Chapter 18

Jan was sitting in her office going through the mail. It was April and spring was coming to Chicagoland. The weather was gorgeous; it was the first warm sun-drenched day of the season. Jan could almost forget that Pete had left two days earlier for an extended trip to Italy, Germany and Japan to line up specialty machine-tool suppliers whose equipment was needed to go into production on the Peters Drive.

The drive had been introduced a month earlier at COMDEX and it was the runaway hit of the show. They sold out their intended first-year production and planned to increase capacity substantially. Jan had run demonstrations at their booth similar to the ones that Mark had used to demonstrate the drive at the farm. The results were at least as spectacular. Meanwhile, units had been released to trade writers and the first reviews were now on her desk. Without exception, they were raves. For the first time, there were no clouds on Janice's horizon.

Then she came to the certified letter. She opened it and found it was from Hugo Bingham at Argus Corporation. He stated that he had acquired Illinois Technologies' $20 million demand note from Chicago Trust Company, IT's bank. According to the loan terms, payment was demanded forthwith. The loan agreement provided for 15 days notice. Notice ran from that morning. Jan was in a state of shock but she immediately called the bank. Her account officer, Cynthia Martin, a vice president, was in conference so she left word for her to call.

She opened the letter again and found there was more material in the envelope. There was a note from Hugo Bingham. He said that Argus would rescind its call of the note provided she returned to him as his slave! Enclosed was a photo Jan recognized. It was a picture of herself, although her face did not show. It showed her back scored with bleeding welts after having been whipped. Jan's stomach turned as she remembered that day.

She still hadn't heard back from her bank officer, so she drove into Chicago and confronted the girl in her office. Martin admitted she had been ducking Jan. Yes, the bank had sold the note to Argus. "But Jan, we had no choice! He offered us a 20-percent premium on its face amount. After all, dear, we couldn't say no, could we?" Jan stormed out of the bank without another word. She vowed to do no more business with that institution ever ... assuming she ever had any more business to do.

Over the next days there were nearly-daily reminders from Hugo Bingham. A couple of days after the first letter, Jan received a set of leather bracelets for her wrists and ankles. They fastened permanently and had steel rings on the outside that Jan realized permitted the wearer to be hooked to fasteners on a wall or post and locked into a position. The next day she received a collar that served the same purpose. Similar mailings, detailing her future duties as a slave, arrived almost daily.

By now nearly two weeks of the fifteen days had passed and Jan was beside herself. Her first thought had been the Gordons, but they hadn't yet returned from their trip. As they all expected, it had turned into a world cruise, and they could not be reached. To add to her frustration, at least twice a week she received cards from Jill or Martha describing what they were doing and telling of all the fun they were having. Jan was beside herself with worry.

She had tried to reach Jennifer Chapman but an answering service picked up. When she identified herself she was told that the Chapmans — senior and junior — were traveling. Questioned closely, the operator admitted she seldom heard from either of the families. There was already a thick stack of messages waiting for them to call. Jan indicated her call was an emergency, and the operator said she would be sure to pass the message along... if the Chapmans called.

Jan was tortured every time she talked with Pete on the telephone. His trip was going very well, and he missed her. She didn't tell him of Bingham or his actions because there was nothing Pete could do about it anyway.

One event did make her feel better. She learned that a couple of men — obviously hired by Argus — had appeared at a Deerfield bar where workers at Illinois Tech hung out. The men had started to talk loudly at the bar about Jan and about the fact that she had been a prostitute. They even had pictures of her. The IT people and the other locals ignored them until they produced the pictures. Then the fun began. It seemed that the two men were left unconscious in a ditch just inside the town line. There they were picked up and arrested by Deerfield police for disorderly conduct. When they tried to explain that they had been attacked, three officers testified to the magistrate that they had been in the bar all evening and never saw the men before in their lives! The next day the remains of the pictures arrived on Jan's desk, torn into confetti. There was no note.

