Stephen Marlowe

“ Laara asked in a hurt voice. "By noon I ought to have the whole procurement force, and you say—"
"Crooks. Gangsters."
"What did you expect, a staff of Little Lord Fauntleroys? After all, if they have to burgle—"
"Burgle!"
"Of course. We don't have any working capital. How do you expect to get any merchandise to sell? We burgle it—but safely—via teleportation."
"That's against the law," Heck said.
Laara looked at him blankly. "Is it? Do you really care?"
"I really, definitely, truly care! Call off your procurement force, Laara. That's an order. Go out and get us some money." ”

“ But if you were looking for it, as Heck was, it seemed as big as a sixteen-inch naval gun.
The pretty female elevator operator smiled and said a few things and obviously expected Heck to flirt with her as the car went down. Heck maintained a white-faced silence.
"Say, Mr. Finch, is anything the matter? You don't look so good."
Scarface Willy grunted a barely audible warning. Patty let out a sigh. "Working too hard, I guess," Heck told the elevator operator.
"Well, you're white as a sheet. Why don't you go down to the beach and get yourself a good sunburn one of these days." ”

“ Talese gives protection, see? When Talese gives protection, he wants it to stick. See? You, Fanetti!"
"Yeah, Boss?"
"Sit on that guy again. You did that real good."
Fanetti looked at Scarface Willy. He looked at Heck. He shifted his feet uncomfortably.
"Because I'm getting out of here," Scarface Willy said. "With the dame. I don't like this joint. Dames who throw themselves at you. Dames who don't. People who pop up out of nowheres. A madam who calls herself a sales director. Maybe Red here can straighten me out. Can't you, Red?"
"I won't tell you a thing," Patty told him coldly. ”

“ Laara said, and Fanetti began:
"I work out of wholesale liquor, boss. Man, for three days it's just like prohibition all over again. Hell, I was a punk kid then, but I remember. You know? Honest, boss, I didn't—"
"Get to the point, Fanetti," Heck said curtly.
"We had this deal. The National Liquor Warehouse is in this city, you know?"
"That was Fanetti's first mistake," Laara cut in. "I told them. I tried to drum it into their stupid heads. It would be better to work other cities. With teleportation at their fingertips, what's the difference how far they went? ”

“ Anyone could make sales like that."
"Heck, what's a salesman's dream?"
"Walking through walls, I guess. Getting at the customer no matter what."
"But we're grown men. We know that walking through walls is impossible."
"It was only a matter of speaking," said Heck, downing his fifth martini and thinking of Patty. If Patty ever learned about that blonde....
"Yes, to be sure. A matter of speaking. But did you ever hear of teleportation?"
"No," said Hector Finch promptly. How his head was whirling!
"Teleportation is instantaneous transport from one position in space, from one location, to another. ”

“ If the cops came in on this, there was no telling what might happen to Patty. The mental numbness enveloping him again, Heck went back into the building.
"Maybe you'd better send for Baldid," Heck told Laara. "Because if anybody can help us, it's Baldid."
"But you're wrong, Heck," the blonde said promptly. "You couldn't be wronger. Baldid is a successful businessman, is all. He wouldn't know how to deal with this situation at all."
"Me," Heck groaned, "I'm not even a successful businessman. I'm nothing. I'm nobody."
"You're Hector Finch. Don't ever say you're nobody." ”

“ Laara said.
Clearly, Fanetti did not know what to do. He sat there looking sadly at Heck, looking sadly at Laara.
Then Heck remembered.
Heck teleported.
But Fanetti clung to him.
"I don't get you dames a-tall," Scarface Willy Talese said. "The skinny little strawberry blonde was all for it. I figure, that's the general idea. But I don't go for the skinny little strawberry blonde. You know? Some dames you go for and some dames you don't."
"I wouldn't know," Patty said coldly.
"Well, I go for you, baby," Scarface Willy said. "I go for you in a big way. And what Willy Talese goes for, he gets." ”

“ The two thugs at the barrier began to argue about the respective merits of Miramar and Sultan's Lady. Numbers flashed on the tote board. Sultan's Lady had won on the shorter odds and that meant something to one of the thugs. It seemed to mean the opposite to the other.
"Willy Talese," Heck said. "I've got to find where he hangs out. It's a matter of life and death. I've got to see him."
"I thought you said business." Suspiciously.
"Well, yes. Of course."
"Pal, I wish I could help you. Hey, do any of you guys know Willy's hangout address? Confidential, of course. For Willy's good friend here." ”

“ Miss Laara, her blonde hair in an upsweep and harlequin glasses perched on her pretty nose, was saying.
She looked up. "Oh, hi. Hi, Heck."
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. ”

“ Fanetti, he tells me, you're looking to get killed. Fanetti, you're as good as dead if you take as much as another shot of liquor from National. Fanetti, he screams, I get fifty thousand bucks a year in protection money from National Liquor. ”

“ I'll get a job. Maybe Jason Spooner will hire me. But I won't be a party to any wholesale burglaries."
"Very well," the blonde Laara said. "If that's what you want. But first I'd like to point out we have a staff of over five hundred in this building. They've all been here an hour or so. They'll all demand at least a day's pay, if you let them go. Some of them will demand two weeks pay and the courts might decide they're entitled to it. Do you imagine—can you imagine—where that would put you? In debt for life, Hector Finch, unless you go through with our business arrangements." ”

