The Raiders

1

JONAS ENJOYED ASSEMBLING PEOPLE HE CARED FOR at the ranch at Christmas. It wasn't always possible. The year Nevada died, and the next year, he didn't feel like it. He couldn't imagine the party without Nevada. He invited Jo-Ann the next year. And he brought Angie. Bat had felt obliged to go to Mexico for Christmas. Four sat down at the table: Jonas and Jo-Ann and Angie and Robair. It wasn't enough. He had actually considered inviting Monica, to fill the house. Then last year he was just out of the hospital for Christmas, so they spent the holiday in the apartment in the Waldorf Towers — the same four, plus Bat. This year there would be more people but no Robair, who had died in August.

This year Bat would bring Toni again. Jonas asked Jo-Ann to bring Ben Parrish. He had to face the man sometime. So did Monica, so he had invited her, too, and her cartoonist friend Bill Toller, if she wanted to bring him — or whoever was sleeping in her bed this year.

Since the heart attack Jonas had let his pilot's license lapse. He had not taken the biennial physical, because he doubted they would pass him. Bill Shaw was technically pilot in command of the Beechcraft Bonanza they flew from Las Vegas to the ranch, but Jonas sat in the left seat and flew the airplane. He hadn't lost his touch and was exhilarated by having his hands on the controls of an airplane again.

He landed first at the Cord Explosives plant and went in to see once more the office where his father died. The plant manager didn't use it. It was kept as an office for the Cords, whenever one of them came to the plant. Jonas went out into the plant and shook hands with as many as he could of the workers, mostly Mexicans, who still operated this highly profitable seminal enterprise of the Cord empire. They hadn't seen him for a long time, and they didn't see Bat often either. His visit was good for their morale.

Bill Shaw carried Jonas's luggage into the ranch house and then took off in the Bonanza to be with his family in Los Angeles for Christmas. Angie was in the house, trying to do what Robair had always done: decorate for Christmas and organize the meals. She was a good girl and was doing her best, but Jonas realized she couldn't do what Robair had done, much less what Nevada had done; and he reached an abrupt conclusion that he would sell the ranch. This would be his last Christmas there.

2

Toni was dismayed by Jonas. She couldn't really like him, because she couldn't like his influence over Bat; but she was jolted by the change in the man. She remembered what Bat had told her when she came here for Christmas five years ago: that the household would live to Jonas's schedule, that probably consciously but even unconsciously he would dominate totally. He would be the center of everything. He still was, but not in the same way. Everyone gathered around him. Everyone deferred to him. But it was for a new reason — that they sensed he was a dying lion. What was worse he obviously sensed the same thing and had settled into the role. It was appalling. He was only fifty-three!

At Christmas in 1952 she had observed the immense energy of these people. Now she saw something else: that none of them loved Jonas, and he didn't love them. She was distressed by the thought that maybe they were incapable of love. They shared a sense of family, a stalwart loyalty toward each other; but it wasn't love; it was something else, a defensive family allegiance that inspired them to strike out at anyone who threatened the demesne. That was their only commitment to each other: to protect the turf. They would rush to each other's defense, not because they cared for each other, but to defend the empire.

Monica stood by the fireplace chatting with her friend Bill Toller, who had to have accommodated her to come here and be subjected to this evening. Monica patently didn't like any of the Cords, including her own daughter. She knew why Jonas had invited her here: to let her see what her daughter had married. Jonas was punishing her for something out of the past. He was succeeding. Monica was at no pains to conceal her antipathy for the Hollywood hustler her daughter had married, nor her indifference for the son Jonas had discovered.

Toni had done a little research into the life and character of Benjamin Parrish. She had a word for him. Slick. She had anticipated slick, and he was slick. He was a bulky man, ten years older than Jo-Ann, and he was all but absurdly protective of her. He was also playing a transparent game of deference toward Jonas and Bat. He smoked only when he stood by the fireplace, where the draft would carry his smoke up the flue.