There were now only a few days left, and she was terrified. She didn't mind for herself, but she knew what it would do to Pete if she were Bingham's slave. It was clear that she would be forced to attend computer trade shows appearing in the most degrading manner his dirty mind could conceive. Jan admitted that he was very creative in such things. No possible solution occurred to her. Finally, she decided to check her computer database to see if there were any people she might have overlooked whose help she could possibly enlist. Going through the names, she came to Jennifer Chapman's file. Listed there was her mother, Allison Clifford, with the notation that she was one of the richest people in the world. Further, it said she was senior partner of a law firm.

Jan called Anita Collins. Anita gave her the name of a lawyer friend in town who was likely to have a copy of the Martindale-Hubbell lawyers' directory. She called and got an almost-immediate answer. The firm name was Clifford & Jamison; Allison Clifford was managing partner and the phone number was provided. She checked her watch and saw that it was eight-thirty in Los Angeles. Swallowing hard, she dialed the number.

A girl answered, "Clifford & Jamison, good morning! How may I help you?"

"Good morning. Mrs. Clifford please."

"Mrs. Clifford's office. This is Kathy. How may I help you?"

"Kathy, this is Janice Stewart calling. Mrs. Clifford doesn't know me, but I'm a friend of her daughter, Jennifer. May I speak to her, please?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Stewart. She isn't in the office and is not expected today. Can someone else help you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I really need to see her on an urgent matter. Could you get a message to her? It's very important that I see her as soon as possible." Kathy said she would do what she could, and Jan left her telephone number. After hanging up the phone she looked at her calendar. It was already Thursday. On the following Tuesday, Jan would become Hugo Bingham's slave. The loan — all twenty million dollars — had to be paid on Monday. For the first time since she was a small child, Jan put her head on her arms and started to cry.

Just then, her phone rang. She answered it and heard, "Mrs. Stewart? This is Kathy Carlson, Mrs. Clifford's secretary. I reached Mrs. Clifford. She said she can see you but asked me to find out the purpose of your visit. She asked me to assure you that you can speak to me in confidence."

Jan glanced at the calendar and started to cry. "Kathy, I need money. I am vice president of Illinois Technologies in Deerfield, Illinois. For reasons I can't go into over the phone, I need twenty million dollars by Monday. It's an investment, I guess. Does that help?"

"Mrs. Stewart, let me get back to you. I'll call you back within the hour." The connection was broken.

Thirty minutes later, the phone rang again. It was Kathy Carlson. "Mrs. Stewart? Mrs. Clifford asked if you could catch the American flight to Los Angeles arriving LAX at six-thirty Friday evening. Someone will meet you at the security barrier. Mrs. Clifford will meet with you at eight o'clock on Monday morning." There was silence on the line for a few moments. Then Kathy added, "I explained the urgency to her."

Jan said she would be on the plane and hung up, then went home to prepare for the trip. She took a portable computer and one of the Peters' Drives. Early Friday morning she was in the office carefully going over the financial information she thought she would need. Finally, she made arrangements to be driven to O'Hare. If the trip wasn't successful, she wouldn't be coming back to O'Hare to pick up Pete's car ... ever! She boarded the plane.

The flight to Los Angeles was the longest flight she could remember. She was so preoccupied, she could barely remain civil to the young lady in the next seat who wanted to talk about women in business. Finally the wide-body was in its final approach and then started setting down at Los Angeles International Airport. Getting off the plane, Jan's heart was in her mouth. She didn't know what to expect. All she knew were three things: first, Allison Clifford was one of the richest women in the world; second, Jennifer Chapman worshiped her; and third, she cared about other people — or Jen claimed she did. She passed through security and heard a musical female voice say, "Mrs. Stewart?"

Jan stopped short. She saw a beautiful girl standing in front of her wearing Jan's own favorite leisure costume: skin-tight Levi's and a blue chambray work shirt. The girl was a golden blonde with piercing blue eyes and a golden tan. Jan smiled and said, "I'm Janice Stewart," and stuck out her hand.

