He didn't say anything at first, just gave me that sullen, hopeless look he'd been pulling lately, and stripped out of his coat, shirt, and undershirt. Those carbon arcs really heat up the booth. I went on pawing, though, and finally he asked me what I was looking for.
"I'm looking for the spare photoelectric cells for our sound heads," I said. "It doesn't look like we have any."
"We've got 'em," he grunted.
"Well, I don't believe we have, Jimmie," I said. "I thought I'd make a check on our parts last night when you were on your relief, and I couldn't find them then. And I've taken everything out this morning, and-"
"They got to be there," he said. "Let me look." He began sorting through the stuff impatiently, half sore. He wound up by picking up each part separately and putting it back in the cabinet. His face had fallen about a foot.
"I-I just can't believe it, Mr. Wilmpt. We had some spares up there, well, I know it couldn't have been more than two or three days ago."
"You haven't used any since?"
"Of course I ain't! If I had I'd have told you so you could reorder."
"Hmmm," I said. "Did you actually see the cells or just the little carton they come in?"
''Well-''
"That's it," I said. "At one time or another we've replaced the cells in the machines and put the empty cartons back in the cabinet. I'm not saying you did it. I may have myself."
"But what became of the cartons?"
"They must have dropped down and got swept out. No one would pay any attention to them as long as they were empty."
"Yeah, but-"
"I'm not blaming you, Jimmie. The thing is to get some more. We don't want to be playing silent over Sunday."
"No," he nodded, "that would be bad. You'll bring some cells back when you go into the city?"
"I wasn't planning on going into the city," I said, "but I'll have to now. It's too late for the express to reach us, and the stores will be closed tomorrow."
"Yeah-I see." He rubbed his chin, giving me a puzzled, funny look. "When'll you be back?"
"Just as soon as I get the cells. Probably early tomorrow morning."
"You-you won't have to stay over for anything else?"
"Why should I?"
"Nothin'," he mumbled, turning around to the projectors. "I was just wondering."
A hundred miles up the road I stopped at a restaurant for a bite to eat, and called Carol from a booth phone. She must have been waiting right by the phone because she answered right away.
"I'm coming in," I said. "Will I get to see you?" She said, "No. I'm leaving right away." That was right. It was what she was supposed to say.
"Get your baggage taken care of?"
"Not all of it," she said. "I'll send for the rest later."
That was right, too.
"Did you get in touch with that party you spoke about?"
"Yes. And she's going to be very helpful."
"Well, have a good trip," I said. "And be careful."
"I will be. You be careful," she said.
We said good-by and hung up.
13
The car was running pretty hot by the time I got to the city, and I had good reason to take it to a garage. I told them I wanted the radiator back-flushed, a grease job, and an oil change. They were rushed, since it was Saturday, and they wouldn't promise to get the work done before nine that night. I groused a little about it, but I left the car.
Of course, if I'd started back home right away I couldn't have got there ahead of Carol. But I didn't want to be on the road when things popped. I wanted to be able to prove where I was.
I bought two photoelectric cells at the theatrical equipment house, and dropped them into the first trash can I passed. It was just like throwing twelve bucks away, but it couldn't be helped. I'd left the two I'd lifted from the show in the car, and there was no way I could explain the extras. And, anyway, what was twelve bucks?
I could prove that I'd had to come into the city, and that I'd actually bought the cells. Twelve dollars was pretty cheap for that.
I ate dinner at a restaurant on film row, and walked around awhile, restless, not knowing what to do with myself. All the exchanges except Hap Chance's had been closed since noon, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to kill any time with him. On the other hand, a sharpie like that might be just the kind to use for an alibi.
I stopped across the street from his place, trying to decide whether to drop in on him, and he looked out and saw me. He got up, dimmed the lights and drew the shades. I was thinking, What the hell? when he opened the door and motioned.
I crossed the street. "What's up, Hap?" I said.
"Pop in, laddie," he said, "I'll tell you in a sec."
He closed the door and locked it, and we went back to his desk. He brought out the whisky and a couple of glasses, and we both had a drink. He poured a second for himself.
"Well, Hap?" I said.
"I've got some information for you, old man. I wouldn't care to have anyone know it came from me."
"All right," I said. "Under the hat."
"You recall our conversation of a few days ago?"
"Yes."
"What did you make of it?"
"Why," I said, "I hadn't thought much about it. I supposed, maybe, you had a buyer for a house and you thought you might make a deal for mine."
"Nothing else?"
"No."
He frowned slightly, shaking his head. "I suppose not. I didn't give you a great deal to go on. Still, there at the last, when you forgot to buy paper on 'Jep-'"
"I don't claim a perfect memory. What's on your mind, Hap?"
"You're broke, laddie."
"What?" I said.
"I say you're stony. I'd have told you the other night, but I wasn't too sure about my facts. At any rate, I don't know that there's anything you could have done about it."
"You haven't told me anything yet," I said. "What do you mean I'm broke?"
"Sol Panzer's moving in on you."
I laughed. "Nuts, Hap."
"All right, laddie."
"The town's too small for Panz palace. It isn't a fourth big enough."
"It's big enough," said Hap. "It's big enough if So! says it is. Think it over. In ten years you've built a fine house with a fine business out of nothing. Sol can point to that if he needs to justify himself, which he won't. Panzer owns control of Panz palace. He's always made money for the stockholders. Now-"
"I don't give a damn about that," I said. "Panz palace doesn't build anything less than a million-dollar house, and a million-dollar house just won't pay off there."
"You mean you can't sell enough admissions?"
"Certainly that's what I mean. How else could you make it pay?"
"Oh, laddie"-Hap made a clicking noise with his tongue-"what hour yesterday were you born? You can make it pay by cutting your overhead, rather, by shifting the costs. You can't do it because you don't have any place to shift them to. But Sol has ninety-three other houses. He can make a house earn just as much or just as little as he wants it to."
"Yeah, but-but why does he want to do it?"
"I dropped you a hint about that the other night. I asked you if there was a chance that your house would be worth a million- meaning, of course, would anyone be jailed for paying you that much for it. I thought we might peddle it to him."
"Did you try?"
"No use. Merely wishful thinking on my part. There's a lot of loose change when you start breaking up a million dollars, but you have to break it to get it. Sol has to build. I saw that as soon as I'd taken time to study the matter."
I began to tremble inside. I mopped my face.
"You're not lying to me, Hap?"
"Really, old man-But I can't blame you for being disturbed. If you're looking for confirmation, drop around to the exchanges and try to buy for next season. I think you'll find that they'll stall you."