Daily News from New York, New York • 155

DAILYNEWS, MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1977 the Computer Famous Is. Better Its in many people are on the list and how they get there. "It's up to our business office managers (there are dozens) who gets on," says a company spokesman. "It's persons who are known to us either through general information or by having had contact with our business offices." Neither utility would release its list, and both said most of those listed probably don't realize they're "special coded." You can't tell from the bill itself." Both utilities also stress that no one no matter how important gets by without paying his bill and no one gets special credit terms. The-Jub-lic Service Commission wouldn't allow it, they say.

"Merely the fact that they make these calls doesn't seem to be any undue preference," said a PSC spokesman long as they're telling them to pay up and not extending any undue' credit, it's okay." don't take any improper action with those bills," says a Con Ed spokesman. "It's courtesy to customers we know; they get a little more than usual treament," says a New York Telephone spokesman. "It's part of our day-to-day-doing business." Both utilities have lots of special codes plugged into their computers. New customers, bills over $500, residence changes, unusually high or low meter readings all are tagged by the billing machine for special attention. But there is also a special coding for Very Important Persons which apparently also includes Very Troublesome Persons.

Con Edison says it has a special coding list of about 500 customers. "Mostly it's prominent public figures, sports figures and some media figures," said a company spokesman, "but we also include some accounts we've had trouble with in the past." New York Telephone is a bit vague about how By STEVE LAWRENCE Tired of insulting, impersonal computer notices bugging you to pay your telephone or electric bill? Sick of the you pet if Consolidated Edison or New York Telephone fouls up your bill Too bad you're not famous. If you were famous you would probably get a polite phone call from some company functionary instead of a blunt, computerized threat. If you were famous, every month the computer would spit out your bill and a real live person would review it for accuracy. Con Ed and the phone company deny this is preferential treatment." They call it "special coding." in honor of the computer that makes it possible.

They also call it good business. "It saves us embarrassment and assures that we he Draws r'J tMfl The Interest At Citicorp By MARTIN GOTTLIEB Mario Carnpo. a refrigeration engineer at New York's biggest new sky scrapper, Citicorp Center, could not help bui notice the striking brunette inside the elevator that opened on the building's 15th floor. "You're looking pretty today," he told her, walking on. "Trying to find a millionaire?" As the woman chuckled, Campo considered his height 5-feet-3'i and offered, "How about a jockey?" It is hard to guess how many other males, short and tall, have volunteered for Vivian Longo's consideration, but the number must be legion.

Aside from being 25 and beautiful, Miss Longo owns a master's degree from Fordham, a serious talent for poetry, sculpture and the piano and the guar, and a disposition that could bring calru to a rush hour subway car. She also runs the Citicorp Center building, all 914 feet of it. As manager of the building at 53d St. and Lexington she commands a staff of 100, including the chief engineers, who report directly to her, and the engineering, maintenance and cleaning crtws. don't think it's unusual at all," she said the other day as she moved around the building in white hard hat and walkie-talkie and beeper at her side.

"As I told a contractor don't you leave your wife home? When the News Photos bv Jim Huqhes Vivian Longo points out feature of construction to colleague as work goes on at Citicorp skyscraper at 53d St. and Lexington Ave. yesterday. At right, she goes over plans for the work in progress. Minor -j "mm iij boiler breaks down she's the one who deals with the contractor.

When keys have to be made, she deals with the locksmith. Well, it's the same here, only on a slightly larger scale." Citicorp Center has 59 floors, 1.3 million square feet of office space and a 400-ton concrete block floating on a bed of oil that corrects the sway of the building in strong winds. It has 1,500 workers now and expects 6,000 when fully tenanted later this year. Born at Sixth Ave. and Union St.

in South Brooklyn, she grew up on Beverly Road in Flatbush, where her family still lives. Her father, Salvatore, is the owner of the Italian Alps Restaurant in the Wall Street area. She joined Citibank in April 1976, and last December was appointed manager or "boss lady," as she is called of the new building, with her superiors crediting her remarkable poise as her greatest asset. Inside her white hard hat, is a nametag that one of her workers typed out for her. It reads Wonder Woman.

The Trial Ends for Tvo Caught in a Kafk il Sfflum mare PETE HAIV2ILL K. moved quickly down the gray concrete-block corridor yesterday, heading for the brightly lit room, where he would again face his interrogators. He passed the room where C. was being prepared, having his face painted and dusted. A group of acolytes stood outside.

K. shook the hand of one of his tormentors, smiled thinly, and moved on. The place was very cold. i "A good night's sleep helps," K. sid.

A few earlier, during one' of tfie interminable K. had at his interrogators and at C. IEs principal adversary, had done the same. Both men seemed embarrassed. They are not ordinarily men who snap.

But now the long trial was coming to an end. It was the last day, to be precise. In the morning, the jury would men, so K. and C. would have to work mighty potions.

All weapons were available to them: frontal attack, subterfuge, lies. But both K. and C. had come to understand that frontal attack would be repulsed, subterfuge dissolved, lies found out. They also knew that no matter how hard they had worked to obtain the big job in The Castle, they would awake each morning for a long time to the presence of a stranger in the looking glass.

A Lust for the Job The questions started. K. used his most reasonable tone, but twitched andi shifted, in his seat, nis high climbing a shelf of brow furrowed by wrinkles. He; expressed alarm, condescension, sinceri-S ty, intelligence. More than anything else, though.

K. expressed lust. He lusted for the job. He would do anything to get it. And so testimony in the large bright room on W.

57th this barren studio that belongs to CBS, was played out against a background of uneasy reality. K. had reached the ramparts of The Castle by preaching against the men who ruled within its walls. He would be a force for change, said K. He would make certain that the footmen would do their jobs better.

He would make certain that the bowmen on The Castle walls would no longer get two days off when they gave a blood. He would take back from the stable boys wnat the profligate rulers of The Castle had given away, during the years of Prince Lindsay and Baron Beame. But: when he finally reached the moat, K. needed help for the final assault. And so he had first to satisfy the inquisitors, the scribes and the penmen.

(Continued on page 32, col. J) begin its deliberations. Both K. and C. hoped the verdict would be benign.

Now they sat facing their interrogators. Behind them was a fence with irregular staves sealing them off from other parts of the' cold airless room: Some said that the fence, was. shaped like the city of New York, but it could not be proved. eyes drifted around the room. C.

Studied his notes. Their answers would determine which one would get the big job of running The Castle. There was only one job, and two.