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Lease to Doomsday By: Lee Archer |
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By LEE ARCHER
The twins were a rare team
indeed. They wanted to build
a printing plant on a garbage
dump. When Muldoon asked them
why, their answer was entirely
logical: "Because we live here."
It was the lack of sense in the ad that made him go back to it again. He
was having his breakfast coffee in the cafeteria next to the midtown
hotel where he lived. The classified section of the New York Times was
spread before him. WANTED: Live wire Real Estate broker No selling 30 40. Room 657
Silvers Building 9 12 Monday morning. The ad made no sense for several reasons. One: you just don't go around
advertising for brokers with four pages of them in the classified phone
book. Two: how can one be a live wire broker, without having to sell?
Kevin Muldoon shook his head. Just no damn sense. The Silvers
Building H'm! Not too far off. He looked at his strap watch. Fifteen
minutes of nine. He could walk it in that time. "Don't be a fool," he said to himself. "It's obviously a come on of some
kind." He got up, paid the check and went out. It wasn't till he was on Third
Ave. that he was conscious he had started to go crosstown when his
office was in the opposite direction. He smiled wryly. Might as well
investigate, he thought. Can't do any harm, and it won't take long. There were four others waiting in the small anteroom. The outer door
bore no legend other than the room number, and the inner door was blank
altogether. Muldoon made a quick appraisal of those waiting. Three
were obviously past middle age, the fourth about Muldoon's age. The
inner door opened and Muldoon looked up. A tall man came out first, a
man in his early sixties, perhaps. Immediately behind him came a
slightly shorter man, but very heavy and with a head that was bald as a
billiard ball. The older man marched straight to the door, opened it and
went out without a second look back. The fat man looked around, his face
beaming in a wide smile, eyes almost closed behind fleshy lids. [Illustration: The weird machine clicked and clattered while the twins
dreamed of tomorrow.] "And now, who's next?" he asked. The one who was about Muldoon's age stepped forward. The fat man
motioned for the other to precede him. The door closed. Not more than a
minute went by, and the door opened again and the same act as before
with the older man was gone through. "And now, who's next?" the fat man asked. Muldoon noted even the inflection was the same. So it went with the three who were left, until it was Muldoon's turn.
And now there were six others beside himself also waiting to be
interviewed. It was a squarish room, simply furnished, with a couple of desks set
side by side with a narrow space between them. A chair was set up
facing the desks, obviously meant for the one to be interviewed. Seated
behind one of the desks was the twin of the man now coming to seat
himself at the other desk. Their smiles were identical as they waited
for Muldoon to make himself comfortable. For a moment there was a blank silence. Muldoon studied them, and they,
smiling still, studied him. Muldoon broke the silence. "You know," Muldoon said, "your ad didn't make sense to me." The twins hunched forward slightly at their desks. Their eyes brightened
in anticipation. "No o?..." said the one who had been waiting for
Muldoon. "Why?" "With some four pages of brokers in the classified directory, you don't
have to advertise for one. And a live wire broker gets that reputation
as a salesman. Without selling, the wire is dead." The twins beamed at each other. "Evin," said the one to the left, "I think we've found our man. Will you
go out and tell those waiting?" They waited for the twin to return. "I am Robert Reeger, my brother Evin," said the first twin. Muldoon introduced himself. There was no handshaking. "You are right about the ad," Robert Reeger said. "We worded it that way
for a reason. We wanted a man of quick intelligence... Continue reading book >>
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