A visit by Kate Barrett to the three-story department store that bore her married name was always something of an occasion; not, perhaps, to the hundreds of customers who milled about in search of bargains, but the word spread like brush-fire among the various clerks and cashiers and floorwalkers. Kate Barrett is here in person! Dozens of sales were briefly interrupted as employees glanced up for a furtive glimpse of the woman who effectively controlled their working lives. One word from this tall, attractive redhead could put them on unemployment; no one failed to realize her power as far as this successful business was concerned. And the same unspoken question was on everyone's lips – why had she come to the store?
Kate, alone, moved swiftly through the afternoon crowds, mostly housewives and small children, until she reached the employee's elevator that would take her to Karl Henderson's penthouse offices. She liked dropping in unannounced, if only because it always seemed to make the General Manager so nervous; Henderson was an efficient overseer, but too afraid for his job to suit Kate Barrett. He had been John's personal choice, though, and she would never have gone against the weak-chinned balding little man for fear of tangling with the directors. Kate tightly controlled the corporation, but still the directors had to be kept smiling. As long as the store showed a substantial profit, why should she concern herself with a faceless nobody like Karl Henderson, she asked herself.
An occasional older employee, emboldened with seniority, nodded or smiled greetings to the company matriarch as she passed, and Kate was all teeth and fluttering eyelids. Kate was known as a woman of steel to everyone she had ever dealt with, but she effectively camouflaged her toughness with a Southern belle charm that was often her most potent weapon.
«Good afternoon, Kate … it's nice to see you here again.» She spun around instantly, surprised but not offended at the informality; it was Sol Marcus, one of the store's oldest employees. Sol was more like family than employee, and Kate hurried to kiss him on the cheek. John had hired him personally, back before the last war, and though he was way overdue for forced retirement, the Board of Directors, at Kate's heavy-handed insistence, had voted to keep him on as sort of a floorwalker emeritus. Sol had often told his friends that retirement would be the death of him; he had no family, no really close friends, just the store.
«Sol, it's been ages! Why don't you ever come out to Valley Farms like you used to? Lucy and I would love to see you!»
The slight, bespectacled man looked down at the floor as if embarrassed. «I guess I should have come … but I just didn't know if I'd be welcome, now that John – Mr. Barrett – is gone.»
«Nonsense, Sol! You just come anytime. Call me ahead of time and I'll fix you a nice home-cooked meal, just like the old times.»
With what looked like a tear in his eye, the graying old man took Kate's hand and squeezed it firmly with surprising strength. «Thank you, Kate, I'd love to. Thank you.» And then he turned silently and returned to his job of watching over the appliance section, a highly unlikely spot for shoplifting and actually a section created just for him. Kate waved hello to one other recognized old-timer and entered the elevator for the swift ride to the penthouse; she was certain, of course, that Karl Henderson's secretary had already received at least a half-dozen warnings from various friends on the first floor that she was on her way up. That always made it even more fun to watch the look of feigned surprise as she stepped into the green-carpeted foyer of the executive suite.
The stainless-steel doors parted with a pneumatic sigh, and Kate stepped onto the luxuriously thick carpeting and waited for Miss Randal, the executive receptionist, to look up and «discover» that the prime shareholder and Chairwoman of the Board of Directors was paying a call.
«Why, Mrs. Barrett!» she fairly shrieked, «What a delightful surprise!» She had that syrupy voice common to all receptionists, a tone that somehow lacked a shred of real emotion.
«Good afternoon, Miss Randal,» Kate said officiously; receptionists were not, as a rule, her favorite people. «Is Mr. Henderson in?» He damn well better be; we don't pay him to stay out of the office!
«Yes, ma'am, he's on a call to one of our buyers in New York, but I'm sure he'll interrupt it to see you. Just a moment, let me buzz him.»
«Thank you, I'd appreciate that.» Buyer in New York, indeed: who does she think she's fooling! Karl Henderson wouldn't condescend to speak to a buyer unless it was absolutely necessary!
