The Doll Brokers (32 page)

Jonathan could not imagine her making up this story. And more than anything he wanted to find this Vincent fellow.

Suddenly, as if reading his mind, Verna opened her eyes and looked at him. “Don't even think of going after this guy,” she said. “He's … the devil!” She shut her eyes tight.

Jonathan felt the impact of her words. He rose to his feet and thanked her, told her he would return when she was feeling better. “We'll see you through this,” he promised.

Outside the hospital, Jonathan found his anger returning. Despite the fact that it was snowing, he broke out in a sweat. He ducked into a Starbucks on First Avenue, purchased a cup of Columbia Narino Supremo and took a seat at the back, away from the few other customers.

He sipped slowly, then pushed the coffee aside. From his jacket pocket he removed a small notepad and pen.

At the top of the page he wrote the name, Baby Talk N Glow. Then he drew a line straight down from just beneath the center of those words to the bottom. On the left side he made his list of bad guys, from Edmund Chow, to Richard Salsberg, to Mr. Vincent. In the center he wrote the names of those he wanted to trust but was still uncertain about: Koji Sashika, Charles Ling, Patrick, and Verna Sallinger. The list he completed on the right only included Felicia and Ann, the good guys.

Without thinking about it he started to sketch their faces. Although he wasn't a portraitist by nature, his drawing of Ann showed a real likeness.

Jonathan now thrust his pen in mid-air as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. He looked down at his list of names. When he came to Verna's, he paused. Had she been a means to an end, he wondered, or the prime target?

Edmund had disappeared with their money. The contract for the doll was most definitely in the hands of Mr. Vincent. Neither action had proven fatal because they had found the inventor of Baby Talk N Glow and he was willing to grant them the rights.

This left the attack on Ann in Hong Kong. And that was the part that disturbed Jonathan the most. Stealing the doll away from Hart Toy was one thing; hurting Ann was quite another.

Ann wanted this doll to succeed because she knew it would please Felicia. But what if the doll's introduction was only a side issue? What if someone out there was using Baby Talk N Glow to mask his true motive? What if Ann was the real target?

Goosebumps attacked Jonathan's skin as he jumped to his feet. Intuition was telling him he was on to something. If he did nothing else, he would have to protect her, at least until this mystery was solved.

Forgetting his favorite Columbian blend, he hustled through the coffee shop and out the door. The snow had picked up. He walked a few blocks before finding a taxi. He took out his cell phone to call Ann, to tell her to wait for him, to not move from her office until he got there …

I
t wasn't that many weeks later when Ann found herself standing on 11
^th
Avenue, halfway between 34
^th
and 39
^th
. Toy Fair was still important. The excitement and nervous tension Ann felt inside was the same as always.

Charles Ling had his money. Hart Toy had Baby Talk N Glow. Somehow, incredibly, they had come this far. Ann knew that this New York Toy Fair would not be her last stop, that she still had many months ahead of hard work, but at least she was finally aimed into the home stretch.

For a moment she just stood in front of the Javits Convention Center, letting the frigid February wind beat against her.

Years ago, Hart Toy and many others still had permanent offices and showrooms in the original Toy building, located at 200 5
^th
Avenue, a building that dated back to the early nineteen hundreds, once a hotel and host to Mark Twain, the Prince of Wales and various presidents.

Today, the massive Javits Center stood as an impersonal reminder of how the toy industry had changed, forsaking valuable tradition along with it.

Ann looked around. Where was Jonathan? He had said he'd meet her here.

They'd fought—one of their good, old fashioned, teeth-baring spats—over the issue of how overprotective he was being, and how she needed her space.

Ann heard the sound of a car stopping behind her. She pivoted on a heel. Jonathan, finally. Stepping out of a cab.

“You're late,” she said.

“The muse flew in from Bangladesh this morning.”

This was good. To the best of her knowledge, he hadn't lifted a paintbrush since their trip to Canada to film the TV commercial. But when she'd left his place this morning to swing by her apartment and pick up some things, he'd been in a strange, pensive mood.

