Wheels (28 page)

Brett interceded; nothing bothered him for long. He told Barbara, "It's
okay; he doesn't have to. We had a mild misunderstanding. Right, Mr. Z.?
"No!
" Barbara, usually patient with her father, stood her ground. She
insisted, "Apologize I If you don't, I'll leave here now. With Brett.
I mean it
.”

Matt realized she did.
Unhappily, not really understanding anything, including children who
grew up and talked
1 88- disrespectfully to parents, young people generally who behaved the way
they did; missing his wife, Freda, now dead a year, who would have
never let this happen to begin with, Matt mumbled an apology, then
locked the atrium door and went to bed.
Soon after, Brett said goodnight to Barbara, and left.

Chapter
twelve

Now, winter gripped the Motor City. November bad gone, then Christmas, and
in early January the snow was deep, with skiing in northern Michigan, and
ice heaped high and solidly along the shores of Lakes St. Clair and Erie.
As the new year came in, so preparations intensified for the Orion's
debut, scheduled for mid-September. Manufacturing division, already
huddled over plans for months, moved closer to plant conversions which
would start in June, to produce the first production run Orion-job One,
as it was called-in August. Then, six weeks of production-shrouded in
secrecy-would be needed before the car's public unveiling. Meanwhile,
Purchasing nervously co-ordinated an armada of materials, ordered, and
due on vital days, while Sales and Marketing began hardening their
endlessly debated, oft-changed plans for dealer introductions and
promotion. Public Relations pressed forward with groundwork for its
Lucullan freeload which would accompany the Orion's introduction to the
press. Other divisions, in greater or less degree according to their
functions, joined in the preparation.
And while the Orion program progressed, many in the company gave thought
to Farstar, which would follow Orion, though its timing, shape, and
substance were not yet known. Among these were Adam Trenton and Brett
DeLosanto.
Something else which Adam was concerned with in January was the review
of his sister Teresa's investment, bequeathed by her dead husband, in
the auto dealership of Smokey Stephensen.
Approval from the company for Adam to
involve himself with one of its dealers, however tenuously, had taken
longer than expected, and had been given grudgingly after discussion by
the Conflict of Interest committee. In the end, Hub Hewitson, executive
vice-president, made a favorable ruling after Adam approached him person
ally. However, now that the time had come to fulfill his promise to
Teresa, Adam realized how little he really needed, or wanted, an extra
responsibility. His work load had grown, and an awareness of physical
tension still bothered him. At home, relations with Erica seemed neither
better nor worse, though he accepted the justice of his wife's
complaint-repeated recently-that nowadays they had scarcely any time
together. Soon, he resolved, he would find a way to put that right, but
first, having accepted this new commitment, he would see it through.
Thus, on a Saturday morning, after arrangements made by telephone, Adam
paid his first call on Smokey Stephensen.
The Stephensen dealership was in the northern suburbs, close to the
boundary lines of Troy and Birmingham. Its location was good-on an important crosstown route, with Woodward Avenue, a main northwest artery,
only a few blocks away.
Smokey, who had clearly been watching the street outside, strode through
the showroom doorway onto the sidewalk, as Adam stepped from his car.
The ex-race driver, heavily bearded and now corpulent in middle-age,
boomed, "Welcome I Welcomel" He wore a dark blue silk jacket with carefully creased black slacks and a wide, brightly patterned tie.
"Good morning," Adam said, 'I'm
"No need to tell M
el
.
Seen your pictu
re in Automotive News. Step in!
"
The dealer held the showroom doorway wide.
We always say there's only
two reasons for a man to pass thr
ough here-to
get out of the rain or buy himself wheels. I guess you're the exception
.”

Inside he declared, "Within half an hour we'll be using 6rst names. I
always say, why wait that long?' He held out a bear paw of a hand. "I'm
Smokey
.”

"I'm Adam," Adam said. He managed not to wince as his hand was squeezed.
"Let me have your car keys
.”

Smokey beckoned a young salesman who
hurried across the showroom floor. "Park Mr. Trenton's car carefully,
and don't sell it. Also, be sure you treat him with respect. His sister
owns forty-nine percent of this joint, and if business don't pick up by
noon, I may mail her the other fifty-one
.”

He winked broadly at Adam.
"It's an anxious time for all of us," Adam said. He knew, from sales
reports, that a post-holiday lull was being felt this year by all auto
makers and deale
r
s. Yet, if only car buyers knew, this was the best
time in any year to make a favorable financial deal. With dealers
heavily stocked with cars forced on them by factories, and sometimes
desperate to reduce inventory, a shrewd car buyer might save several
hundred dollars on a medium
priced car, compared with buying a month or
so later.
. I should be selling color televisions," Smokey growled. "That's what
dopes put money in around Christmas and New Year's
.”

"But you did well at model changeover
.”