Almost before the pretty young receptionist could get the words from her lips, the heavy wooden door marked Private opened with a noisy bang and Karl Henderson nearly threw himself into the foyer. «Kate! What a surprise! Come in, come in!»
Henderson made a flourishing gesture that was almost a bow and swept her into his spacious penthouse office with a gentle motion of his hand. The suite was tastefully done, decorated solely with merchandise the store handled and accented with a few odds and ends the company's interior designer had chosen; it was relatively simple and stark, befitting a retail merchandiser, and possessed what would have to be one of the most beautiful views in the suburban sprawl of the nation's capital. In the murky distance, you could actually catch a glimpse through the smog of the city's various monuments; the Washington monument stuck up through the brown haze somewhat appropriately as a single upraised finger.
«Sit down, Kate, love, and make yourself comfortable. Would you care for a drink? Or maybe some hors d'oeuvres from the dining room?»
«No, thanks, Karl,» she answered with a dismissing wave of her wrist. «I'm here on business this trip and I'll try to make it quick.»
«Oh …» Karl Henderson looked momentarily shaken, and his retailer's smile vanished in a trickle from his lips.
«Now don't go getting all worried, Karl. This is personal business, not store business. I have a problem maybe you can help me with.»
«Oh! Indeed!» His smile had mysteriously returned and Henderson was his ebullient self. «Anything for you, Kate, you know that!»
«I'll get straight to the point, Karl. We had a break-in last night out at our house …»
«A break-in! Goodness, did you call the police?»
«Yes, yes … actually whoever it was didn't get in. They got scared away when we turned on the lights. But it all got me thinking … two women alone in that big house with God-knows-who riding around the streets. Well, I want to do something to give us a bit more security. What do you recommend? A burglar alarm?»
«Just a second, Kate. Let's bring in an expert … our security chief, Allen Biggs. I'll call him up here.» He pressed a button on his intercom, and when Miss Darnel's voice chirped through, he gave instructions for Biggs to be sent for from his office in the basement. Henderson talked shop for a few minutes while they awaited the security man, but also as friends; Karl had heard that Mrs. Barrett never approved of John's choice, but he had grown used to that and simply tried not to worry about his tenure. Worrying was most of the game in the retail trade – worry about being overstocked, about being under- stocked, about the competition undercutting you, about the competition getting more for the same merchandise. Worry, worry, worry … he needed another worry like an extra leg! Kate Barrett was the boss here now and Karl accepted it as something he could do nothing to change.
There was a buzz from the desk outside, and a couple of words passed through the communications system from the store's general manager, and when the door opened once again there was a uniformed man standing there looking for all the world like a policeman. Kate nearly gasped with astonishment but she stifled it in time; was this man an employee of Barrett's? What was this uniform?
«Kate, I'd like you to meet Allen Biggs, our head of security. Allen, Mrs. Barrett.» There was a flurry of exchanged greetings and then everyone settled into comfortable armchairs around the manager's rosewood desk. «Suppose you tell Allen what you told me, Kate. If there's anything he doesn't know about security, it hasn't been invented yet! He's cut our shoplifting and burglary in half since he signed on with us.»
«Oh, how wonderful,» Kate said somewhat lamely. «I didn't even know we had a crime problem at Barrett's. I never recall John mentioning anything about that in the past. Maybe a couple of shoplifters now and then, but nothing the floorwalkers couldn't handle.»
«That was in the good old days, Kate, back before there were so many hoodlums about. You simply wouldn't believe the problems we've had! But I won't bore you with all that; tell Allen what your own problem is and he'll tell you how to go about solving it. I have absolute faith in Allen here when it comes to security!»
Kate told the whole story about the break-in, how she lived alone in a big rambling house with her daughter, and then,» … And naturally, I figured some kind of burglar alarm system would be the answer. You know, one of those fancy electronic deals that picks up any movement where it shouldn't be and notifies the police or whatever. But you tell me, Mr. Biggs, you're the expert.»
