on an assignment. He’ll be along.”
Darzek leaned back, stretched his long legs out under the table, and studied the flickering neon sign in the restaurant window. He was mentally trying to make something out of the words, DENOITIDNOC RIA, when the door jerked open and Ron Walker hurried in. He came back to their booth without breaking his stride, tossed his hat onto a nearby table, and slid in beside Darzek.
“What’s new?” Darzek asked.
Walker shrugged. “Nothing much. ’Tis rumored the mayor will clamp on water restrictions if it doesn’t rain. The weather bureau says this summer of 1986 will be the hottest in forty-eight years. Or maybe it was eighty-four years. Three congressional committees are due in town next week—one of them, incidentally, to investigate Universal Trans again. In Detroit, or maybe it was Chicago, some judge has ruled that a husband’s failure to equip his home with an air conditioner does not constitute proper grounds for divorce. Looks like it’s going to be a dull summer.”
“Obviously that was the wrong question to ask a reporter,” Arnold said. “He smells smoky.”
“Warehouse fire,” Walker said. “Empty warehouse. Dull. Even the firemen were bored. Where’s the waitress? I’m hungry.”
Arnold picked up his empty coffee cup and hurled it at the kitchen door. It shattered noisily, and the waitress made a panicky entrance a moment later.
“Put it on the bill,” Arnold said.
They waited silently while she brought more coffee and fixed a plate of cold sandwiches for Walker.
“You were right about the cook,” Arnold said to Darzek, when she had hurried back to the kitchen. “She was mussed.”
Walker waved a sandwich. “Darzek is always right. Time probably hangs heavy on the girl’s hands. Look—we haven’t had an official meeting since—when was it? Couple of years, anyway. Universal Trans stock has been so low we’ve been practically bankrupt for that long. How would you like to recoup and make a fair profit?”
“How much profit?” Darzek asked.
“I can get thirteen thousand for our six hundred shares. That’s a thousand more than we paid. I don’t know what this idiot expects to do with the stock, but I thought you two should know about the offer.”
“Syndicate of realtors?” Darzek asked.
“Why, yes. He said—” Walker turned slowly, and stared at Darzek. “How did you know?”
“I own a hundred shares of Universal Trans myself. They approached me a month ago.”
“Evidently they have money to throw away.”
“They’re not throwing it away,” Arnold said. “The stock will be worth double what we paid for it ten minutes after Universal Trans opens for business on Monday.”
Walker leaped to his feet, upsetting his coffee cup. “Is that official?” he demanded.
“Official and confidential,” Arnold told him. “Sit down and start mopping.”
Walker went to work on the spilled coffee with a handful of paper napkins. “Fine bunch of friends I have,” he grumbled. “Last month Darzek sat on a jewel robbery for a week, and not a whisper did I get.”
“I gave you a three-hour start when I cracked the case,” Darzek said. “And I’ll give you odds your editor wouldn’t use this story. How many grand openings does this make for Universal Trans? Six?”
“Seven,” Arnold said. “We probably won’t even get snide editorial remarks on this one. The official news release goes out at noon tomorrow, and we expect a lot of papers to ignore it.”
“Or bury it,” Walker said. “Page thirty-two, foot of the obituary column. ‘The Universal Transmitting Company announced today that it would open for business on Monday.’ Period. Taking any full-page ads this time?”
“No. We figure people would ignore them, so we’re going to save the money. That’s what the Boss said, but personally I think he doesn’t have the money to save. Anyway, we’ll get all the publicity we need once we start moving passengers, and it’ll be free.”
Walker nodded. “I’ll get myself assigned to cover the opening. I doubt that anyone else will want it. Everyone in favor of hanging onto the stock? Right. Meeting is adjourned. And Ted, you darned well better be right.”
“I’ll be right—barring accidents. And Monday you’ll be darned glad we dumped that airlines stock.”
“I want some more coffee,” Walker said.
Arnold summoned the waitress with a shout, and they sat silently while she refilled their cups.
“There’s just one thing that bothers me,” Darzek said, when she had returned to the kitchen. “Why was someone trying to buy my stock long before anyone at Universal Trans knew about this opening?”
“Speculators,” Walker said. “Or maybe they have a syndicate of realtors. I’ve heard of stranger things.”
Arnold shook his head. “More likely someone wants to get control of the company and kill it. Put it permanently out of business. The airlines interests, or the railroad and trucking interests, or—sure. Real estate. Why not? Can you guess what Universal Trans is going to do to real estate values? When we get operating properly a man will be able to live in California and commute to Wall Street by transmitter easier than he can commute now from Central Park West. The cost will be comparable with what the average commuter pays today for a train ticket. You should hear the Boss on that subject. He claims that Universal Trans is going to revolutionize our way of life more than the automobile did, and—”
He broke off and stared at Walker. “Did you say warehouse fire?”
“Over on the west side,” Walker said.
Arnold got to his feet slowly. He walked slowly to the pay telephone, and when he had made his call he sat down on the nearest chair and gazed thoughtfully at a blank wall.
“I don’t like this,” he announced finally. “That was my warehouse. We were using it for some tests.”
“Will this affect your grand opening?” Darzek asked.
Arnold shook his head. “We didn’t have much there, and we moved it out this afternoon.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Write it off. It was insured, wasn’t it?”
“I suppose so. We were just renting it.”
“Forget it.”
“I don’t like it. We’ve had so many things happen—”
“Probably a coincidence,” Darzek said.
“You’re wrong there,” Walker said. “The fire marshal has it down as arson.”
CHAPTER 3
Only one New York paper gave the