"Sure did
.”

The dealer brightened. "You seen the figures, Adam
.”

"My sister sent them to me
.”

"Never fails. You'd think people'd learn. Fortunately l'or us, they
don't
.”

Smokey glanced at Adam as they walked across the showroom. "You
understand, I'm speaking freely
.”

Adam nodded. "I think we should both do that
.”

He knew, of course, what Smokey Stephensen meant. At model introduction
time-from September through November-dealers could sell every new car
which factories would let them have. Then, instead of protesting the
number of cars consigned-as they did at other times of year -dealers
pleaded for more. And despite all adverse publicity about automobiles,
the public still flocked to buy when models were new, or after major
changes. What such buyers didn't know, or didn't care, about, was that
this was open season on customers, when dealers could be toughest in
bargaining; also, the early cars after any production change were
invariably less well made than others which would follow a few months
later. With any new model, manufacturing snags inevitably arose while
engineers, foremen, and hourly workers learned to make the car. Equally
predictable were shortages of components or parts, resulting in
manufacturing improvisations which ignored quality standards. As a
result, an early car was often a poor buy from a quality point of view.
Knowledgeable buyers wanting a new model waited until four to six months
after production began. By that time, chances were, they would get a
better car because bugs would have been eliminated and production-except
for Monday and Friday labor problems which persisted through all
seasons-would be smoothly settled down.
Smokey Stephensen declared, 'Everything's wide open to you here,
Adam-like a whorehouse with the roof off. You can see our books, files,
inventories, you name it; just the way your sister would, as she's
entitled to. And ask questions, you'll get straight answers
.”

"You can count on questions," Adam said, "and later I'll need to see
those things you mentioned.
What I also want--which may take longer-is to get a feeling about the way
you operate
.”

"Sure, sure; any way you want is fine with me
.”

The auto dealer led the
way up a flight of stairs to a mezzanine which ran the length of the
showroom below. Most of the mezzanine was occupied by offices. At the
top of the stairs the two men paused to look down, viewing the cars of
various model lines, polished, immaculate, colorful, which dominated the
showroom floor. Along one side of the showroom were several cubicle
type
offices, glass-paneled, for use by salesmen. An open doorway gave access
to a corridor, leading to Parts and Service, out of sight.
Already, at midmorning, despite the quiet season, several people were
viewing the cars, with salesmen hovering nearby.
"Your sister's got a good thing going herepoor old Clyde's dough working
for her and all them kids
.”

Smokey glanced at Adam shrewdly.
What's Teresa stewing over? She's been getting checks. We'll have a
year-end audited statement soon
.”

Adam pointed out, "Mostly it's the long term Teresa's thinking of. You
know I'm here to advise her: Should she sell her stock or not
.”

"Yeah, I know
.”

Smokey ruminated. "I don't mind telling you, Adam, if
you advise 'sell,' It will
make things rugged for me
.”

"Why
.”

"Because I couldn't raise the dough to buy Teresa's stock. Not now, with
money tight
.”

"As I understand it," Adam said, "if Teresa decides to sell her share
of the business, you have a sixty-day option to buy her out. If you
don't, then she's free to sell elsewhere
.”

Smokey acknowledged, "That's the way of it
.”

But his tone was glum.
What Smokey didn't relish, obviously, was the
possibility of a new partner, perhaps fearing that someone else would want
to be active in the business or could prove more troublesome than a widow
two thousand miles away. Adam wondered what, precisely, lay behind
Smokey's unease. Was it a natural wish to run his own show without
interference, or were things happening in the dealership which he
preferred others not to know? Whatever the reason, Adam intended to find
out if he could.
"Let's go in my office, Adam
.”

They moved from the open mezzanine into
a small but comfortable room,
furnished with green leather ar
mchairs
and a sofa. A desk top and a swivel chair had the same material. Smokey
saw Adam look around.
"The guy I got to furnish this wanted it all red. I told him, 'Nuts to
that.
The only red
’
ll ever get in this business'll be by accident
.”

'
One side of the office, almost entirely window, fronted the mezzanine.
The dealer and Adam stood looking down at the showroom as if from a
ship's bridge.
Adam motioned toward the row of sales offices below, "You have a
monitoring system
.”

For the first time, Smokey hesitated. "Yeah
.”

"I'd like to listen. The sales booth right there
.”

In one of the
glassed enclosures a young salesman, with a boyish face and a shock of
blond hair, faced two prospective customers, a man and a woman. Papers
were spread over a desk between them
.”

"I guess you can
.”

Smokey was less than enthusiastic. But he opened a
sliding panel near his desk to reveal several switches, one of which he
clicked. Immediately, voices became audible through a speaker recessed
into the wall.
. . . course, we can order the model you want in Meadow Green
.”

The
voice was obviously
the young salesman's. "Too bad we don't have one in stock
.”