The Big Money [antikvár]

CHAPTER ONEFor a moment it seemed as if I was talking to myself on the telephone. At first I couldn't believe my own ears. I had just dialed my office and heard a man's voice. That alone was enough to surprise me because only Cassidy, my secretary, who is unmistakably a soprano, has access to the phone. So naturally I thought I had the wrong number. "Circle 4-6400?" I asked."That's right.""Who's talking, please?""This is Scott Jordan," the man said, pronouncing my name as if he owned il, very smooth and very assured.I was flabbergasted. Finding yourself at both ends of the Hne simultaneously is a unique and somewhat unnerving experience. I felt my temperature begin to rise. If this was a gag, it failed to amuse me. A lawyer's office during business hours is no place for practical jokes. And then I realized that Cassidy would never lend herself to this kind of antic, and that something off beat was in the wind."May I talk to Miss Cassidy?" I asked."Sorry. She's out at the moment."My hand was gripping the phone hard. Out where? I wondered. Only a critical emergency could induce Cassidy to leave the office unattended. With an effort I kept my voice normal. "Would you give her a message, please? Tell her that Uncle Robert called.""Glad to. Good-by, sir."The line went dead as he broke the connection abruptly. 1 wasted no time getting out of the booth. I checked my Gladstone to get rid of excess freight and went highballing