Jo-Ann had matured since Toni last saw her at her graduation two years ago. Matured? No, she had deteriorated. At twenty-three, she was a damaged woman; heavy drinking and constant smoking had marked her. She had been an unhappy girl when Toni first saw her at the 1952 Christmas party ... a bitter, cynical young woman at the graduation ... a scarred woman now.

And, damn it, they were all responsible for it, except maybe Bat. Jonas had expectations of her, and he let her know she didn't meet them. Monica didn't want to acknowledge she had a daughter who looked nearly as old as the mother. The mother and father weren't proud of their daughter and had let her know it. What the hell did they expect of her?

Toni could see that Angie was devoted to Jonas, perhaps pitiably so. It looked as if Jonas accepted her devotion the same way he accepted the devotion of employees — he would reward it, but he thought it was no more than his due. Angie was realistic and probably comfortable.

Bat. He was of course the one most interesting to Toni. She had watched him change. He had always been a Cord, she understood. Some of the combined elements of his character and personality — the relentless drive, the focused and endless span of attention, the calm and unaffected egocentricity, all coupled with an unremitting erotic appetite — had been enigmatic until she met Jonas and saw the same combination of traits in him. In Bat, all but the last had been tempered by what he was of his mother, as Toni judged, but under the continuing influence of his father he was more and more a Cord, with the tempering influence diminishing. It was said of Jonas that he was not a man to be crossed, that he was remorseless when crossed. She wondered if Bat had not acquired that trait, too.

Bat had developed a slight farsightedness and carried in his breast pocket a pair of eyeglasses with dark horn rims, which he pulled out from time to time and settled on his nose, giving him an owlish aspect that was almost always submerged in his facile, active smile. He paid more attention to tailoring than his father did and wore clothes his New York tailors cut precisely to fit him. Time had not ravaged him the way it had Jo-Ann; to the contrary, it had caressed him; he was, if anything, more handsome than he had been before.

They were thirty-one years old. If they were going to marry and have a family, the time was now. But it was anything but certain it was going to happen. She was not certain, in fact, it was what she wanted. The demand he had made in Lexington, Massachusetts, nine years ago still stood. He wanted his wife to be a homemaker and mother. He wanted his wife to be an ornament to his life. He said he'd learned better, but she was not confident he had.

She had said she was willing to be wife and home-maker and ornament, in time. She had said she would in time give up her career and spend twenty years rearing children. And no man she had ever met matched Bat Cord. Still— He had too much Jonas in him. He seemed to be filling up with it.

3

Jo-Ann sat beside her father on a couch and drank Scotch. She was pleased with herself. Both her parents were pissed. She had married the man with the biggest cock in California and had made it plain to him that he had better, by God, cleave to her like the Bible said or she would, by Christ, cut it off. She was a Cord. He had better understand that. Jonas might not like it that she was a Cord, but she was, and she was just as much a bitch as he was a son of a bitch, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was counting her drinks. So was Monica. So was Bat. To hell with all of them.

She was a Cord, but she didn't need the Cords. She had every quality they had, and she was married to a highly competent flimflam artist. Jonas wanted to destroy Ben but obviously was not so sure he wanted to destroy his daughter's husband. Anyway, the hand of Jonas did not reach everywhere.

4

His body rarely reminded Bat of the shattered rib and ripped flesh he had suffered on the Ludendorff Bridge. But occasionally it did: with sharp spasms, then throbbing in his right side. The pain came at odd times, usually not more than once every few weeks. He felt it tonight, and he related it to having lifted a heavy suitcase with his right arm as he left the plane that had delivered him and Toni to the ranch landing strip.

He moved to the fireplace and exchanged idle words with Bill Toller and Ben Parrish, studying the others in the room with the same intensity with which they were observing him and each other. He wore a gray tweed cashmere jacket and charcoal-gray slacks, a white shirt, and a narrow regimental-stripe tie.

