“What I’m interested in,” I said, “is how much money we can make with it.”
Slim looked at me with his great burning eyes while the steam rose from under the iron on my pants.
“You’re about to find out.” The ground-glass screen slowly lighted. A new bank of tubes began to sparkle and then settled down into a greenish glow. Slim turned dials, and there was the figure of a woman on the screen.
“That,” said Slim, “is Mrs. Tom Ellingbery.”
Well, of course I couldn’t see her face. She was playing bridge, apparently. Her hands looked nice. The woman at her left said, “I hear you’ve filed suit against your husband.”
Mrs. Ellingbery reached for a king, but her fingers were nervous. She played a six instead and lost the trick. “Yes,” she said quietly, “I have.” Her voice was sad.
I waited a minute. Then, “How did you know how to tune in on her?” I asked Slim.
“I got her wave-characteristics when she came up the other day to get us to serve the papers,” he said. “I got Tom’s today while we were talking. The machine was all set and the recording needles made a permanent record.”
I swallowed. “Can you get the landlord’s characteristics too?”
Slim held up a sheet of ruled paper. “Got his already. I was just practicing; I got him when he was trying to hammer the door down yesterday.”