Supply and Demand Pt. 01

Jennifer Carrington ran a nervous hand through her blonde hair, trying not to ruin the simple ponytail in which she had it pulled back. She looked up again at the building in front of her, the light of the sun reflecting off its gleaming glass and steel exterior, her eyes narrowing in the glare even with the protective shade of her hand. The tower looked to her as if it was forcing its way through the crowd of neighbouring office blocks, pushing them aside, announcing itself as a home of corporate success. It radiated confidence and arrogance almost as much as it reflected the heat of the summer sun.

The same sun that was causing a small trickle of sweat to run down Jennifer's back, even in the simple cotton dress she wore. Terrific, she thought, just what I need, to look completely frazzled. She still wasn't sure that being here was a good idea. But if she was going to do this she wanted to look decent. It wasn't going to be easy and she didn't want to give Danton any clues about how nervous she felt. He had enough legitimate businesses to justify offices in the corporate monument in front of her. Jennifer wondered if its owners knew about his less savoury enterprises. Probably she thought, even though they and Danton would deny it. The man hid behind his public companies. Jennifer knew it was sham, but her group hadn't been able to prove anything, not yet. After today that might all change.

To say that she was surprised when the invitation to a meeting came was putting it mildly. As the convenor of WFP - Women Fighting Prostitution - she hardly expected the owner of the largest number of brothels in the state to be asking her to a meeting. The only time she'd ever seen Eugene Danton was over a protest line at some of his more legitimate businesses. WFP picketed outside the brothels as well, but she'd never seen Danton there. "As if he'd sully himself like that," Jennifer muttered to herself.

But here she was, for a one-on-one meeting with the enemy himself. It was supposed to be just the two of them. Jennifer had wanted to bring someone, maybe a lawyer, but Danton had insisted that the meeting be on his terms. She'd thought about turning him down. Betty and Sally, her deputies, had both told her that they thought she shouldn't go. Betty, 25 years older than Jennifer's 22, had been especially insistent. But Jennifer had over-ruled her. Jennifer might be younger, but she was the leader. Betty had held the position, but happily stood aside for the younger woman's drive and enthusiasm, her ability to inspire others. Danton's invitation had said he wanted to negotiate. Jennifer wasn't going to give an inch, but she hoped that she might be able to glean some useful information from whatever Danton had to say. And if there was a possibility that he actually intended giving in, then she had to take it.

Nervously she checked her purse, the third time she'd done that while standing outside the building, reassuring herself that her mobile phone was there. Danton had to say something incriminating in the meeting. Given what he had asked to discuss he could hardly do anything but. Jennifer was going use her mobile phone to record the meeting. Well, at least try to, she suspected that Danton might realise the possibility and take steps to prevent it. She had to at least try, damning him with his own words would be poetic justice as far Jennifer was concerned.

Even if all that came out of this meeting was some opening, some opportunity, to advance their cause, now was the time to seize that chance. Jennifer had just graduated from university. She had a little time to decide between the jobs offers she'd received. But she couldn't wait for ever. There were two offers already on the table based on her internships and more interviews lined up. She needed to start getting the work experience that entry to an MBA required, she was already in contact with good business schools. Sure, she wasn't going to abandon the WFP cause. Jennifer genuinely believed in it. But in a little while she wouldn't have as much time on her hands as she did now, probably would have to pass the leadership back to Betty. So if today presented a chance to make some real gains, well, she wasn't about to pass that up.

Shaking her head Jennifer decided that she had better enter the building before she ended up a stinking, sweaty, mess. Inside the cool air was almost freezing, she couldn't begin to imagine how much it cost to keep the cavernous foyer cool. The sweat was now cold against her body, tiny goosebumps spreading over her flesh. Her one-inch heels made an echoing, tapping, sound as she crossed the tiled floor heading for the elevators. The muzak in the lift was typical generic rubbish, obviously the soundtrack hadn't had as much money lavished on it as the rest of the building. It might have been meant to soothe the passengers, but all it did was irritate Jennifer. It didn't matter what Danton had to say. Jennifer wasn't going to be letting up on her, or her group's, opposition to what she saw as a blight on the community.

