Chapter 3

Cliff returned to his office at one o'clock to find Charles Purcell pacing the floor waiting for him. Sensing a confrontation, he asked Sandy to join them. Cliff was right: Purcell was loaded for bear. He immediately launched an attack on the decision to close the dining room and Cliff heard him out.

When he finally ran out of steam, Cliff explained, "There are two reasons for closing the dining room. First, it is a luxury benefitting only the highest-paid people in the organization. As such, it's a luxury we can't afford. Second, it's a source of antagonism to the workers. If they're against us, this company is in deep trouble. The room is closed and so is the subject.

"Now the real reason I wanted to see you was to inquire about our banking situation. How many banks do we use and how many accounts do we have? What is our average book balance, bank balance and float?"

Purcell looked at Cliff as if he were speaking Greek. "I don't understand. I can get my assistant to give us our balance at our principal banks. That's all we look at. The rest are nickels and dimes. But what do you mean by 'bank balance'? That's the banks' business, I presume."

"How many principal banks do we have, Mr. Purcell? Which is our primary bank?"

"We don't have a primary bank," Purcell replied proudly. "We spread our business around. It's the smart thing to do!"

"I'm sorry to disagree," Cliff countered. "It's a dumb thing to do. We are not nearly large enough to be an important customer to a substantial number of banks. I want us to be important to a good bank and I expect you to take immediate steps to ensure that we become so."

For Purcell, this was the last straw. He liked having a number of bankers for him to visit and to call on him. Coming on the heels of the decision to close his dining room — and he thought of it as his own — it was too much. "Mr. Fitzpatrick, I cannot honor your request. I am the treasurer! Bank relationships are my responsibility, not yours. I will do no such thing! If you persist in this ... this invasion of my authority, I will be forced to resign!"

Cliff looked at him with a steady gaze. "Is that your last word on the subject, Mr. Purcell? You feel I am overstepping my authority to look into treasury matters?"

Purcell smirked, thinking that he had forced Fitzpatrick to back down. The sense of victory was in his voice as he said, "That's absolutely right! It is none of your affair!"

"I'm sorry to disagree with you again, Mr. Purcell. It is my affair. This company operates on money. It's our life's blood. You control it. It was obvious to me by your reaction to my questions that you know nothing about developments in corporate cash management over the last thirty years. Accordingly, I am accepting your resignation as treasurer, effective immediately." Turning to Sandy he said, "In my letter be sure to say it is accepted with regret, Miss Donnell."

Purcell was stunned. "But ... but ... I didn't resign!"

Sandy had been taking notes as they were speaking. Cliff looked at her, "Miss Donnell, is there something in your notes to the effect that I was overstepping my authority and if I persisted Mr. Purcell would be forced to resign?"

Sandy carefully reviewed her notes as she struggled to maintain a straight face. Finally she said, "Yes, sir, it's right here," and read the lines back.

"To save you the embarrassment, Mr. Purcell, Miss Donnell will type up your resignation. It appears that you have both the age and length of service to qualify for retirement. Wouldn't early retirement within the terms of our retirement plan be a more appropriate way for you to leave?" Cliff asked innocently.

Purcell was beaten and knew it, so he just nodded. Cliff told him he could consider himself retired effective immediately.

Purcell left to clean out his desk and Cliff called Ezra Stiles. "Mr. Stiles, Cliff Fitzpatrick. Charles Purcell has asked to take early retirement, effective immediately and I have approved it. I am appointing my assistant, Sandra Donnell, acting treasurer until the Board can act to make her appointment permanent. I would appreciate it if you would poll the Board by telephone. Then, of course, we will need Board resolutions to change the signatories on all of our bank accounts."

Stiles was stunned. Purcell had been his ally, confidant, and one of his listening posts within the company. "Sandra Donnell as treasurer? Mr. Fitzpatrick, are you sure this is wise? I mean..."

"Do you object to Miss Donnell, Mr. Stiles?"

"Why, of course not! I mean—"

"That's great! Then I'll tell her it's all set. Thank you, sir, for your support!"

Cliff hung up the phone and put out his hand. "Congratulations! As the new treasurer, it ought to be worth another five dollars a week ... maybe even ten!

Sandy had been stunned when she heard herself named as treasurer. "You're serious, aren't you? Making me treasurer? But Cliff, I don't know a thing about being treasurer!"

He grinned at her. "I know you don't. Almost no one does. The only corporate position that is less known than that of the treasurer is corporate secretary. No one knows what the secretary does. Actually, though, it's easy. I'm serious when I say that after we get the system overhauled, I would be amazed if the job took you even thirty minutes a day.

"There's one thing that surprises me, though. I expected more of an argument from Stiles about naming you Purcell's replacement. Well, Madam Treasurer, let's start by listing the information you're going to need to do the job. First, check and see if we have facsimile numbers for our major banks. We do have a fax machine, don't we?"

