The Spiked Heel

“Is that all? Man, it took all our combined brains to shove this thing into the line so fast. The competition will flip when Kahn comes out with—”

“But that’s impossible,” Griff said. “The pattern number on Glockamorra is 537. This one is L039. How come they’re diff—”

“We’re using a new last,” Aaron said. “Improved, better-fitting. And then, of course, there’s the lucite heel. Didn’t want any confusion between Glockamorra and this new baby, so we’re giving it a different pattern number.” Aaron stared at Griff, puzzled. “You mean… you mean you didn’t know this was the same shoe?”

“Then L039 is just a new pattern number for 537? Oh, those rotten bastards! Why didn’t someone tell me?” And then his eyes lighted with the calculations he immediately began to make. “Same cost,” he said, “less the suede heel covering. Slight difference perhaps, because of the improved last, but I can gamble on that. Just substitute the lucite for the wood heel. Same labor, too, unless the lucite heel requires special work. But I can check that with Heeling.” He snapped his fingers. “Where are we buying the heels, Aaron?”

“What?”

“The lucite heels. Where the hell are we buying them?”

“Oh. That was another piece of genius. It took us almost two days to locate—”

“Where?” Griff shouted.

“All right, all right,” Aaron said, surprised by this outburst. “Plastics, Inc. Four thirty-two Madison Avenue. You want the phone number?”

Griff grinned broadly. “Goddam right I want-the phone number!”

He called Plastics, Inc., and talked to a man named Franklin there. Franklin told him just how much each lucite heel was costing Julien Kahn, and Griff jotted down the cost and then went down to the Heeling Department to talk with Baldy Pujaks. Pujaks said no, he could see no reason why the lucite heel should bring more per piece than the ordinary heel would bring the workers. Griff thanked him and went back up to Cost.

He fished the card for the Glockamorra pattern from his files, pattern number 537, a pattern he knew like the back of his hand, oh those rotten bastards, and then he made his allowances for difference in cost between lucite and wooden heels, deducted the cost of the heel covering as listed on the cost card, and then adjusted the total cost to conform, realizing he was taking a very slight gamble because of the new last but certain his estimated cost and price would be damned close nonetheless. He dug out the prices he’d arrived at for the entire fall line, jotted those down under the price for the new lucite heel pattern, L039, L039, God damn it, it was Glockamorra all along, and he was ready to roll. All he needed now was a ditto machine, and there were two of them down in Production.

Pat O’Herlihy was in charge of Production. He was a big red-headed man with a barrel chest and a deep voice. When Griff showed him what he wanted run off, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, m’boy,” he said.

“What’s the trouble?”

“No trouble a’tall. Except both my ditto machines are tied up and will be tied up all day, I’m that busy.”

“What are they tied up with?”

“Th’ Hengman sent down a flock of notices he wants dittoed. Says he needs them in a hurry.”

“What kind of notices?”

“Here, be takin’ a look at one of them for yourself.”

O’Herlihy led him to the two ditto machines where the girls with their ink-stained fingers were pulling sheets. He picked up one of the sheets and handed it to Griff. It read:

ATTENTION

DUE TO INDEPENDENCE DAY FALLING ON A SUNDAY THIS YEAR, THE TWO-WEEK FACTORY VACATION WILL BEGIN AS NORMALLY ON MONDAY JULY 5TH, BUT CREDIT WILL BE GIVEN FOR THAT MONDAY AND WORKERS ARE NOT DUE BACK UNTIL TUESDAY MORNING, JULY 20TH.

Griff stared at the notice incredulously. “This?” he asked.

“That,” O’Herlihy said. “That and a few dozen others of similar nature.”

“Can’t you run them later?”

“Wants them tomorrow, he does.”

“For July Fourth? Jesus Christ, this is still April!”

“Do I argue with Hengman? Now, what good will arguing with Hengman do me, I ask you?”

Griff shook his head. “When will the machines be free, Pat?”

O’Herlihy shrugged. “When we knock off to go home, I suppose.”

“Thanks, Pat.”

At five o’clock that evening, he and Marge went into the Production Department. They set up both ditto machines and knocked off more than enough price sheets for Stiegman and his salesmen, more than enough price sheets, in fact, for the entire Russian Army.

They went out for a quick dinner, and then they went to Griff’s place where they finished compiling the cost card information Manelli had demanded.

At 9:00 A.M. the next morning, that information was on Manelli’s desk.

And Dave Stiegman was slightly surprised when a messenger walked into the Chrysler Building at ten-thirty and delivered the price sheets he needed for his sales conference.