The lift deposited her in a sleek, soulless, corridor. The walls were faintly reflective, the light diffused by their grey sheen. Together with the carpet that deadened her footfalls Jennifer felt that she had entered a shadow of the world outside. She hurried in the direction that the signs said led to Danton's office. Reaching it, she knocked, then cautiously opened the door when there was no answer. Peering inside she saw that the room held a desk. One where there should have been a receptionist, or an administrative assistant, but was currently unoccupied. It looked like Danton was keeping his word about the meeting being just for the two of them. Jennifer looked further on and through an interior door could see Danton himself, thumb dancing over the screen of a mobile phone as he sat at another desk, the quality of its expensive wood finish obvious even from where Jennifer stood. Perhaps that was the intention. She couldn't see anyone else as Danton looked up from the device.

"Good afternoon Miss Carrington," Danton called to her, his voice a dark rumbling bass. "I'm glad that you could make it." Entering Danton's office Jennifer grudgingly admitted to herself that it was well-appointed, the sleek, modern aspects of its furnishing, the glass and metal shelves and a low slung table, a surprisingly good match for the polished wooden desk and leather chairs. It didn't impress her though, she knew where some of the money that had paid for it came from.

As Jennifer hesitated just inside in the doorway Danton added, "Shut the door if you please, we both want to keep this private don't we?" Jennifer hesitated a moment. Did she want to be alone in a room with this man? Angrily she gave her head a slight shake. She had nothing to be afraid of. Her friends and colleagues knew where she was. And what could he do anyway?

Turning from shutting the door Jennifer saw that Danton had risen from his seat. He was walking towards her, hand outstretched. She had to admit that he was well dressed, his suit designer-made, maybe Hugo Boss. He wore it well, the clothes defining has tall, fit, frame and broad shoulders. The colours matched his dark, greying, hair and Mediterranean complexion. But then Jennifer reminded herself what businesses he used to support his image. She kept her hands to herself, one by her side, the other holding the purse strap where it was slung over her shoulder.

Danton hesitated for a moment then shrugged. "Please, take a seat." He indicated the low, comfortable chairs in the middle of the office. The upholstery was white, probably leather, although just maybe it was fake, Jennifer thought derisively, before grudgingly admitting to herself that it looked expensive either way and Danton was unlikely to settle for second best.

Jennifer took the opportunity to step away from Danton and examine the office. She hoped that it might give her some understanding of its owner, perhaps some advantage in dealing with him. The furnishings themselves were expensive, understated. She could see a drinks cabinet, its wood finish matching that of the desk, perhaps Danton had a weakness for alcohol, or maybe he tried to ply his guests with drinks, dull their wits. The walls of the office held nothing but some generic corporate artwork, none of the awards or prizes or qualifications another successful man might display. But then, Jennifer thought, Danton was scarcely the sort to qualify for an award. Even the shelves of the room were sparsely occupied, just the odd, expensive looking, ornament. Danton obviously wasn't much for display or baggage, but what he did have was obviously valuable. She could detect more than a hint of pride, hubris even, in the lavishly stark office.

One thing she did notice was the lack of formal chairs beside the one behind the desk. There were the expensive lounge chairs on either side of the low table, but that was it. Jennifer chose the chair furthest from where Danton stood, her back now to his desk, hoping that he wouldn't sit too close to her. Instead of sitting he asked "Would you like something to drink?" Jennifer smiled, her supposition about Danton using alcohol to his advantage at least possibly correct.

"No thank you." Danton probably wasn't stupid enough to try anything, but Jennifer didn't want to give him the chance. The man owned brothels, so slipping something into her drink to get her to agree to things she shouldn't was probably well within his capabilities. She needed to keep her wits about her, not fuddle them with alcohol.

"Suit yourself," Danton replied as he poured himself a drink. Jennifer could tell that it was alcoholic. Was it expensive? She suspected that it was. Taking advantage of Danton's turned back, Jennifer reached into her purse, lying on the low table where she'd put it as she sat down, and nervously started the recording app on her phone. She yanked her hand out of her purse as Danton turned back to face her.