The girl took it in a firm grip and smiled warmly. "Welcome to Los Angeles, Mrs. Stewart! I'm Ali. Mrs. Clifford asked me to look after you until Monday morning, if it's all right with you? Do you have any luggage?"

Jan admired the young woman who moved with a very athletic stride. Because of the Levi's there was no question about her figure. Her legs were perfect. Looking at the shirt, she could see the girl's nipples protruding under the material. Clearly, she wasn't wearing a bra. They chatted and went to the baggage claim area where Jan retrieved her suitcase and the special padded case she used to transport the computer. She carried the Peters Drive in the cabin with her, never letting it out of her sight if she could avoid it.

Ali helped her with the bags and they went out to the curb where a long gray limousine was waiting. Ali said, "Fred, this is Mrs. Stewart. She's a friend of Mrs. Clifford's." They got in the car and it smoothly pulled out into traffic. When they got clear of the airport, Ali asked, "Mrs. Stewart, do you drink?"

"Ali, the name is Jan, for God's sake! You aren't that much younger than I am, and you make me feel like an old woman!"

Ali grinned and stuck out her hand again. "Hi, Jan. I like you very much." Jan was impressed with the girl's firm grip. "But you still didn't answer the question. Do you drink? If so, would you like one?" The girl grinned even more broadly. "Every once in a while, Mrs. Clifford gives me an assignment like this and I get to use her car and driver. I feel like a little kid and want to bounce up and down on the seats!" With that, she started to bounce. She blushed when she caught a glare from the driver in the mirror. "Oops! Fred may tell the old lady!"

She opened a panel in the back of the partition and revealed a fully-equipped bar. "I'm going to have a very dry martini! How about you, Jan?"

Jan smiled and said she would join her. Ali mixed the drinks with practiced skill and gave one to Jan. "Good luck, Jan! May I consider you a friend? I hope you will think of me as one of yours. I heard a rumor that you're a friend of Jennifer Clifford's. Is that true?"

Jan smiled again and said, "I hope so! She's one of the nicest — and certainly one of the funniest — girls I've ever met." She told Ali about the luncheon and Jen's pantomime with signing the check. She went on to tell about her first meeting with Jen, her question about cleaning cum out of the carpet, and her reply.

By this time, Ali was giggling merrily. She finally admitted to knowing Jen. "She really is a nice person, I guess. I know Mrs. Clifford thinks the sun rises and sets in her." They enjoyed their drinks.

Finally they arrived at a very impressive downtown office tower. Ali said that they might as well bring her computer and things in and lock them in the office where they would be safe. Jan realized with a start it was almost eight o'clock in the evening. They rose in the elevator to the top office floor. Getting off the elevator, she saw a beautiful entrance with the name, Clifford & Jamison, in brass letters over the door.

After Ali used a key to let them in, Jan was surprised to see the office was dark. She understood law firms, particularly the most successful ones, were going till all hours. She asked Ali about it, but the girl just shrugged and said, "Not this one!" They went into a corner office; Jan had noticed the discrete lettering next to the door that said, Allison Clifford, Managing Partner. Ali opened the door and stood back to allow Jan to precede her.

"My God, what an office!" Jan exclaimed. "It's like a Hollywood set!"

It was a beautiful evening in Los Angeles. Looking to the west, the sun had just set. There was a magnificent vista out to the ocean and north to the mountains and the San Fernando Valley beyond. Jan just went to the windows which were floor-to-ceiling and admired the view. Then she looked at the very large leather-topped desk in front of the window. She sighed and Ali asked what was wrong. "There's nothing wrong! I was just thinking of being at this window and having my husband, Pete, take me on the desk. Just the two of us and the lights of the city. We would both be bare and making love in full view of anyone who cared to look! It would be heavenly!"