Chapter 3

A visit by Kate Barrett to the three-story department store that bore her married name was always something of an occasion; not, perhaps, to the hundreds of customers who milled about in search of bargains, but the word spread like brush-fire among the various clerks and cashiers and floorwalkers. Kate Barrett is here in person! Dozens of sales were briefly interrupted as employees glanced up for a furtive glimpse of the woman who effectively controlled their working lives. One word from this tall, attractive redhead could put them on unemployment; no one failed to realize her power as far as this successful business was concerned. And the same unspoken question was on everyone's lips- -why had she come to the store?

Kate, alone, moved swiftly through the afternoon crowds, mostly housewives and small children, until she reached the employee's elevator that would take her to Karl Henderson's penthouse offices. She liked dropping in unannounced, if only because it always seemed to make the General Manager so nervous; Henderson was an efficient overseer, but too afraid for his job to suit Kate Barrett. He had been John's personal choice, though, and she would never have gone against the weak-chinned balding little man for fear of tangling with the directors. Kate tightly controlled the corporation, but still the directors had to be kept smiling. As long as the store showed a substantial profit, why should she concern herself with a faceless nobody like Karl Henderson, she asked herself.

An occasional older employee, emboldened with seniority, nodded or smiled greetings to the company matriarch as she passed, and Kate was all teeth and fluttering eyelids. Kate was known as a woman of steel to everyone she had ever dealt with, but she effectively camouflaged her toughness with a Southern belle charm that was often her most potent weapon.

"Good afternoon, Kate... it's nice to see you here again." She spun around instantly, surprised but not offended at the informality; it was Sol Marcus, one of the store's oldest employees. Sol was more like family than employee, and Kate hurried to kiss him on the cheek. John had hired him personally, back before the last war, and though he was way overdue for forced retirement, the Board of Directors, at Kate's heavy-handed insistence, had voted to keep him on as sort of a floorwalker emeritus. Sol had often told his friends that retirement would be the death of him; he had no family, no really close friends, just the store.

"Sol, it's been ages! Why don't you ever come out to Valley Farms like you used to? Lucy and I would love to see you!"

The slight, bespectacled man looked down at the floor as if embarrassed. "I guess I should have come... but I just didn't know if I'd be welcome, now that John--Mr. Barrett--is gone."

"Nonsense, Sol! You just come anytime. Call me ahead of time and I'll fix you a nice home-cooked meal, just like the old times."

With what looked like a tear in his eye, the graying old man took Kate's hand and squeezed it firmly with surprising strength. "Thank you, Kate, I'd love to. Thank you." And then he turned silently and returned to his job of watching over the appliance section, a highly unlikely spot for shoplifting and actually a section created just for him. Kate waved hello to one other recognized old-timer and entered the elevator for the swift ride to the penthouse; she was certain, of course, that Karl Henderson's secretary had already received at least a half-dozen warnings from various friends on the first floor that she was on her way up. That always made it even more fun to watch the look of feigned surprise as she stepped into the green-carpeted foyer of the executive suite.

The stainless-steel doors parted with a pneumatic sigh, and Kate stepped onto the luxuriously thick carpeting and waited for Miss Randal, the executive receptionist, to look up and "discover" that the prime shareholder and Chairwoman of the Board of Directors was paying a call.

"Why, Mrs. Barrett!" she fairly shrieked, "What a delightful surprise!" She had that syrupy voice common to all receptionists, a tone that somehow lacked a shred of real emotion.

"Good afternoon, Miss Randal," Kate said officiously; receptionists were not, as a rule, her favorite people. "Is Mr. Henderson in?" He damn well better be; we don't pay him to stay out of the office!

"Yes, ma'am, he's on a call to one of our buyers in New York, but I'm sure he'll interrupt it to see you. Just a moment, let me buzz him."

"Thank you, I'd appreciate that." Buyer in New York, indeed: who does she think she's fooling! Karl Henderson wouldn't condescend to speak to a buyer unless it was absolutely necessary!

Almost before the pretty young receptionist could get the words from her lips, the heavy wooden door marked Private opened with a noisy bang and Karl Henderson nearly threw himself into the foyer. "Kate! What a surprise! Come in, come in!"