He leaned in to kiss her hello. “Sorry. I lost track of time.”

Since they'd returned from Hong Kong, they'd settled into what Ann thought of as their New York Relationship. It was marginally different from their Traveling Relationship, and it was comfortable … to a point. More and more lately Jonathan had become obsessed with her safety. He attributed it to what had happened to her in Hong Kong, but she suspected there was more to it then that. The attack on Verna had shaken everyone. Maybe he assumed she would be next.

Now, they began jostling their way through the crowds, aiming for the nearest entrance they could find. See and be seen, Ann thought. She hadn't missed a Toy Fair since the first one Felicia had brought her to. And while there was far less importance placed on Toy Fair, this year, more than ever, she wanted to make an impact.

A clown shoved a balloon in her face. She hitched back a step, but Jonathan reached out and palmed it. “I'm a kid at heart,” he said, seeing her expression. Then he took her hand.

They dodged Disney and Sesame Street characters handing out buttons and brochures. An actor on stilts was plugging a new children's game. A shivering model in a red mini-skirt was trying to lure buyers to a company showroom.

“There's a thought,” Jonathan said, eyeing her. “Maybe we need to get you out here in that blue bikini. Might drum up a little business.”

Ann slid a jaundiced look at him.

They finally made it inside and were practically crushed by the crowd. Jonathan tried to stay connected to her, but she was being pulled in a half-dozen directions by various buyers and executives greeting her as she entered their midst.

Her energy began to surge.

“So many people…” Jonathan commented as they left one group and moved on.

“Not as many as a few years ago.” She elbowed past someone trying to get to the main hall.

“You're kidding.” He felt someone's arm collide with his back, heard a quick apology before the voice resumed hyping some toy product to a clutch of Asian men.

“Not kidding. Adding a show in October was bad enough. Then being forced out of the Toy Building and moving to Javits. The whole situation has discouraged not only buyers but some major manufacturers from attending. Pretty soon, there won't be a Toy Fair at all.”

They finally arrived at their destination. Javits allowed those companies willing to spend the money to put up temporary showrooms with a guarantee of privacy. The cost was alarming but Ann considered it a necessity.

She tossed her briefcase on the desk in her closet-sized office. “C'mon,” she said looking at her watch. “Let's go see how things are going.”

Inside their showroom, in the children's bedroom they'd constructed, Baby Talk N Glow was everywhere. On the bed, on the dresser, on the desk.

Ann assigned one of their salesmen to handle the flow of traffic. Only one major buyer would be permitted in at a time. At the moment, it was Alison Steinfeld from Toys ‘R' Us.

Lisette Smile, the girl from the commercial, was hosting the presentation. The child was completely calm and at ease. No wonder, Ann thought, her mother was nowhere to be seen. Lisette was inviting people to have a seat in her “bedroom.” The lights dimmed. A spotlight came on, and Lisette began demonstrating Baby Talk N Glow. She was rewarded with scattered applause.

Then the seductive and attention-getting voice of the WNBC announcer they'd hired cut in, explaining the miniature nickel cadmium battery and its five-year shelf life.

Lisette carried the doll to Alison Steinfeld.

Ann held her breath. The child caught the buyer's hand and put it to the doll's lips.

“Hello, Alison,” Baby Talk N Glow said. “Thank you for visiting us today. Would you please touch my heart?”

Steinfeld smiled and followed the instructions asked of her.

“Can you feel it beating?” the doll asked.

Steinfeld jolted a little. “Yes,” she said—as though the doll could understand her.

“I hope you'll carry me at Toys ‘R' Us, Alison,” Baby Talk N Glow said. “I love you.”

Steinfeld laughed out loud. “I love you, too.”

“Hey, that's pretty good,” Jonathan whispered.

Ann nodded absently. And there, she thought, went thousands of dollars. Other companies might have used a similar concept in the past, but never in such an elaborate manner. She'd had recordings personalized for each of the top twenty buyers. The secret was in the voice, pumped in through the doll by wireless transmitter, monitored by a technician.

