Heck grunted, sat down in the one empty chair. The second visitor's
chair in the room was well-filled by the enormous bulk of one of the
hoodlum types being interviewed for the procurement staff. "Gee, lady,"
he said. "I dunno. Ten percent ain't so hot. If we was to sell to a
fence we could figure on maybe thirty percent of the value of the
merchandise."
* * * * *
"Sure, but working with a fence is catch as catch can. I guarantee you
a steady market. Besides, you will also be guaranteed a capture-proof
method of procurement. I already explained that to you."
"Prohibition was never like this," said the thug.
"Well, what do you say, my man? Come, come. There are others. If you
don't want--"
"Naw, I didn't say that. I guess I'll take the deal. Only, lemme see
that trick again. Walk through that wall."
"I already told you it wasn't really walking through walls. It is
teleporting."
"Teleporting, shmeleporting. Gimme the gadget."
"There is no gadget. You are now working for us. You can teleport. And
your specialty, Mr. Manetti--?"
"Tires. Automobile tires." Manetti walked toward the wall, chuckling
happily.
"We'll expect a shipment today."
"Today? But--"
"You can teleport it, remember?"
Manetti nodded his head, got halfway to the wall and disappeared.