Henderson made a flourishing gesture that was almost a bow and swept her into his spacious penthouse office with a gentle motion of his hand. The suite was tastefully done, decorated solely with merchandise the store handled and accented with a few odds and ends the company's interior designer had chosen; it was relatively simple and stark, befitting a retail merchandiser, and possessed what would have to be one of the most beautiful views in the suburban sprawl of the nation's capital. In the murky distance, you could actually catch a glimpse through the smog of the city's various monuments; the Washington monument stuck up through the brown haze somewhat appropriately as a single upraised finger.

"Sit down, Kate, love, and make yourself comfortable. Would you care for a drink? Or maybe some hors d'oeuvres from the dining room?"

"No, thanks, Karl," she answered with a dismissing wave of her wrist. "I'm here on business this trip and I'll try to make it quick."

"Oh..." Karl Henderson looked momentarily shaken, and his retailer's smile vanished in a trickle from his lips.

"Now don't go getting all worried, Karl. This is personal business, not store business. I have a problem maybe you can help me with."

"Oh! Indeed!" His smile had mysteriously returned and Henderson was his ebullient self. "Anything for you, Kate, you know that!"

"I'll get straight to the point, Karl. We had a break-in last night out at our house..."

"A break-in! Goodness, did you call the police?"

"Yes, yes... actually whoever it was didn't get in. They got scared away when we turned on the lights. But it all got me thinking... two women alone in that big house with God-knows-who riding around the streets. Well, I want to do something to give us a bit more security. What do you recommend? A burglar alarm?"

"Just a second, Kate. Let's bring in an expert... our security chief, Allen Biggs. I'll call him up here." He pressed a button on his intercom, and when Miss Darnel's voice chirped through, he gave instructions for Biggs to be sent for from his office in the basement. Henderson talked shop for a few minutes while they awaited the security man, but also as friends; Karl had heard that Mrs. Barrett never approved of John's choice, but he had grown used to that and simply tried not to worry about his tenure. Worrying was most of the game in the retail trade--worry about being overstocked, about being under-stocked, about the competition undercutting you, about the competition getting more for the same merchandise. Worry, worry, worry... he needed another worry like an extra leg! Kate Barrett was the boss here now and Karl accepted it as something he could do nothing to change.

There was a buzz from the desk outside, and a couple of words passed through the communications system from the store's general manager, and when the door opened once again there was a uniformed man standing there looking for all the world like a policeman. Kate nearly gasped with astonishment but she stifled it in time; was this man an employee of Barrett's? What was this uniform?

"Kate, I'd like you to meet Allen Biggs, our head of security. Allen, Mrs. Barrett." There was a flurry of exchanged greetings and then everyone settled into comfortable armchairs around the manager's rosewood desk. "Suppose you tell Allen what you told me, Kate. If there's anything he doesn't know about security, it hasn't been invented yet! He's cut our shoplifting and burglary in half since he signed on with us."

"Oh, how wonderful," Kate said somewhat lamely. "I didn't even know we had a crime problem at Barrett's. I never recall John mentioning anything about that in the past. Maybe a couple of shoplifters now and then, but nothing the floorwalkers couldn't handle."

"That was in the good old days, Kate, back before there were so many hoodlums about. You simply wouldn't believe the problems we've had! But I won't bore you with all that; tell Allen what your own problem is and he'll tell you how to go about solving it. I have absolute faith in Allen here when it comes to security!"

Kate told the whole story about the break-in, how she lived alone in a big rambling house with her daughter, and then,"... And naturally, I figured some kind of burglar alarm system would be the answer. You know, one of those fancy electronic deals that picks up any movement where it shouldn't be and notifies the police or whatever. But you tell me, Mr. Biggs, you're the expert."

Allen Biggs ran his fingers through his rapidly-thinning hair and shook his head. "No offense, ma'am, but I think a burglar alarm system is a waste of good money. They're all right maybe for a big empty warehouse, some kind of confined space where you know definitely when and where there is to be authorized movement, but not for a house. There are just too many things to go wrong... and besides, most of the burglars know more about beating the systems than we know about installing them!