Allen Biggs ran his fingers through his rapidly-thinning hair and shook his head. «No offense, ma'am, but I think a burglar alarm system is a waste of good money. They're all right maybe for a big empty warehouse, some kind of confined space where you know definitely when and where there is to be authorized movement, but not for a house. There are just too many things to go wrong … and besides, most of the burglars know more about beating the systems than we know about installing them!
«Then what do you suggest I do? Build a wall with an electric fence on top?»
«No, Mrs. Barrett, that might be a little hasty just yet; wait until the crime really gets bad before you send out for the masons. But seriously, I do think there is a practical solution, particularly practical because of your close relationship with the store.»
«Goodness, tell me,» Kate smiled. «You've really got my interest up now!»
«I suggest you get a trained guard dog.»
«A dog?! What on earth would I do with a dog? I know absolutely nothing about taking care of one of those beasts. And anyway, I'd probably be more afraid of him than a burglar! John … my late husband … never cared much for animals so we never had one around the house. Oh, I don't know, it just doesn't sound like the solution for me.»
«Well, you're the boss, Mrs. Barrett, but could I make one suggestion before you make up your mind completely?»
«What's that?»
«How about coming downstairs with me and taking a look at the dog I have in mind for you; he's something really special.»
Kate Barrett was confused. «A dog here? When did Barrett's start selling pets, Karl?»
Allen answered for his superior. «He's not for sale, ma'am, at least not to the public. He's one of our four nighttime patrol dogs, especially trained to look for trespassers lurking about the store or the warehouse out back. This one's a bit unusual, because he seems to like people so much. Don't get me wrong, he can be vicious when he's required to be, but he seems sort of lonely, somehow, in that night patrol job. I was thinking of selling him and getting another, but if you like him, he's yours. I'll bring him out to your house and get him used to you and your daughter. All you'd have to do is dump a bit of feed into his bucket every morning and he'll do the rest.»
«Oh, but isn't it dangerous having a dog like that around? What if …»
«Please, Mrs. Barrett, just take a look at him first. Then, if you're still not interested, we'll forget the whole thing and I'll install the best available burglar alarm on the market in your house. But it won't come close to doing the job Matthew will.»
«All right, let's have a look at this super-dog; I've got nothing to lose by looking. But I still don't like the idea!»
It was always dark in the special section of the store's basement where the four security dogs, Matthew, Mark, Luke amp; John, lived behind locked doors in their individual chain-link runs and plywood houses. Their working hours were at night, therefore it was necessary to keep this part of the basement in near-darkness all day so that the husky animals would get their sleep: the only daylight they ever saw was the short time between dawn and the store's opening and, in the summer months, the brief twilight after closing time. Their task was simple and to the point – intercept and detain anyone found inside the store after closing-up time. There was always a security man on duty, one they would recognize should one of them come across him in their rounds, but he nearly never left his glassed-in cubicle on the main floor. Occasionally one of the executives might return for some late-night work, but he would enter by the employees' entrance next to the security man's desk and take the elevator directly to the executive offices which were not patrolled by the German shepherds. Should they discover someone hiding inside the store, they were trained to hold him with a clamp of their powerful jaws while the other dog (they worked in pairs) barked to signal the security man who had a monitoring device next to his desk that would pick-up their sounds from anywhere in the huge building. Twice already they had proven themselves worth their initial cost and training – once when they knocked a trespasser to his knees and held him until the armed security guard handcuffed him for the police; he was found to be a three-time convicted burglar and carried tools that indicated he was after the fine jewelry in that department's locked security drawers. Their second success was with a shoplifter who had hidden inside the store until after closing, hoping foolishly to find a way out with the stolen merchandise he had concealed in every pocket of his clothing.
Matthew was just waking up from a long, fitful sleep when he heard Allen's voice outside the locked door that connected their section with the storage portion of the huge basement room; it was the wrong time of day for a feeding, but there was something else even odder – he had others with him. Allen nearly never brought anyone into this portion of the store; not that it was dangerous, the dogs were trained to go into action only during their nightly patrols. But Allen wanted these animals to know as few people as possible, so as not to confuse their sensitive scent-detecting skills.
