“What’s your game, mister?” Ames exploded.
“When Swift removed those papers from my safe,” Horst said, “he heard a click. Right?”
“What about it?” Tom said.
“The noise was from the shutter of a hidden
120 3-D TELEJECTOR
camera. It snapped you in the act of stealing the plans for my new 3-D
television system.”
“Your 3-D system?” Tom blurted in dismay.
“Exactly,” Horst replied gloatingly. “I am now back at my lab and your fingerprints are on the dial of my safe. I could call the police and charge you with safecracking! … Moreover, you’ve stolen my car and your prints are on that, too.
You fell into my trap, Swift, and now I have you right where I want you!”
Tom set his jaw. “What’s this leading up to?”
“A deal,” Horst said. “Sell your 3-D system or sign a contract to hold it off the market for five years. The terms will be generous. If you refuse, I’ll say you stole my plans and smear your name all over the headlines.”
Tom choked back his rage. “You want a Yes or No answer right now?”
Horst chuckled. “I know the answer, Swift-it has to be Yes. You’ll hear from me later about the contract details.”
Grim-faced, Tom flew back to the plant for a midnight conference with Harlan Ames.
“Surely he can’t get away with this,” Tom fumed, stalking up and down. “It’s blackmail!”
“The police will never swallow it,” Ames agreed. “But once Horst gives out his story, Tom, you’re sunk. He has your prints on his safe and a photo of you lifting out plans. A lot of people are bound to believe his tale. Enterprises’ good name could be ruined.”
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127