“ Finch's office?" repeated Laara. "But he was supposed to see us right here in Procurement. After all, it's a procurement problem."
"But a tall redhead with plenty of Irish in her!" cried Sophie with professional enthusiasm. "Don't you see?"
"Patty!" shouted Heck in dismay. "You want Patty to try what Georgette—"
He forgot all about teleportation. He began to run from the room.
"Stop him, Fanetti!" Laara cried. "Stop him!"
"The Boss?" Fanetti asked in an awed voice.
"You're in Procurement. You work for me. I'm The Boss. Stop him. Stop him or you're fired." ”

“ You sell anything, Heck. You sell it, though, when and where it is absolutely needed. It's a salesman's paradise: no one can refuse you. No one."
"But—Patty! I'll have to quit Weatherby. And Patty—"
"You're a salesman, aren't you? A passionate salesman? Don't you love Patty? Sell her the idea of coming along as your secretary. You can do it—if anyone can."
"But, but—"
"Be firm, Heck! Believe in yourself. Here." The little man held out something. It was a business card. "Your business card," the little man said. The card said: HECTOR FINCH, Inc. We Sell Anything, Anywhere, Anytime. ”

“ You must have been thinking of me when you went to sleep, so you dreamed...."
"Don't be so rational. I want to believe you. But dreams aren't so rational, Heck."
"Get back into bed," Heck commanded. "You'll see you are dreaming. You—you'll be sleeping soundly again in seconds." ”

“ To hell with a billion dollars. Police.... And if they were caught, they were caught with a warehouse full of stolen goods.
Heck materialized in the procurement office. A thug sat there nibbling at a finger half the size of a baseball bat. Laara was looking at him angrily. The thug resembled Manetti, but seemed bigger if not tougher. They all seemed to resemble Manetti.
"This is Mr. Fanetti," Laara said. "Mr. Fanetti, Mr. Finch."
"You mean, The Boss?" Fanetti said in a deep but awed voice. "A time like this I got to meet the boss? Jeez, boss, I'm sorry." ”

“ Laara pointed out: "Don't you think Scarface Willy has to go on making a living?"
Fanetti said: "Scarface Willy is real mad, see? After prohibition, Scarface gets into the protection racket. He knows the liquor trade, see? He knows the liquor people. So he starts protecting all the liquor distributors in Metropolitan City, back in the thirties. And ever since."
"Including National, from which Fanetti has been taking out several hundred cases of liquor a day."
"Including National," Heck groaned.
"Today," Fanetti finished, "Scarface Willy meets me there. He's mad. He's boiling, lemme tell you. ”

“ Yes, Heck. You're the man we want."
"I'm sorry," Heck said promptly. "But I like my work with Weatherby, Inc. I couldn't possibly—"
"You have, I believe," said the little man with a smile, "a fiancée in the home office of Weatherby, Inc. By name, Patty O'Conner. Irish and—shall we say, tempestuous?"
"What about Patty?" Heck groaned. He thought he knew what was coming.
"Last night, after the first evening of the convention, you and a blonde named—"
"Never mind her name!" ”

“ How in hell can I protect National, he hollers, from guys like you who just make the goddamn liquor disappear? Fanetti, if you ever do that again, I will have you hit in the head and put in a cement overcoat and dropped in the river. So I tell him I ain't the boss and this gets Scarface Willy mad, too. He figures he is the boss of liquor in this city. He wants I should take him to you. As we have strict orders from Miss Laara that nobody but ourselves is to ever get telewachamacallited, I tell him he will have to come here on shank's mare. ”

“ The blonde stared at him defiantly. Defiantly? he wondered. But defiantly meant she was trying to defy him. It wasn't that way at all. If there was any defying that had to be done, it would be on Heck's part. The blonde was in the driver's seat. Heck wondered: who really runs Hector Finch. We Sell Anything? It certainly wasn't Heck.
Gangsters, he thought. Criminals. And how many robberies a day? He shuddered, and teleported.
He blinked.
He stared.
He gaped.
He had begun to materialize in a locker room. He had of course been in locker rooms before. But never in ladies' locker rooms. ”

“ After all, the circumstances were unusual.
"Patty?" asked the blonde dreamily. "Paa-tii? Oh, yes, the girl friend. Well, just you bring her along to work for us if you want, as a secretary or clerk or something."
"For—us?" Heck asked.
"Us, of course. I'm part of Hector Finch. We Sell Anything." ”

“ Neither time nor space—nor walls, Heck—are a barrier to teleportation. This is what I offer you. With it you can be with the right product at the right place at the right time, and a customer's 'no' and locked door won't mean a thing to you. ”

“ But you—"
"Dreaming. Yes, dreaming. You ought to know me by now, Patty love. Would I barge into your bedroom at three in the morning? Would I?"
"Well, I hadn't thought you would," Patty admitted. "But I certainly don't feel like I'm dreaming. And besides," she went on suspiciously, "a person in a dream never tells the person who is dreaming that she's dreaming. It just isn't done."
"It's done in this dream. Here, I'll pinch you."
"No, keep away from me!"
"Patty, I'm in Cleveland at the salesman's convention. I called you long distance from Cleveland tonight, remember? So how can I be here? ”