"Wealthy enough not to be tempted by one hundred and twenty thousand in cash?"
"It is a lot of money; but"—Cordovez shrugged—"I do not think Luis would steal just for money."
"Married?"
"Twice. The two children are grown. The son manages the estate and the daughter is in the States. His second wife is a countrywoman of yours. Very beautiful."
"Do you know where his office is?"
"Of course."
"Then let's go."
He followed Cordovez out to a three-year-old Ford which had been parked along the semicircular drive, and presently they were rolling down a quiet, tree-lined street, turning right at the end to make the descent into the city. Here the newness of the houses, the modernity of the architecture that had been built into the many small apartments
impressed Jeff greatly, but he noticed that every ground-floor window was protected by an ornamental metal grill.
He mentioned it. He asked if they were necessary.
"Oh 5 sure/' Cordovez said, and laughed. "At night there are always prowlers. It is best to be safe/'
The traffic thickened as they came into the valley and there were times when it stalled completely. Yet no one seemed greatly disturbed and not once did a horn blow. He mentioned this, too, and Cordovez said:
"To do so means jail or a fine. It is against the law/'
"But don't things get awfully jammed up?"
"Oh, yes. And when it becomes unbearable we do this to show our displeasure." He put his arm out the window and began to pound the heel of his hand against the side of the door. "Near the center in the late afternoon it sometimes sounds like thunder/* he said, and laughed again.
The building that housed Miranda's office was square, tall, modern, and, because of the stunted appearance of its neighbors and its distance from the center of the city, strangely incongruous. Cordovez double-parked in front of it and asked if he should wait. Jeff thought it over and said no.
"I don't know how long I'll be and if you've got friends at Segurnal why don't you snoop around and find out what they know."
"Very well." Cordovez tore a sheet out of a small notebook and wrote down two numbers. "My home," he said; "my office, I am in touch every hour. Someone will take your message/*
Luis Miranda had a suite on the fourteenth fioor, and when Jeff walked into the paneled, air-conditioned anteroom he remembered the airport building and Segufnal and decided that whoever had the air-conditioning agency in Caracas was doing aH right. The pretty brunette at the
desk took Ms name and picked up a telephone. When she hung up she said:
"Mr. Miranda will see you in a few minutes/'
Jeff walked over to the window and looked across the valley at a hillside that was crawling with bulldozers and trucks. Dust rose like brown fog to be carried away by the morning breeze and the scars that showed so clearly spoke of another development in the growth of the city,
He was still there when the light tap of heels behind him caused him to turn in time to see a striking-looking blonde in a figured-cotton dress bearing down on him from the direction of the inner corridor. She had an erect, full-breasted figure that was big-boned and ripely rounded; she also had the height to complement the curves. Her hair, worn rather long, was straw-colored, and her face was broad across the cheekbones and richly tanned. Her eyes, which looked as if they had been rinsed in bluing earlier that morning, were bold but friendly in their appraisal and contrasted sharply with the tan that spread smoothly down the deep V of her dress.
'"Hello," she said. "You're Jeffrey Lane, aren't you?"
"Why—yes," Jeff said, deciding that the hair was natural and putting her age somewhere around his own.
"I'm Mrs. Miranda," she said. "Arnold's told us quite a lot about you. 9 *
"Oh?"
*Td like to talk to you if you have the time. ... I'll wait for you in the car," she said—as though everything had been decided. "A blue Buick just across the street and very badly parked." She smiled. "You can t miss it"
The little brunette watched her go. When she caught Jeff's eye she pointed to the corridor. "The last door/' she said.
Luis Miranda's office was as impressive as the man himself. A corner room, it was darkly paneled except for the
wall of books, and the furniture was heavy-looking and expensive. Miranda stood until Jel was seated, smiled, and folded his brown, long-fingered hands, exposing a star sapphire in what looked like a platinum mounting.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Lane?"
"Give me some information/ 9 Jeff said, "if you can and if it's ethical"
He lit a cigarette and asked if Miranda knew why he was in Caracas. When the answer was affirmative he went on to explain the situation at the Lane Manufacturing Company and Miranda listened patiently until he finished. Then, to make sure he had the picture, he went over the details in his own way.
"Yours had always been a family business until recently?*'
"Yes."
"And what is it you manufacture?"
"Lately most of our business has been in clutches."
"Like on automobiles?"
"Everything but. We have a new principle on a drive that will work on motors of any size. A lot of our clutches go into such things as washing machines, dishwashers, dryers, mixers, power tools. Because of the new drive there is less strain, on motors, gears, and bearings, all of which makes maintenance practically non-existent."
"Yes," Miranda said. "So for tax purposes and to clear up your bank loans, you decided to offer stock to the public four years ago. The original one thousand shares held by your family were split two hundred for one, making two hundred thousand shares in all. Your family controlled ninety thousand shares and this, with stockholders favorable to you, was enough to control the company. You do not wish to have this Tyler-Texas Company take over the business."
"They work one of two ways, 315 Jeff said. "TheyVe been buying up shares in the market and if they can get control
they'll either take over with an exchange of stock or they'll move in, use up the cash to increase dividends and run the price up, and then unload. If Arnold votes with them/' he said, "we're out."
He put his cigarette away and spoke of Karen Holmes. "She saw Arnold yesterday," he said, "and I wondered if he gave any indication to you how he felt or what sort of proposition Miss Holmes made/'
"He mentioned something about Miss Holmes offering a bonus."
Jeff thought it over, not liMng what he heard, his brows bunching with the effort and his teeth absently worrying his lower lip. When this got him nowhere he decided to speak of Carl Webb and the assignment that had brought him to Caracas.
Again Miranda listened attentively, his expression inscrutable and nothing that resembled surprise showing in his dark eyes.
"What I'd like to know," Jeff said when he finished, "is whether Arnold could raise that much cash. I don't think he'd dare give himself away to Webb unless he did but—"
"He could, and he did." Miranda unfolded his hands and leaned back. He turned one hand over and put it on the arm of his chair and now his voice was mildly sardonic. "Reticence is not one of your stepbrother's qualities. He was and is a very self-possessed man and inclined to be boastful."
His glance moved beyond Jeff to the windows and stayed there. "He lived well since he came to Caracas and supported himself by acting as agent for certain foreign companies. He had some money to invest and made some speculations, not all of them profitable. But he was smart about one thing.
"Two years ago he bought five or six acres in the Valle Arriba section close to the golf club. He put in a street and
ONE MINUTE PAST EIGHT yi
built a house and subdivided the rest. I understand the house and lot cost Mm one hundred thousand B ? s. He could sell now for three hundred thousand. 9 *