might know something about computers.’
‘No,’ Budge grinned, ‘but we know everything about backing inventors, don’t we fellas?’
There was a burst of laughter.
Two days later at the club, Jeff passed by the usual table and explained to Budge, ‘I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you fellows today. I’m having a guest for lunch.’
When Jeff moved to another table, Alan Thompson grinned, ‘He’s probably having lunch with the bearded lady from the circus.’
A stooped, grey-haired man entered the dining room and was ushered to Jeff’s table.
‘Jesus!’ Mike Quincy said. ‘Isn’t that Professor Ackerman?’
‘Who’s Professor Ackerman?’
‘Don’t you ever read anything but financial reports, Budge? Vernon Ackerman was on the cover of Time last month. He’s chairman of the President’s National Scientific Board. He’s the most brilliant scientist in our country.’
‘What the hell is he doing with my dear brother-in-law?’
Jeff and the professor were engrossed in a deep conversation all during lunch, and Budge and his friends grew more and more curious. When the professor left, Budge motioned Jeff over to his table.
‘Hey, Jeff. Who was that?’
Jeff looked guilty. ‘Oh … you mean Vernon?’
‘Yeah. What were you two talking about?’
‘We … ah …’ The others could almost watch Jeff’s thought processes as he tried to dodge the question. ‘I … ah … might write a book about him. He’s a very interesting character.’
‘I didn’t know you were a writer.’
‘Well, I guess we all have to start sometime.’
Three days later Jeff had another luncheon guest. This time it was Budge who recognized him. ‘Hey! That’s Seymour Jarrett, chairman of the board of Jarrett International Computer. What the hell would he be doing with Jeff?’
Again, Jeff and his guest held a long, animated conversation. When the luncheon was over, Budge sought Jeff out.
‘Jeffrey, boy, what’s with you and Seymour Jarrett?’
‘Nothing,’ Jeff said quickly. ‘Just having a chat.’ He started to walk away. Budge stopped him.
‘Not so fast, old buddy. Seymour Jarrett is a very busy fellow. He doesn’t sit around having long chats about nothing.’
Jeff said earnestly, ‘All right. The truth is, Budge, that Seymour collects stamps, and I told him about a stamp I might be able to acquire for him.’
The truth, my ass, Budge thought.
The following week, Jeff lunched at the Club with Charles Bartlett, the president of Bartlett & Bartlett, one of the largest private capital venture groups in the world. Budge, Ed Zeller, Alan Thompson, and Mike Quincy watched in fascination as the two men talked, their heads close together.
‘Your brother-in-law is sure in high-flying company lately,’ Zeller commented. ‘What kind of deal has he got cooking, Budge?’
Budge said testily, ‘I don’t know, but I’m sure in hell going to find out. If Jarrett and Bartlett are interested, there must be a pot of money involved.’
They watched as Bartlett rose, enthusiastically pumped Jeff’s hand, and left. As Jeff passed their table, Budge caught his arm. ‘Sit down, Jeff. We want to have a little talk with you.’
‘I should get back to the office,’ Jeff protested. ‘I –’
‘You work for me, remember? Sit down.’ Jeff sat. ‘Who were you having lunch with?’
Jeff hesitated. ‘No one special. An old friend.’
‘Charlie Bartlett’s an old friend?’
‘Kind of.’
‘What were you and your old friend Charlie discussing, Jeff?’
‘Uh … cars, mostly. Old Charlie likes antique cars, and I heard about this ’37 Packard, four-door convertible –’
‘Cut the horseshit!’ Budge snapped. ‘You’re not collecting stamps or selling cars, or writing any fucking book. What are you really up to?’
‘Nothing. I –’
‘You’re raising money for something, aren’t you, Jeff?’ Ed Zeller asked.
‘No!’ But he said it a shade too quickly.
Budge put a beefy arm around Jeff. ‘Hey, buddy, this is your brother-in-law. We’re family, remember?’ He gave Jeff a bear hug. ‘It’s something about that tamperproof computer you mentioned last week, right?’
They could see by Jeff’s face that they had trapped him.
‘Well, yes.’
It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of the son of a bitch. ‘Why didn’t you tell us Professor Ackerman was involved?’
‘I didn’t think you’d be interested.’
‘You were wrong. When you need capital, you go to your friends.’
‘The professor and I don’t need capital,’ Jeff said. ‘Jarrett and Bartlett –’
‘Jarrett and Bartlett are fuckin’ sharks! They’ll eat you alive,’ Alan Thompson exclaimed.
Ed Zeller picked it up. ‘Jeff, when you deal with friends, you don’t get hurt.’
‘Everything is already arranged,’ Jeff told them. ‘Charlie Bartlett –’
‘Have you signed anything yet?’
‘No, but I gave my word –’
‘Then nothing’s arranged. Hell, Jeff boy, in business people change their minds every hour.’
‘I shouldn’t even be discussing this with you,’ Jeff protested. ‘Professor Ackerman’s name can’t be mentioned. He’s under contract to a government agency.’
‘We know that,’ Thompson said soothingly. ‘Does the professor think this thing will work?’
‘Oh, he knows it works.’
‘If it’s good enough for Ackerman, it’s good enough for us, right fellows?’
There was a chorus of assent.
‘Hey, I’m not a scientist,’ Jeff said. ‘I can’t guarantee anything. For all I know, this thing may have