He saw his father often, not less frequently than once every other week, and he had seen him at his worst, depressed and probably frightened. He had seen him snatch a nitroglycerine pill from a bottle and jam it into his mouth. Lately, though, he had observed distinct improvement. Jonas had lost one-third of his heart capacity, the doctors said. He should moderate his activity, they said. Bat had watched him closely and knew what he was doing. Jonas was testing himself. He knew what he cared about, what counted for him; and he knew how much he was willing to give up to survive. He was the kind of man who wouldn't value life without bourbon, rare steaks, a lot of vigorous sex, and, above all, the satisfaction of challenging, competing, and winning.

"You know what?" he had said to Bat one day in the suite atop The Seven Voyages. "I get it up just fine. I didn't lose a bit of that. In fact, I had her go down on me before I left the hospital. The doctors would have— "

"How would she have felt if— "

"I know, I know," Jonas had said impatiently. "We talked about that. I told her it was okay with me. What a way to go!"

Bat had grinned. "You are irrepressible," he had said.

Jonas had laughed. "Damn right."

His father had given him authority to make the changes he had recommended; but, as he had expected, the older man looked over his shoulder every minute and intervened regularly. He won his father's approval often, but it was never unqualified approval. There was always some little thing that could have been done better.

For example—

"You passed up an opportunity. Lucky I saw it."

"What are you talking about?" Bat asked.

"Cord Aircraft."

"What the hell? You agreed to phase it out. I got eight million five for the plant and machinery, most of it obsolete. Sold the whole works to Phoenix Aircraft. Everybody I know says I got a damned good deal. We're out of the airplane business, and we got eight and a half million cash."

Jonas shook his head. "Well, you don't know anything about airplanes. You know what I did with the eight and a half million?"

Bat shook his head. "I'm afraid to ask."

"I bought twenty-five percent of Phoenix."

"Why? We were getting out of the airplane business. You agreed— "

"I asked the guys from Phoenix to stop by and show me what they were planning. I discovered I was talking to some aviation geniuses. They're gonna build a sleek little low-wing two-seater configured with the seats fore and aft, to be flown with a stick instead of a yoke. That little airplane will sell. I offered them their eight and a half million back, for twenty-five percent and a seat on the board of directors. God, were they happy!"

"So, are we supposed to be happy? We're back in the airplane business, where we were losing money, and— "

"Bat!" Jonas interrupted. "Can't you see a no-lose proposition when it's staring you in the face? All we invested in their airplane is the money they paid us for the plant. If this great little plane they want to build is a success, we have a percentage. If it isn't, all we invested is the old building with a lot of obsolete old machine tools. You've gotta watch for deals like that. They come along once in a while."

Another plaything. Another enthusiasm that would cost money. Another time when it would have been a big mistake to say so.

When the Wall Street Journal and other newspapers reported that Cord television sets would no longer be made, the market for the sets vanished. Retailers unloaded the sets they had at sharply discounted prices and ordered no more. Jonas was extremely annoyed and suggested someone had intentionally leaked the news. The family took a loss on the deal, and Jonas blamed Bat. He hadn't done it right. He'd let it get away from him.

"Somebody fucked us, Bat. Somebody who works for us. You've gotta be always on the lookout for that. You're too goddamned trusting. Look around for the guy that owes us, that we've bailed out of trouble. You think that wins us his loyalty? No. The other way around. He hates us. I'd first trust the guy we screwed, then the guy we saved from a screwing."

5

Jonas sat at the head of the table. Bat at the other end. The cook, without the supervision of Robair, had carved a big turkey, and a temporary man serving in a white jacket as a waiter set it on the table on a silver tray. Platters and bowls were filled with dressing, potatoes, gravy, vegetables, cranberry sauce, celery, radishes, olives, and hot rolls. Red wine, white wine, and champagne were in cradles or in buckets of ice.

