He went over to the cabinet where the switch was, opened it, and punched the relay button. The lights came on.
He stalked back up the stairs and headed for the visiphone. First, he dialed his patent attorney's office; he needed some advice. If Power Utilities had their hands on two out of three of his Converters, there might be some trouble over getting the patents through.
The attorney's secretary said he wasn't in, and she didn't know if he expected to be back that day. It was, she informed Bending rather archly, nearly five in the afternoon. Bending thanked her and hung up.
He dialed the man's home, but he wasn't there, either.
Sam Bending stuck a cigarette in his mouth, fired it up, walked over to his easy-chair and sat down to think.
According to the police, the first Converter had been stolen on Friday night. The second one had obviously been taken sometime this morning, while he was in the lab with the police.
That made sense. The first one they'd tried to open had fused, so they decided to try to get a second one. Only how had they known he had had more than one? He hadn't told anyone that he had three—or even two.
Well, no matter. They had found out. The question was, what did he do next? Inform the police of the two thefts or—
There was a car pulling up outside the house.
Sam stood up and glanced out the window. It was a steel-blue Ford.