Body Copy - Michael Craven [28]
Tyler walked out of his office to where Tremaine stood.
“Tyler Wilkes,” he said, extending a hand.
Tremaine was now seated in a chair in front of Tyler’s massive black desk.
“Do you like our offices? They’re pretty new still,”
Tyler said. Tremaine looked at this guy, his cocky smile.
“They remind me of the Gale/Parker offices,” Tremaine said.
“But not in a way that looks like we ripped them off, right?” Tyler sucked in air through his nose.
The bathroom trip.
Tyler continued talking. “We didn’t copy them, their style, I mean. Their style in terms of the office is what I’m saying. Or their style in terms of advertising! We would never do that. And the ad community knows that.”
Tremaine didn’t say anything. Tyler asked him another 86
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question. “So what is this about? The Roger Gale case from a year ago?”
“Sure,” Tremaine said. “We can talk about that.”
“Hey, I’ve already answered those questions. I had nothing to do with that guy getting killed. I’ve got nothing more to say on the issue. If you want to hear the things I said, you can just go look at the police files. P.I.s can do that, right? I talked to the cops over and over. I’ve told them everything I know. Which is nothing.”
Man, Tremaine thought, this guy’s wired out of his tree.
He must have gone into the bathroom and stuck his nose in a pile of blow.
“Listen,” Tyler continued. “I’m a busy guy. I’m running a six-hundred-million-dollar ad agency. A six-hundred-million-dollar agency that’s growing. And the ad community knows that. So, like I said, I really don’t have anything more to say about Roger Gale.”
“Could you tell me your relationship to him?”
“Look, I’ve got nothing more to say. I figured this was why you were coming to talk to me. Anyway, I said it all a year ago. Why don’t you go talk to his wife. He used to cheat on her, that’s what I heard.”
“I’m going to talk to his widow. But right now, I’m talking to you.”
“Well, I’m through talking about that.”
“Then let’s talk about other stuff.”
Tremaine looked at Tyler Wilkes, looked right through those red-tinted glasses and said, “Tyler, do you do any investing?”
Tyler now studied Tremaine. He looked caught off guard, worried.
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“Yeah, I invest,” Tyler said. “That’s how you make money.” Tyler paused and said, “Look, what do you want to know about Roger Gale? I guess I can go over it again.”
Tremaine said, “What was your relationship to him?”
“We were business competitors.”
“Would you say you were equals?”
Tyler Wilkes shifted in his chair. “No. Roger Gale was a legend. But, right now, my shop is damn close to outbilling Gale/Parker.”
“Did you build your shop to look like Gale/Parker?”
“No, and no one in this business thinks that.”
“The ADWEEK article I just read indicated that people in the business do think that.”
“That ADWEEK writer wants to be doing what I’m doing. He’s just jealous. No one who matters thinks that.”
Tremaine looked at Tyler, some perspiration forming on his forehead, above the glasses. Tremaine said, “So, what kind of stuff do you invest in? Companies?”
Tyler didn’t answer right away. He looked out his window, maybe at Heather, maybe into space.
“Tyler?” Tremaine said.
“I invest in all kinds of stuff. The market, companies, my own company.”
Then Tremaine said, “Would you say that advertising is a cut-throat business?”
“What are you here to talk to me about?” Tyler said.
“Roger Gale,” Tremaine said.
“Okay. Yeah, I would say advertising is a cut-throat business.”
“Do you think someone in advertising would kill some-88
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one else in advertising over billings, over money? Is it that cut-throat?”
“I don’t know what you’re implying, Tremaine,” Tyler said, a little more self-assured now, back to where he was when Tremaine first walked in.
“I’m asking you a question,” Tremaine said. “Is it that cut-throat?”
“I don’t know,” Tyler said. “I know I would never do that. I don’t need to. Look at my agency. It’s huge. We win accounts just based on our work, nothing