Ben pulled open a desk drawer, pulled out a stapler, and handed it to Eric.
Eric took the stapler and started for the door. “Thanks for all your help.”
Rick glanced at his watch as he strolled through the lobby of the Washington Hilton. Stepping into the elevator, he readjusted his tie and rested his hands in the pockets of his brown tweed suit. When he reached the tenth floor, he was exactly fifteen minutes late. As he wandered through the corridors, he caught sight of his visitor, waiting outside room 1027.
“You’re late.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure none of your friends were lying in wait for me,” Rick explained as he opened the door to the room. “I’m a very popular guy, you know.” Walking inside, he waited for his visitor to follow. When they were both in the room, Rick closed the door. “Stand right there.”
“Wha’?”
“It’s just a precaution,” Rick said as he pulled a thin, black metal detector from his briefcase. Waving the detector across his colleague’s body, he said, “I’m sure you understand.” When he was satisfied that there were no recording devices present, Rick headed to the living room of the suite, where he took a seat on one of the room’s two identical couches and motioned for his guest to be seated as well. Rick got right to the point. “I don’t mean to be short, but do you have the decision?”
“I have it. Do you have the money?”
“Most of it,” Rick said.
“What do you mean, most of it? How much is most?”
“So far, exactly one million is in the account. Naturally, you can call to verify.”
“And what about the other five hundred thousand?”
“I’ll deposit that after our next meeting-as long as you keep me informed about Ben.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Yes, it was,” Rick said matter-of-factly. “When I first approached you, I said that part of the deal was for you to keep Ben at bay. The best way for you to do that is to keep me informed of his whereabouts. Simply stated, when I tell him I don’t need his help, he’s going to be livid. And he’ll make every attempt to figure out how I got the decision without him.”
“So you want me to rat on him for another month?”
“Believe me, it’s no worse than what you’ve done so far.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the moral advice.”
“Do we have a deal?” Rick asked.
“Not yet. First, I want the money within the next two weeks. I’ll tell you what Ben’s up to, but this isn’t going to be an ongoing job. Once the decision is announced, you’re on your own.”
Rick crossed his legs and leaned back on the sofa. “That’s fair.”
“Second, I want you to know that I am not simply the least expensive option. If you went with Ben, you’d not only spend more money to get the decision-you’d also have to worry about his resourcefulness during every meeting. The only reason he continued to deal with you was so he could I.D. you. And it was only a matter of time before he succeeded.”
“Believe me, Ben was never close to succeeding.”
“I doubt that. I saw your mouth drop when I explained about his yearbook plan.”
“Believe what you want,” Rick said. “But you should know that the only reason I went with you is because Ben was becoming too unstable. When it came right down to it, I didn’t think he would hand over the decision.”
“You may be right,” Rick’s visitor said, pulling the Grinnell decision from a paper bag. “Fortunately for you…”
When the thirty-page document hit the glass coffee table, Rick leaned forward and picked up the pile. He flipped through it. “Unbelievable. The Court actually found that the regulation was a taking. I didn’t think Justice Veidt had it in him.” Reaching the last page, he added, “It’s too bad Grinnell doesn’t know he’s sitting on a gold mine. If he did, he wouldn’t be as excited about taking on new partners.”
“That’s great. Now, when would you like to get together next?”
As he put the document in his own briefcase, Rick said, “I’ll be in touch.” Rising from the sofa, he walked to the door and opened it. When they were both in the hallway, Rick said, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take the elevator on the other side of the building.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
As he headed down the hallway, Rick turned around. “By the way, congratulations. You’re now a millionaire.”
Chapter 13
“WASHINGTON NATIONAL AIRPORT EXECUTIVE Center. Can I help you?” the operator asked.
“Yes, I have a silly problem that I was hoping you could help me with,” Ben said in his most ingratiating tone. “I was supposed to attend a meeting this Saturday in one of the airport’s executive meeting rooms, but I lost my daily planner and now I have no idea where the meeting is.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but the airlines are responsible for scheduling space in the meeting rooms. Do you know which airline you were dealing with?”
“I have no idea,” Ben said. “It was all in my planner.”
“What about the company’s name? Maybe I can find that.”
“It’s a start-up company,” Ben explained, hoping to convince the operator that she was his only hope. “They haven’t incorporated yet, so it’s all under the CEO’s name-which I can’t remember for the life of me. And since I can’t remember his name, I can’t find him in the telephone directory. Believe me, I’ve tried everything.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help you.”
“Please don’t hang up,” Ben pleaded. “You have to do something. If I don’t show up for this interview. I’m dead. Isn’t there a master list somewhere? Anything you have may save my life.”
“I’m sorry,” the operator said. “I’m not supposed to give out that information.”
“Please.” Ben tried to sound pleasant. “I’m not some kind of lunatic. I’ll give you my name and address and home phone number. I’ll give you my mother’s number. You can call her and ask her how nice I am. I just don’t want to lose this job over something stupid.”
“Well…”
“Please. If you help me, I’ll be forever in your debt. I’ll send you flowers. And chocolates. And individually wrapped kielbasa from Hickory Farms. Anything.”
“Here’s what I can do,” the operator finally said. “I can give you a list of the companies that are meeting in the suites that are run by the airport. There are only six of those, but you may find your company in there. If not, you’ll have to call all the airlines and beg each of them individually for the information.”
“You’re the greatest,” Ben exclaimed. “How can I thank you? Name your price. Diamonds? Pearls? Kielbasa?”
“How about you just leave me alone,” the operator answered.
“You got it.”
“These are the companies that have reservations,” she said. “Texaco has one room. And Brennan, Leit and Zareh has the other.”
“Isn’t that a law firm?” Ben asked as he put a star next to the firm’s name.
“I’m not sure,” the operator said.
“Are there any other companies?”
“That’s it,” she said. “The other four rooms are still open.”
“Oh, well,” Ben said. “I guess I’m off to beg. Thanks for all your help.”
“You’re welcome,” the operator said, sounding relieved.
Fourteen phone calls later, Ben had a list of thirty-four reservations for executive suites. Twenty-two of the reservations were made by major companies, eight were for individuals, three were for law firms, and one was for Congressman Cohen from Philadelphia. Ben pulled up the Lexis database on his computer, logged onto the Periodicals bulletin board, and entered the name “Stewart Moore,” one of the eight individuals who had reservations for Saturday. As the computer scanned through more than four thousand current periodicals, Ben knew the search was futile. Rick’s too smart to make a reservation in his own name, he thought, staring at the computer screen.