She shook her head and smiled. "I don't think they were in general use when Mr. Murphy left, and nothing much has changed since."

"Call Kevin right now. He can have one delivered along with the computers today. We do have a spare phone outlet, don't we?" Again she shook her head. "What's Kevin's extension?"

She told him and he dialed the number. Kevin answered. "Kevin, this is Cliff Fitzpatrick. How long will it take you to have this office wired for a fax phone line and have a unit in here? Take all the time you need, as long as it's working by five o'clock today. Can do?"

"Can do! My God, sir, you're the first executive I've met around here who seems to know how to use a phone. It'll be installed by five!"

They hung up, and Cliff glared at Sandy. "Miss Donnell! You've been holding out on me," he said, accusingly.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what you're referring to," she said, trying to sound innocent.

"Miss Donnell, this is a company that plays telephone tag, isn't it? Where it's a status thing to see who waits for whom? Let's say I want to talk to Flood. You call him, and his secretary answers. You tell her, 'Mr. Fitzpatrick for Mr. Flood, ' or some such nonsense. Since I'm senior, he seethes but picks up his phone. You buzz me on the intercom and I pick up. Four people and I don't know how much time to complete one lousy internal phone call. Am I right?" he demanded.

She was giggling so hard, she couldn't talk. She just nodded her head vigorously, doing very attractive things with her auburn hair. Finally she spoke. "Forget the money for acting as treasurer. I want hazardous-duty pay for being your assistant! You know too damn much about what we do. It's just not fair!"

He grinned, but ignored her comment. "How do we stop it? And I want it stopped now! If we have enough secretaries around here to play those kinds of games, we have too many with not nearly enough to do. Do you suppose you could quietly put that word out? Since my secretary — excuse me: the assistant to the president — is now doubling as treasurer, there's not much they can say, is there?"

"Clifford Fitzpatrick, you are a piece of work," she said with a cute grin. "You have only been here about half a day, and already you're shaking the place to its foundations. The next thing you know, you'll be talking about typewriters and copying machines!" she added shrewdly.

"I'm not as dumb as I look," he said with a smile. "I saw the typewriters. They look like refugees from IBM's museum. The company is going to get word processing equipment, probably PCs similar to what we're getting. I wasn't kidding, though. I detest the idea of secretary-as-status-symbol and from what you tell me I'm sure many are. Who runs administration, by the way?"

"Mr. Purcell, to the extent anyone did. Do you want me to do that, too?" she asked skeptically.

"What about Kevin? Could he handle the additional work? It's about to become a real job, though."

Just then there was a knock on the door. It was Kevin with some technicians to install the computers. They discussed where to place them, and Kevin called for a computer table for Cliff's office. Another computer was going behind Sandy's desk. When the men had started to work connecting up the equipment, Cliff asked Kevin to join them for some coffee. The threesome trouped down to the cafeteria. It was Cliff's third visit of the day.

He was greeted by Janet Simmons who had tears in her eyes. "What's wrong?" Cliff asked anxiously. "I thought you would be pleased! Why the tears?"

Mrs. Simmons tried to smile through the tears. "I'll bet you're here for coffee, aren't you? Could I have it brought over and join you for a couple of minutes?"

"We would be happy to have you join us, but I can carry my own coffee," Cliff protested.

"I know you can, sir," she insisted, "but not today!" She motioned to one of the workers who brought over four cups of coffee and set them on a table in the far corner as far from the noise as possible.

When the four sat down, the older woman smiled warmly and said, "Mr. Fitzpatrick, this has been the best day I have had at this company in years! Bill Stevens came down here earlier and he couldn't believe what you had said. You did say we can go ahead with the renovation, didn't you?" Anxiety was apparent in her voice as she spoke the last words.

"Consistent with minimizing disruption to you and your people, Mrs. Simmons, I would like it completed as soon as possible. I also asked Bill to consult with you on the details and possible equipment updates. I gather the plans were prepared several years ago."

"It's truly a miracle! Thank you so much! I guarantee you'll never regret it."

Sandy spoke up quietly, "Janet, when are you and Bill Stevens going to get married? Isn't it about time?"

Cliff was surprised to see the older woman blush like a young girl ... a beautiful young girl, at that. "Sandra Donnell, you stop that! It's none of your business what Bill and I do on weekends." She blushed even deeper at her admission and hurriedly excused herself.

Sandy shrugged. "She's a widow and Bill's a widower. It's funny, really, to see those two together. They're like a couple of kids. I guess it will happen one of these days."

Cliff turned to Kevin O'Rourke and explained the administration situation. "Kevin, is this one of the places where the powers can tell to a hundredth-of-a-cent what it costs to make a copy of something, but totally ignore the cost of the people walking to and from the copiers, waiting in line and that sort of thing?"

