THE SEVENTY-THIRD PAGE

Turnover in the ranks of the assistants was apparently high during the operation of the R.O.T.W.C. The state of disruption in the midst of the assistants must have been hard on those for whom they worked. Happily, soon they would have more to think about as they were next on my agenda.

Further up the ladder usually are the Editors, and a rung above them, the Senior Editors. My publishing house curiously had only one Editor; he, alas, was mine. It was best to save him for later as my schemes might appear a bit obvious if he was next on the hit list. It was time for art and artifice.

The art director was as greedy as he was cowardly, and it was no secret that his true art was graft. Not unlike the production chief, his suppliers were in thrall to him. His accounts in various department stores around town were often credited with funds provided by agents, and sometimes even artists, themselves. The company’s management chose to overlook his methods because as long as he supplemented his income in this manner, it did not need to increase his salary and its taxable attachments. There was something akin to blackmail in this, but as long as the job got done and someone else paid for it, the company was happy. The floating graft game was the director’s flaw.