Read Online You Live Once by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John D. MacDonald
Ads: Link
love it. There is always more than just keeping the thing running. Right now, coordinating with Engineering, I was in the middle of changing one of the lines, unbolting equipment, jackhammering places for new equipment, resetting conveyor lines. Sales, in New York, was hollering. I knew that once the new line was set and checked out, we’d have to go on two-shift operation.
I like to get there early. I like to stand out on the catwalk and look down for a few minutes at the silent waiting equipment. Its arrangement is an exercise in logic. All the beds and housings and turrets are cold grey, and all the moving parts are bright Chinese red. It is a goodplace to work. It is clean, air conditioned, well lighted. Labor relations are pretty good. C.P.P. is very mildly paternalistic, but not so much that the guy on the machine wishes they’d knock off the expensive fluff and put the difference in his envelope.
I took my morning look at the floor and then went into the small office next to mine where my records clerk works. I studied the big score board, made a mental note of the weak spots and went into my own office. It is air conditioned and sound-proofed, but with the door shut once the day gets going, the rumble of the floor can make you feel as though you’re on an ocean liner. People go in and out my door all day long. Every time the door is opened the blast of pure noise, metal-cutting noise, is monstrous.
I had picked up a morning paper on the way to work, but I hadn’t had a chance to do more than glance at a fat black headline— OLAN HEIRESS MISSING . I had expected newspaper coverage, but not so much. This went all the way across the top of page one, dwarfing a second headline about a Paris conference. I hadn’t known Mary Olan was quite that important.
I spread the paper out on my desk to read the account. Warren has two papers, the morning
Ledger-Tribune
and the evening
Ledger-Record
, both owned by the same firm. Except on Monday, the morning paper is usually a warmed over version of the evening paper. They are excessively dull papers, full of editorial caution, unwilling to offend any local group. No particularly controversial syndicate columnist is ever used.
The subhead said, CAR FOUND ABANDONED NEAR HIGHLAND .
Mary Olan, twenty-six-year-old niece of Mr. and Mrs. Willis Pryor of this city, and heiress to the Rolph Olan estate, has been missing since late Saturday evening, and police state today that no trace of her has been found. A late model black convertible found yesterdaynear an abandoned farm south of Highlands was identified as belonging to the missing woman. A search of the surrounding area has been organized.
Miss Olan left the Pryor home on Saturday at noon, alone. She lunched at the Locust Ridge Club and, during the afternoon, played golf with Miss Neale Bettiger. She had taken other clothing to the club with her, and she dressed there and met friends for dinner and a club dance. She left the club after midnight, with the stated intention of returning to her home. It has been reported that Miss Olan did not seem disturbed or emotionally upset in any way.
Police have not ruled out the possibility of kidnaping, and a close watch is being kept on the Pryor home. They found no evidence of foul play in Miss Olan’s automobile. She was last seen wearing a white skirt, a dark grey sleeveless blouse and high-heeled dark grey shoes. She is five feet four, brunette and weighs approximately a hundred and twenty pounds. Her eyes are grey.
Miss Olan is the granddaughter of Thomas Burke Olan who founded the Warren Citizens Bank and Trust Company, and Olan Tool and Die, which is now the Federated Tool Company, Inc.
Miss Olan was born in this city at the old Olan home on Prospect Street, now headquarters of the Heart of America Historical Association, which was given the property under the terms of Mr. Rolph Olan’s will. Miss Olan was educated in private schools here and abroad, and has made her home
I like to get there early. I like to stand out on the catwalk and look down for a few minutes at the silent waiting equipment. Its arrangement is an exercise in logic. All the beds and housings and turrets are cold grey, and all the moving parts are bright Chinese red. It is a goodplace to work. It is clean, air conditioned, well lighted. Labor relations are pretty good. C.P.P. is very mildly paternalistic, but not so much that the guy on the machine wishes they’d knock off the expensive fluff and put the difference in his envelope.
I took my morning look at the floor and then went into the small office next to mine where my records clerk works. I studied the big score board, made a mental note of the weak spots and went into my own office. It is air conditioned and sound-proofed, but with the door shut once the day gets going, the rumble of the floor can make you feel as though you’re on an ocean liner. People go in and out my door all day long. Every time the door is opened the blast of pure noise, metal-cutting noise, is monstrous.
I had picked up a morning paper on the way to work, but I hadn’t had a chance to do more than glance at a fat black headline— OLAN HEIRESS MISSING . I had expected newspaper coverage, but not so much. This went all the way across the top of page one, dwarfing a second headline about a Paris conference. I hadn’t known Mary Olan was quite that important.
I spread the paper out on my desk to read the account. Warren has two papers, the morning
Ledger-Tribune
and the evening
Ledger-Record
, both owned by the same firm. Except on Monday, the morning paper is usually a warmed over version of the evening paper. They are excessively dull papers, full of editorial caution, unwilling to offend any local group. No particularly controversial syndicate columnist is ever used.
The subhead said, CAR FOUND ABANDONED NEAR HIGHLAND .
Mary Olan, twenty-six-year-old niece of Mr. and Mrs. Willis Pryor of this city, and heiress to the Rolph Olan estate, has been missing since late Saturday evening, and police state today that no trace of her has been found. A late model black convertible found yesterdaynear an abandoned farm south of Highlands was identified as belonging to the missing woman. A search of the surrounding area has been organized.
Miss Olan left the Pryor home on Saturday at noon, alone. She lunched at the Locust Ridge Club and, during the afternoon, played golf with Miss Neale Bettiger. She had taken other clothing to the club with her, and she dressed there and met friends for dinner and a club dance. She left the club after midnight, with the stated intention of returning to her home. It has been reported that Miss Olan did not seem disturbed or emotionally upset in any way.
Police have not ruled out the possibility of kidnaping, and a close watch is being kept on the Pryor home. They found no evidence of foul play in Miss Olan’s automobile. She was last seen wearing a white skirt, a dark grey sleeveless blouse and high-heeled dark grey shoes. She is five feet four, brunette and weighs approximately a hundred and twenty pounds. Her eyes are grey.
Miss Olan is the granddaughter of Thomas Burke Olan who founded the Warren Citizens Bank and Trust Company, and Olan Tool and Die, which is now the Federated Tool Company, Inc.
Miss Olan was born in this city at the old Olan home on Prospect Street, now headquarters of the Heart of America Historical Association, which was given the property under the terms of Mr. Rolph Olan’s will. Miss Olan was educated in private schools here and abroad, and has made her home
Similar Books
