Lately, Nim's conscience had troubled him about Karen-in two ways. On the one hand he cared about her very much indeed, and felt guilty because he had not visited her since the night they made love, even though they had talked by telephone. And on the other hand, there was Ruth. How did his love affair with Karen fit in with his reconciliation and new rapport with Ruth? the truth was: it didn't. Yet he could not suddenly toss Karen aside like a used Kleenex. If it had been some other woman he could, and would, have done it instantly. But Karen was different.
He had considered telling Ruth about Karen, then decided nothing would be gained by it. Besides, Ruth had enough problems without adding to them; also, he would be the one who would have to decide about Karen. He was ashamed to admit it, even to himself, but for the time being he had put Karen on a mental shelf and, for that reason, delayed opening her letter now.
The thought of Ruth, though, reminded him of something else.
"Vicki," he called through the open office door, "did you get those hotel reservations?"
"Yesterday." She came in, pointing to the green folder. "I wrote you a note; it's in there. The Columbus had a cancellation, so you have a two-bedroom suite. They promised me it will be high and with a view."
"Good! How's that last revision of my speech coming?"
"If you'll stop asking questions to which I've already given you answers," Vicki told him, "I'll have it ready this afternoon."
He grinned. "Get out of here!"
In a week's time Nim was due to address the annual convention of the National Electric Institute. His paper, which had already gone through several drafts, would be about future power demands and was entitled "Overload."
The big national NEI convention, important to the public utility industry and its suppliers, was being held locally this year-in the Christopher Columbus Hotel. It would last four days. Because there were numerous social events, it occurred to Nim it would be an interesting change for his family if they moved with him into the hotel for the duration of the convention. He had put the suggestion to Ruth, Leah, and Benjy, who reacted enthusiastically.
The idea of getting a high room with a view was Nim's. He thought the children would enjoy it.
His promise to speak at the NEI convention had been made nearly a year ago, long before his removal from the role of company spokesman. When Nim mentioned the commitment recently to Eric Humphrey, the chairman told him, "Go ahead, but stay away from controversy." In fact, Nim's paper would be heavily technical, intended mainly for other power company planners like himself. Whether or not he would season it-despite the chairman's warning-with a soupcon of controversy, he had not yet decided.
As Vicki closed the office door behind her, Nim went back to his red file, then decided he would open Karen's letter after all.
He was sure the envelope contained verses-the verses Karen so painstakingly typed with a stick held in her mouth. And, as always, be was moved by the thought of her laboring long and patiently on his behalf.
He was right.
TOP SECRET (as the military say);
For your eyes only, darling Nimrod,
(Such dear, kind eyes).
No others should alight
On this communiqué
Un-military,
Very private, intimate, adoring.
My sensual delectation lingers:
A swirling, heady, Cyprian mixture,
At once
So sweetly light, robustly carnal.
My mind, my flesh
My nerve ends, toes, lips, fingers,
Tingling with joyous residues,
Remember-Oh my precious lover! -
The rich fulfillment of your loving.
Such ecstasy!
From this day forth
I'll vote for hedonism!
You are indeed a noble knight
In burnished armor,
Whose shining sword
(Especially that sword)
Brings golden happiness.
I thrill to it,
And you,
Forever.
Karen, he thought, when he had finished, you turn me on! Oh, how you turn me on!
His best intentions seemed to melt. He would see Karen again, no matter what. And soon. First, though, he reminded himself, he had a heavy work schedule, including his convention speech. He settled down again to the official mail. Moments later the telephone buzzed. When Nim answered impatiently, Vicki informed him, "Mr. London is on the line and would like to talk to you."
Conscious of the bulging red folder, Nim told her, "Ask if it's important."
"I already did. He says it is."
"Put him on, then." A click and the Property Protection chief's voice said, "Nim?"
"Harry, this is a full week for me. Is it anything that will keep?"
"I don't think so. Something tricky has come up, something I think you ought to know about."
"Okay, go ahead."
"Not on the phone. I need to see you."
Nim sighed. At times Harry London acted as if everything in his department rated top priority compared with the rest of GSP & L. "All right. Come up now."
Nim resumed work until London arrived some five minutes later.
Pushing his chair back from the desk, Nim. said, "I'm listening, Harry. But make it brief."
"I'll try." the short, craggy Property Protection chief settled down in a facing chair. In dress and demeanor he still looked the smart, sharp ex-Marine, but there were more lines on his face than a few months ago, Nim thought.
"You'll remember," London began, "that soon after we caught those Quayle guys stealing power at the Zaco Building, I told you we'd uncovered a rat's nest. I predicted there was a lot more to come, and that some big names might be intervened."
Nim nodded.
"Try this big name on: Mr. Justice Paul Sherman Yale."
Nim shot upright. "You have to be kidding!"
"I wish I were," London said dolefully. "Unfortunately, I'm not."
All of Nim's impatience had vanished. He instructed, "Tell me everything you know. Everything."
"That day you and I had lunch," Harry London said, "something else I told you was that my department would check the records of Quayle Electrical & Gas Contracting-working with the D.A.'s officeto review all the work Quayle did in the past year. After that we'd do more investigating to discover how much of it, if any, was illegal."
"I remember."
"We did all that. My people have worked like the devil and we found a bundle. You'll get the details in a report I'm writing. The gist of it is that the D.A. has many more cases to prosecute, with big dollar numbers attached."
"Get to Mr. Yale," Nim said. "How does he fit in?"
"I'm coming to that."
Among the Quayle company work orders, the Property Protection chief reported, were an unusual number initiated for the same person, an Ian Norris.
Though the name seemed familiar, Nim couldn't place it.
"Norris," London said, "is a lawyer who works as some kind of financial adviser. He has an office in town-it's in the Zaco Building, wouldn't you know W-and he looks after trusts and estates. One of them is called the Yale Family Trust."
"I know about the Yale Trust." Now Nim remembered Norris. They had met briefly at the cattle feedlot near Fresno.
"We have solid proof," London continued, "that Norris is in power theft up to his hairline. He controls a lot of property-office and industrial buildings, apartments, stores, that kind of stuff. Apparently Norris discovered some time ago that he could do a better job for his clients save them money and make some for himself-if he lowered electricity and gas bills by cheating. He figured he could get away with it-at least, that's the way it looks-so he went into stealing power on a grand scale, using Quayle Electrical & Gas Contracting."