Jonas surveyed the spread with a critical eye for a long moment, then seemed to be satisfied. He tapped a glass with a spoon. "Let me say how pleased I am that we are all together this evening. I wish we could do it more often. Let's plan on it. Next year we will gather in New York."

He didn't offer to say grace, and no one suggested it. The family and their friends set about eating.

Toni had noticed before that Jonas, Monica, and Jo-Ann — and five years ago, Nevada — ate like ranch hands: diligently filling their plates and moving food to their mouths as if they had but limited time. They spoke little while they were eating, and when they did speak it was usually to express satisfaction with a dish. ("This is good, isn't it? Tell Martha she did a first-rate job.") They were not rude in their manners; they just ate purposefully. They were purposeful people.

In this, Bat was not like them. He savored his food and wine and took his time. Toni was pleased that she and Bat and Bill Toller were still very much in the middle of their meal when Jonas, Jo-Ann, and Monica were finished and were allowing the man to take their plates.

"Well," said Jonas, glancing around the table. "Maybe this is as good a time as any, while we're all together, to announce a change or two I've decided to make in the organization of the businesses."

There could have been no more inappropriate time to announce a reorganization, and surely Jonas knew it. Bat went on eating, as if he knew what his father was about to announce — which he did not know.

"I've been reviewing this year's performance and this year's changes," Jonas went on. "On the whole, I'm satisfied. We stubbed our toes on a few things, but on the whole we've had a good year. Bat recommended reorganization, I accepted his recommendation, and I'm glad I did. Studying what we've done over the past five years, it has become apparent to me that Bat and I have complementary talents. Bat does some things better than I do. I do some things better than Bat does. For that reason, I want to change the structure a bit to take advantage of those disparate and complementary skills."

Bat glanced up at his father at intervals, but his attention seemed to remain focused on his dinner.

Jonas continued. "For myself, I'm very happy I got us into the hotel business. We're going to own two of the finest casino-hotels in Las Vegas, and they're going to make money like nothing else does! I will continue personal control over Cord Hotels. Bat recommended that we go into television production, and we've done reasonably well at that. I am oriented to show business more than he is. I made movies, after all, and we own Cord Studios because I established them. I am going to assume full executive authority over Cord Productions and relieve Bat of any responsibility in that area of the business."

It was obvious now that Bat's concentration on the remainder of his dinner was a façade against what his father was saying.

"I'm gonna run the casino-hotel business and the entertainment element of the business myself, hands-on," said Jonas. "Now, as to Bat, he has proved himself a shrewd businessman, an organizer, a man who understands how to finance things. As of the first of January he will be president and chief executive officer of Cord Enterprises. He will be president and chief executive officer of Cord Explosives, which incorporates Cord Plastics, and of Inter-Continental Airlines." Jonas paused and grinned. "With those offices he won't have enough work to do, so I'm handing him a new assignment. I'm creating a committee of the board of directors of Cord Enterprises — a committee on new ventures and acquisitions. Bat will be chairman. I'll serve on the committee, as will Professor Moynihan; and since the board is not really large enough to have committees, I am enlarging the board from five members to seven. Our general counsel, David Amory, will be a director and a member of Bat's committee. In addition I have asked my dear friend Angela Wyatt to serve as a director."

6

Two of the bedrooms in the ranch house had small fireplaces. Jonas had taken one for himself and assigned the other to Bat. Snow had fallen all during their dinner and was still falling. The sight of snow, the deep silence of a snowy night, made them feel cold even when the temperature in a room was the same as it had been a few hours ago. Jonas had asked Angie to build up the fire, and she squatted in front of the fireplace, already naked, and pushed splinters of kindling against the few hot coals that remained from an earlier fire.

"Congratulations, Madame Corporate Director," said Jonas.

She turned and smiled at him. "Thank you, Jonas. That was a wonderful thing for you to do for me."

