"
"Ten to two, you say," Rand considered. "Look. A couple of days ago,
Rivers put out a new price-list to his regular customers. A lot of them,
in different parts of the country, order by telephone, and some of them
live in the West, where there's a couple of hours' time-difference. One
of them, calling at, say, eight o'clock, local time, would get his call
in at ten, Eastern Standard. If you checked the long-distance calls to
Rivers's number last night, now, you might get something."
"Yeah. And if he took a call after nine twenty-two, that would let
Gresham out. Even Farnsworth could figure that out. Sure. I'll check
right away."
"Who's at Rivers's now?"
"Skinner and Jameson, of our gang. And Farnsworth, and some of his
outfit. And the hell's own slew of reporters, of course," McKenna said.
"Aarvo's going back there, in a little. We're still trying to locate Mrs.
Rivers; we haven't been able to, yet. The maid says she went to New York
day before yesterday."
"I'll probably be around at Rivers's, later in the day. I want to check
on that Fleming angle."
"Uh-huh; I'll be there, in half an hour," Corporal Kavaalen said. "Be
seeing you."
They exchanged so-longs, and Kavaalen backed, and made a U-turn, moving
off in the direction of Rosemont.
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