Matthew was on his feet in less than a second, ears perked up high, twitching from side to side as he strained to pick up any noises he could from outside the door. His companions had heard their master's approach as well, and now they were all pushing against the sturdy chain-link fence at the front of their runs, eagerly awaiting this unaccustomed surprise visit.
«Matthew! Mark! How are you, fellows? Luke! John!» greeted Allen Biggs from the doorway. He was greeted by a cacophony of howls and barks as his well-trained German shepherds heralded his entrance.
«My, what a greeting!» exclaimed Kate Barrett. «Are they always this happy to receive visitors?»
«Only lovely ones like yourself,» answered the security chief gallantly.
«My, you are a flatterer! I might have to see Henderson about getting you a raise!»
«Thanks, I could use it. Seriously, though, I doubt if any of these animals have ever seen a woman before. You're most likely the first.»
«What!? You must be joking! Surely they've seen women before. How about the cleaning women? And all the salesclerks that are female?»
Biggs closed the heavy steel door to the rest of the basement and switched on the red lamps overhead, bathing the whole of the kennel area with a weird red-orange glow. The dogs had quieted down at one word from him and the only noise was the low muffled whine of the ventilation system sucking out the stale air and replenishing the area with fresh. «We had to do some rescheduling when we started using dogs at night,» he explained. «Oh, I hope you don't mind the red lights – we never turn on the bright lights, it keeps them adjusted to the dim night lights in the store. Anyway, as I was saying, we have the cleaning crews start now just as the store is closing; that way, when they're finished and ready to leave, we take the dogs up to their assigned floors and there they stay until one of the guards comes for them in the morning.»
«For dogs that never see anybody except guards and criminals, they seem awful friendly. Are you sure these dogs are vicious enough?» Kate asked jokingly.
«They're that, all right, and more. But only when they have to be. That's the difference between a well-trained watchdog and some half- crazy vicious mongrel that would be better off put to sleep. My dogs are professionals, just like anyone who is well-trained and skilled at his work. They can be as vicious as any animal on earth if they are forced to be, but when they are off duty, they're just as friendly as the dog next door. Maybe more so since they so seldom see people. You might compare it to a police officer – on duty, he can shoot to kill without a moment's hesitation if he's forced to. Yet that same man might be the gentlest guy on the block with the neighborhood kids when he's not working. That's how it is with these fine animals – professionals, they are, and nothing less.»
«Well, you're starting to convince me, I have to admit. Now, which one is the one you recommend for my daughter and me?»
Allen moved to the first fenced run and opened the gate; Kate backed away instinctively as a great, furry beast of a dog bounded forth and hurried to her side. «Don't be afraid … he won't hurt you. He knows you're a friend because you came in with me. This is Matthew, the animal I thought you might consider. He's just not cut out for this kind of work somehow. Oh, mind you, he's a fine watchdog, incredibly smart, almost human in his actions sometimes. But he seems to need people around; some dogs are like that, they thrive on human attention. And Matthew happens to be one of those – he's not happy being alone with just the other dogs all the time. He'd make you a fine watchdog and companion, I can promise!»
Kate Barrett eyed the finely proportioned German shepherd with the keen eye of an experienced buyer – indeed, that had been her trade when John Barrett first noticed her and invited her out for dinner. But she found herself strangely unable to appraise this handsome specimen with the cold-blooded attachment she could usually muster. God, she thought silently, he is a beautiful devil! And that face of his, why it's so much like a human's it's uncanny! You can almost read his thoughts through those beautiful brown eyes!
She had made her mind up already; or, more accurately, it was made up for her. «I'll take him,» she said with certainty.
«Wonderful!» exclaimed the security chief. «You won't be sorry, Mrs. Barrett. Taking Matthew into your home may be the best move you ever made!»