Soon afterwards, Steinfeld talked about possibly upping her commitment … a little. Maybe to seventy-five thousand pieces from fifty. Ann told herself it was still nowhere near what it should be, but at least it was something.

The day wore on. Byron Young of Walmart was a no-show and Ann wondered if he was still bothered by the things she'd said to him when they met in Arkansas. Then Tom Carlisle of Kmart arrived.

He'd been the first buyer to come through for her. Ann hoped her greeting wasn't fawning. Maybe it was, she thought five minutes later, because something was definitely off with the man. Carlisle went through the motions of his own presentation, but he showed none of his earlier delight in the doll.

Gerry McGuire from Brown's showed up at the same time, apparently to schmooze with Ann and Jonathan as if they had become his best friends. Ann was trying to ease away from him when Carlisle quietly slipped out the showroom door.

“Oh, no, you don't,” Ann muttered to herself.

She left Jonathan and Gerry abruptly to follow Carlisle into the hall. Where had he gone? She looked right, left, then saw him approaching a competitor's showroom. Ann sprinted to catch up. “Tom! Wait!”

He looked back at her. She reached him just as he was pushing the door open.

“What is it?” she demanded. “Is something wrong? You can't hold up your end of the commitment? What?”

“It's nothing, Ann. You're fine. Calm down.”

She had known him too long, had been doing business with him for too many years, to believe that. He was acting odd. “Something's up,” she said.

He hesitated. “It shouldn't affect you in the least.”

“
What
shouldn't?”

Carlisle let out a breath. “Kmart's asking me to take early retirement. I'll bring the new guy around to see you tomorrow.”

“Is my commitment safe?” she asked. And Ann immediately had a mental image of herself shriveling down to something the size of a worm. “Tom, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. Business is business. As I said, you're okay, as far as I know.”

As far as I know.
Something else to tie her in knots. “What about you? What are you going to do? Are you going to be okay?” All the questions she should have asked before talking about his commitment, Ann thought.

He lifted his hands in supplication, maybe in resignation.

“This is ridiculous,” Ann said. “You're far too young to retire.”

“I'm also too damned honorable,” Carlisle added.

“What does that mean?” Ann watched a play of contradictions cross his face. She thought at first that he was going to turn away, but there was nowhere for him to go.

“Tom, talk to me, please. There's something more to this, isn't there?”

He looked over her shoulder. Ann actually pivoted to see who he was staring at. No one in the hall seemed to warrant undue attention. “Rumor had it that you were going under with the doll,” he said.

“Rumor is wrong,” she snapped. “Patrick Morhardt was arrested but it was all a misunderstanding. You know the press—quick to accuse, much slower to recant.”

“Still, I heard someone else was going to get Baby Talk N Glow.”

“Not true. “She shook her head.

“You had ownership problems.” It was a statement, not a question.

“
Had
, Tom. Past tense. It's all straightened out. Sure, everyone in the industry tried to take her off our hands for a while. But they've backed off.”

He looked away again. What was he afraid of? What—who—was he looking for?

“Someone did more than try,” he said. “He pretty much promised us that he had her. He was offering huge bonuses if we'd hold off, wait and commit to him instead of you.”

A moment of dizziness swept over Ann as she tried to put together what he was saying.

Carlisle leaned closer to her. His breath smelled of salsa and onions. “Ann, didn't you wonder why I turned you down at first?”

Of course, she had. That whole trip to the American retailers had been absurdly abysmal. “I thought you were out of your mind.”

“How did it go with the other buyers on that trip?”

“Like crap.”

He turned to move away. Ann grabbed his arm. “Please…”

He shook her grip off. “I don't have much left to lose, Ann. I'm going to be out of this business within a few weeks. But I've got my family, damn it, and I'm not going to go out on a limb.
Think
about it. That's all I can say.”

Out on a limb? For
her
? “Someone twisted your arm into turning me down? Tried to
bribe
you?” Her thoughts leaped. “And now they're forcing you out of the company because you went ahead and gave me an order anyway?
Who?
”