good then? Or will this just be a short visit?”

“I don’t know,” Griff said. “I’m glad you mentioned that. I think I’ll give the Hengman a buzz later and find out what the scoop is.”

“Let me know when you get it, will you?” Danny said. “Say, have you got a minute?”

“Sure.”

“Come in here, will you? This you gotta see.”

“What is it?”

“Come, on, come on.” He limped into the Credit Department and over to where Magruder stood by the window. Griff followed him, mystified.

“We’ve got the tallest building in the area,” Danny said, smiling, “so we can see all the other rooftops. Well, every day now, for the past week, at one o’clock on the dot, just like clockwork, it happens.”

“What happens?”

“Hot Pants Harry,” Danny said.

“Who?”

“He must be on his lunch hour, or maybe his company gives him a half-hour break at this time. Go ahead, take a look.”

Griff looked through the window. “I don’t see anything.”

“No, you’re not looking in the right place. Over there, the toy factory, do you see it?”

“Yes.”

“All right, on the roof. Up against the skylight. Do you see Hot Pants and his girl?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” Griff said. “I see him but…” He stepped closer to the window. “What’s he doing?”

“What the hell do you think he’s doing? He’s doing what makes the world go round.”

“Oh, come on,” Griff said.

“I swear to God,” Danny said. “So help me, I should get struck dead right this minute if it’s not so. Am I snowing him, Magruder?”

Magruder shook his shaggy head. “This is the truth, Griff. Every day now for the past week. She’s not a bad looker, either, seems from here.”

“You mean… right there on the skylight?” Griff asked incredulously.

“They’ve got a set pattern,” Danny explained. “They come up at one o’clock, both of them together. They lean on the roof railing for a while, watching the sights. Then he puts his arm around her, and she moves away and he goes after her. They run around the roof a little, and she always leads him straight to that skylight, and bingo! up go the skirts.”

“I’ll be damned,” Griff said.

“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” Danny said. “That poor son of a bitch probably thinks he’s putting something over on the world. But I was down on the seventh floor yesterday, checking something with O’Neill, and would you believe it, the whole damned floor was lined up by the windows watching old Hot Pants. Some of the guys had binoculars, Griff, I swear to God. That bastard is responsible for more production loss than if we had a fire in the building. We ought to charge him up to the cost of a shoe.”

Griff kept staring at the roof of the toy factory. “I feel like peeping Tom,” he said. “My God, you know, I believe he is!”

“Well, of course, he is!” Danny said. “But every goddam day, that’s what gets me! In broad daylight, with sixteen hundred pairs of eyes on him. Oh, if that poor son of a bitch only knew.”

“She’s got good legs,” Magruder said, his face serious. “When she lifts her skirt, you can see she’s got good legs. I’m going to bring my own binoculars in tomorrow.”

“We ought to get a camera with a telescopic lens,” Danny said, smiling, “and then send the developed print over to Hot Pants, whoever he is.”

“With a round-robin letter from every worker in the factory,” Griff supplied. “How does that sound?”

“And a special pair of Julien Kahn’s Roundheel Pumps for the young lady with the legs,” Danny said, laughing.

“You’re just a bunch of horny bastards,” Griff said. “I’ve got work to do.”

“So has Hot Pants,” Danny said, still laughing.

He left the Credit Department, chuckling to himself, happy he had put the Manelli skirmish out of his mind. When he went into Cost, Marge was standing at the windows looking out. He stopped in the doorway. She had not heard him, and she continued looking through the windows, and he wanted to laugh aloud. He cleared his throat.

She whirled from the windows quickly, her hand going to her throat.

“Working on that report?” he asked happily.

“I… I…” A flush started on her neck and worked its way up into her face. Griff smiled and walked to his desk.

“Amazing how word spreads around, isn’t it?” he said.