Then on the third day, while Heck was settling a petty dispute between Georgette and another saleswoman named Marcia, he got an intercom call from Laara.
"Heck, you'd better come down to my office. There seems to be some trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Procurement trouble. Hurry up, before the police get here."
The word police sent Heck teleporting instantly. To hell with elevators and corridors, he told himself. To hell with a billion dollars. Police.... And if they were caught, they were caught with a warehouse full of stolen goods.
Heck materialized in the procurement office. A thug sat there nibbling at a finger half the size of a baseball bat. Laara was looking at him angrily. The thug resembled Manetti, but seemed bigger if not tougher. They all seemed to resemble Manetti.
"This is Mr. Fanetti," Laara said. "Mr. Fanetti, Mr. Finch."
"You mean, The Boss?" Fanetti said in a deep but awed voice. "A time like this I got to meet the boss? Jeez, boss, I'm sorry." For all his size and bulk, Fanetti cowered in front of Heck. He looked as if he expected Heck to hit him.
"What did Fanetti do?" Heck asked Laara. He was surprised that he could be so calm. It was Fanetti's attitude, he supposed. Fanetti's awe and respect did things for his ego.
"Let Fanetti tell it," Laara said, and Fanetti began: