Manning started the car. "It'll take six months for the Bureau to get around to it. And in the meantime, our wise friend will be making hay while the sun shines."
Wheeler laughed. "Hell, he'll be lucky if he makes his rent. Didn't seem like a bad guy, though."
Manning's hands tightened on the wheel. "He's a huckster, Ray. A cheap, grafting little huckster who's too damn big for his britches. And I'm going to see that he gets exactly what he deserves."
Wheeler looked worried. "Don't ever get too personal about it, Fred. You gotta have an objective viewpoint all the time."
Maybe he was making too much of it, Manning thought coldly. But when everything else went to pot you liked to ... bury yourself in your work.
"More coffee, Fred?"
"Yeah. Cream and sugar it, Judy." He poked at the thing on the table with a pencil. "What do you think of it, Ray?"
Wheeler nibbled at his sandwich, looking like a slightly overstuffed beaver. "I don't make a damn thing out of it. It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen before. What did you take it apart for?"
"See what makes it tick—if it does. And I wanted to know who made it. A lot of manufacturers stamp their parts either with a trademark or some other kind of identifying symbol."