To Jennifer's relief Danton seemed unperturbed as he took a seat opposite her, across the low table. Above him, sharing the wall with the door through which she had entered his inner office, was a large mirror. In the chair Danton sat low enough that Jennifer had a clear view of the mirror's surface, although she had to raise her head, look up, to see it properly. Jennifer could see herself and the back of Danton's head in the reflection. But the man himself was out of her direct view if she looked at the mirror. He was there, at the bottom of her vision, but she couldn't focus on him. Maybe that was the point. Look at the mirror or look at the person opposite. Danton probably usually sat in the chair she was in if not his desk and didn't want to be distracted by the mirror when he spoke to someone. But why have it at all then?

"You're probably wondering why I brought you all here today," Danton smiled. "Sorry, couldn't resist the joke. But you're not laughing. Pity." He tilted his head and looked at Jennifer, his eyes dark under greying hair.

"So, serious then." Danton sighed, and sat back in his chair, nursing his glass, "First of all I want to say I admire your dedication."

"W-what?" Jennifer let slip before she could stop herself. She hadn't expected compliments. Whatever Danton's intent they only made her more suspicious.

"Oh yes. You put a lot of effort into your cause. All in your own time, no recompense. Admirable dedication, if misguided." A slight smile curved his lips, like a parent with an over-eager child.

Jennifer made herself take a long breath before replying. She could so easily have snapped back but instead she forced herself to stay calm. She didn't need the condescension of this poor excuse for a human being. "I don't think it's misguided. Your, ..., establishments are a blight on the community, even if the police ignore them. It's well worth it for us to be rid of them." With some difficulty she kept her tone even, struggling to restrain the anger she felt at Danton's 'businesses'.

"Ah, but that's just it isn't it?" His right hand still held his glass, but the ring finger pointed in Jennifer's direction. "You haven't made me close down a single one. As I said, admirable dedication, but not terribly productive." He took another sip from his glass then smiled at her over the top of it.

Jennifer shot Danton a glare. "We knew this wasn't going to be easy, that it would take time. We'll get you in the end."

She could see the light of humour twinkling in Danton's eyes "Really? Will you? And if you do, what then? I'm not the only one in this business you know. You're entitled to your opinions but..."

Jennifer took the chance offered by the slight pause. "Oh, how gracious of you," she said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. Danton's patronising manner was beginning to infuriate her. Firmly she reminded herself to stay calm. She smoothed her dress over her thighs. She didn't want to hand him any advantage.

Danton blinked, seemingly genuinely surprised by her rancour. "As you wish. But if you are going to be successful in opposing my business I think you need to understand it a little better."

Jennifer allowed more of her anger to seep into her voice. "Oh, I understand it well enough. You degrade women, cater to men's basest instincts. I know all I need to know about your business."

Danton leant back, a frown creasing his features. He gave his head a slight shake. "But do you really understand what it means that it is a business?"

Jennifer frowned in return. She couldn't understand what the man was on about "I'm sorry, what?"

Danton gave a half smile and placed his glass on the table that separated them. "No, I should apologise. I've let this conversation grow too heated." Jennifer tried to interrupt but Danton held up a hand. "No, please, let me explain. I do admire your dedication and tenacity. And it is a free country. So if you are going to follow the course that you think is right then I should at least help you do it without any misconceptions. You see, prostitution," Jennifer shivered at the word, "is, whatever else you may think of it, a business."

Jennifer felt her frown deepening. She couldn't work out what Danton was trying to get out of all this. Why would he be offering to help her? Something told her that she needed to be careful. "So?" she asked, caution tinging her voice.

"So," Danton echoed, his hands spread towards her, palms up, "like any business it works on the rules of supply and demand. What you're trying to do is cut the supply. But every time someone tries that, be it alcohol with prohibition, or the more recent war on drugs, it doesn't work. Shut down one avenue of supply and another will take up the slack. As long as the demand persists, that is."

Jennifer narrowed her eyes. She wasn't about to let some business for eight year olds speech fool her. "So? Even if it doesn't work it puts the prices up. And we have a moral obligation to oppose your dirty trade," she sniffed.

Danton shook his head, "You have to be very careful when you mix morals and business."