"You deserve it," he said. "You've earned it. Anyway, you know all about what the board does, since you've been at every meeting, taking the minutes. Now you'll have a vote."

"I'll always vote the way you do," she said ingenuously.

Jonas grinned. "Well, I hope so." He was sitting on a tweedy couch in a long blue terry-cloth robe. He picked up a bottle and poured a splash of bourbon. "Nightcap," he said. "One last sip." She'd had the temerity to count his drinks and remind him of his promise to his doctors to cut down on the booze. He didn't sip. He tossed the bourbon down with a satisfied grunt.

With the fire beginning to catch, Angie came to the couch, sat down beside Jonas, and reached inside his robe to massage his penis.

"I wish I had the place wired," said Jonas. "I'd like to hear what they're saying out there." They had come to their bedroom as soon as they left the dinner table. "Actually, they won't say anything. None of them trust each other enough to say what they think in each other's presence."

"Bat— "

"I wouldn't want him to know how much he means to me," said Jonas. "What I really wish I had wired is that bedroom at the other end of the hall. I'd like to hear what he and Toni say when they're alone."

7

As Toni undressed, Bat stirred coals, added wood, and knelt and blew on the coals, coaxing up a lively blaze in the little fireplace.

"What was all that about?" she asked when he stood and began to take off his clothes.

"I could say much ado about nothing. Actually, it's about something. He gives me a more impressive title, but he isn't giving up an iota of control."

"Was it a sort of Christmas present?" she asked. "The title?"

"You could think of it that way," said Bat. "He wants my allegiance. He could have assured it better another way."

"What way?"

"He could have arranged a transfer to me of a block of the CE stock. I hold just ten shares. So does each of the directors, except Judge Gitlin who owns two hundred. All the rest of it, my father owns himself. That's how he keeps absolute control. Absolute control."

"He won't give up control while he lives. You know that. You couldn't expect him to."

"No, of course not. But if I held ten percent of the stock, I'd feel more secure."

Bat hung his clothes over a chair and sat down on the bed beside Toni. She beckoned him to lie back, to cuddle with her.

"If you held forty percent, he could still fire you any time he felt like it," she said.

"Right."

"But why did he shut you out of television production?" she asked. "The Glenda Grayson Show was your idea. You've done as much with Cord Productions as anybody could."

"I can think of two reasons," Bat said. "In the first place, he likes the glamour aspect of it. He was always bored with businesses like explosives and plastic, though for a long time they were his basic moneymakers. He liked the airline. He liked building airplanes and flying them himself as the test pilot. And he liked making pictures."

"That's one reason. What's the other?"

"As head of Cord Productions, I hired Jo-Ann. He's going to dump her. He doesn't want her anywhere near the business, any aspect of it."

"Does he hate her?"

"No, but he doesn't trust her. You can understand why."

"What kind of a job was she doing?" Toni asked.

"Good enough. Competent. But he won't let her work for him, and I don't think Monica will give her a job, either."

"She has a good education," said Toni. "Nothing prevents her from getting a job not working for her parents."

"She doesn't have to work. She can live very comfortably on what our father gives her. Of course, I understand how frustrated she has been, living on an allowance."

"Bat ..."

"Hmm?"

"You're not very happy, are you?"

"Well. I'm not accustomed to observing Christmas Eve by hearing a talk on the reorganization of the business."

"Yes, and you're full of tension. I've got a present for you. Just lie back and loosen up."

She put a pillow on his legs and laid her head on it, pressing her face against his belly. "I want to be comfy," she said in a low voice. "I figure on this taking a long time."

She opened her mouth and took his penis in. He saw what she meant by taking a long time. She licked very gently for a minute or so, then stopped licking and lazily nibbled his foreskin with her lips. She turned her big brown liquid eyes upward and watched his reaction. She smiled. Bat relaxed. She bent his penis to one side so she could lick along its length without having to lift her head from the pillow.

Bat moaned. He wouldn't think about his father anymore tonight.