"You got that right!" Kevin replied. "It's even worse, though: To get the lowest possible cost per copy, you get successively higher-capacity machines. That means one big new one replaces two, three or even four smaller, older ones. Distances to walk increase, but that's not all: Even the best are mechanical and they do break down sometimes. Only now a breakdown — even with quick-response service — is a minor disaster. What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Will you take over administration? I'm interested in lowest total cost — not per-copy cost. Interested?"

"Yes, sir! When do I start?"

"Right now. However, I want to talk about word processors first." They continued the conversation, and Cliff said that it was unlikely the replacement would be one-for-one. He indicated his belief there were some secretaries-as-status-symbols who would be leaving first. Kevin said he would look into additional computers as soon as possible.

When they returned to their offices, Cliff found a message saying that the Board had been polled by phone and had elected Sandra Donnell the new treasurer.

He smiled, shook hands with Sandy and said, "Congratulations! That was one of the shortest acting appointments on record. Now I want you to get a list of all of our banks, starting with the largest in importance to us. Send a copy of the Board resolution and indicate that a formal copy with the corporate seal will follow by mail. We want an activity analysis for every account as soon as possible."

He explained that an activity analysis was a bank's way of keeping score. Although there are several ways of presenting it to customers, it basically shows the type and amount of different types of activity Murphy uses, and finally indicates the extent to which the relationship is considered profitable. He concluded by saying, "Given the kind of guy Purcell was, I'm sure Murphy Manufacturing will turn out to be very profitable."

He then asked her to get copies of the bank-book ledger sheets and bank statements. When she returned with a supply, he went to his new computer, brought up a spreadsheet program and showed her how to set it up. The columns going across were Date, Bank Balance, Book (or Murphy's) Balance, and Difference.

He pointed out that interest is earned on weekends and holidays, so he reminded her to be sure to record a Friday balance as the balance for Saturday and Sunday as well. "It's remarkable how many people forget to do that. They take the bank balance numbers, add them up and then divide by the number of entries. Companies can lose a lot of money that way."

After he made sure that the two computers were linked so data could be easily transferred between them, Sandy went back to her desk and went to work. Although she did not have Cliff's familiarity with the spreadsheet software, she was much faster at data entry so their speeds were comparable.

Later, Cliff was pounding away on his keyboard when there was a knock at his door. He called, "Come in!" and continued to pound away.

He heard Sandy's voice: "I need help! Could you open the door, please?" He got up and went to the door. Sandy was standing there with a large pizza box and four bottles of beer.

"I know you're planning to work me all night," she said with a grin, "but there's no need to starve, too."

He looked at his watch and was shocked to find it was eight forty-five and the office was completely dark. "My God! Why didn't you tell me? Or better yet, why didn't you just go home? If I'm too dumb to know what time it is, there's no reason for you to be, too."

"You were busy and I like pizza. I hope you like pepperoni and mushrooms? That's what I bought, so let's eat. I'm starving to death." She opened the box on his coffee table and pulled out a stack of napkins. "Thinking ahead, sir, I hope you noticed that the beer bottles have twist-off caps. Would you mind opening two, please?"

Cliff quickly shut down his computer and opened the beer. He pulled his chair around and put his feet up on the desk. Sandy put the pizza on his coffee table and they started munching in companionable silence.

"This is very good, Sandy. Thanks so much. I've nearly forgotten how good a pizza can be. Stephanie doesn't like it. I guess she thinks it's plebeian." He raised his beer bottle in a toast, "Cheers!"

Sandy raised her bottle to return the salute. "Please excuse me, Cliff. If there's a dainty, ladylike way to eat pizza, I haven't found it yet. I hope you'll forgive me for looking like a slob."

"Sandy, why do I think you're fishing for a compliment? You are the most un-slobby individual I've met in years. Incidentally, what did you do before you joined Murphy? As usual, I'm a day late and a dollar short. I should have read your personnel file before I came in today."

Then he grinned and added, "While I'm on the subject, would you please enter your birthday on your calendar with a note to yourself a few days earlier to buy yourself a nice birthday gift, and then wrap it nicely so I can present it to you? I read somewhere that top executive secretaries are great at that!"

He grinned and ducked when she took a mock swing at him. "Assault! Sexual abuse! I've been threatened by a person of the opposite sex. I would take it up with Personnel, except I have a funny feeling they're in the same class with Purcell. Am I right?"

Once more she grinned and nodded. "I'm afraid so. They're really not much good. By the way, there's a regular meeting of the Grievance Committee tomorrow. Purcell was chairman. Who do you want to take his place?"

Cliff looked puzzled. "I don't understand the question. It's the treasurer's function. You're the treasurer. Therefore, obviously, you're the new chairman ... chairwoman ... chair ... Whatever."