"I'll leave that to you and your tax accountant," Jennifer shot back.

"Now you're talking ethics." The hint of condescension in Danton's voice grated across Jennifer's nerves. "But we're not here to argue semantics. Or at least I hope we're not."

"Well, you'll have to tell me." Jennifer glared at him, her voice tight, "you asked for this meeting."

"All right then," Danton smiled, "As I said, you shut down one avenue of supply another will spring up. You'd be better looking at the demand."

That didn't make any sense to Jennifer. Yes, she knew about the basics of an economy. She was educated. But even if she accepted what Danton was saying, how did that help? Sure, she knew that there was demand for prostitutes. But that was never going away.

"Some men will always want that," she said out loud.

Danton appeared to have followed her reasoning. "Yes, but is the demand for prostitutes or just for sex?"

Jennifer shivered at his coarseness, then stopped herself. She wasn't going to let herself be defeated by Danton's language, even if she would never be so vulgar. "Well," she started, then paused. She wanted to get this right, "Most men are too sensible to go anywhere near your dirty trade."

Danton leant back in his chair. He stared into his glass, a thoughtful look on his face. "And the ones that do? Why do they need the services my girls offer?"

Jennifer frowned at the demeaning reference to the women that worked for him. Adding to her disappointment was Danton's lack of reaction to her description of his business. She'd been hoping to unbalance him. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too easy. She knew the sort of men that used Danton's 'services'. "Single, I suppose. Not able to manage a relationship. Or cheating on their wives or girlfriends. Not valuing what they've got."

Danton made an amused sound. "Let's leave aside the gratuitous insults of my clients. And just say they come to my establishments for what they can't get elsewhere."

"Well, I suppose." Jennifer begrudged having to agree with Danton, but she had to admit that he was correct. She looked up at her image in the mirror behind him. Was there a faint sparkle there? She hadn't noticed it before, where was it coming from?

"Really? Come on Miss Carrington, I thought you were an intelligent woman." Jennifer squirmed. She should say something. She shouldn't let Danton insult her like that. Why didn't she say something?

"If someone can get something for free then why would they pay for it? Do you agree?"

Danton hadn't moved from his seat across from her, but Jennifer could feel his physical presence. It made her feel small, and not just because of the difference in their physical sizes. She looked up into the mirror again, hoping to relieve the pressure that she felt. Her image seemed to flicker, the sparkle still present.

She swallowed, "Yes." She had to agree. Why pay for something if you can get it for free?

"So," Danton continued, not letting her add anything else, "if the men who come to my, 'establishments'," his smile was predatory now. Jennifer didn't know when she had stopped looking at her image and her eyes had returned to Danton, "could get sex for free, then they wouldn't need my girls and I'd be out of business."

Jennifer relaxed. She liked that thought. Danton out of business. That was her aim, the aim of WFP. Well, Danton and all the others like him. But Danton would be a good start.

"I can see you agree with me." Why was she letting him do all the talking? Jennifer couldn't understand that. Uneasy, she shifted in the chair, feeling the leather where it touched her bare legs. Still, she agreed with what he was saying, so why bother adding anything?

"I fill a need. It makes sense that it could be filled in other ways." Jennifer simply nodded. She stole a glance at her image in the mirror. It was nodding as well.

"But how do you find the people with that need? What, do you think, Jennifer?" Danton paused, leant back.

Jennifer swallowed. Obviously he wanted her to say something. He wanted an answer from her. But what answer could she give? How do you find the men who wanted the services of a brothel, of prostitutes?

"I, well, ..." She trailed off, hopelessly. She didn't have any answer. She felt small again. She knew that there must be an answer. She looked at her reflection, her eyes not leaving it this time. The sparkle was still there, she couldn't work out exactly where, or what was causing it, but it was there. Her image gave her no help finding the answer she wanted to give Danton.

"Really, Jennifer? I'd have thought the answer obvious." Feelings of insignificance were creeping through Jennifer. If the answer was obvious then she should have known it. "They might be anyone. Sons, brothers, husbands, workers, businessmen, anyone. The only place you will know who they are is in a brothel, or cruising past the streetwalkers."