Part 33 (2/2)
”What? Why not?”
”We've heard that the game has been enc.u.mbered.”
”What does that mean?”
”Someone else has a claim on the technology,” Urbeniski said. ”There's a suit in court. It makes your game less interesting to us.”
”But that's all a mistake,” John said. ”No one else has a claim on this!”
”Sure, but until the mistake is fixed, we can't make an order. You understand.”
”But-”
”When the problem is fixed,” Urbeniski said, ”we'll consider another arrangement.” The line went dead.
”What?!?” Grace cried.
John placed the phone in its cradle, then sat down on the couch. ”They heard about Paquelli's suit. They won't make a deal with that hanging over us.”
”But it's c.r.a.p!” Henry cried.
”Yeah, I know.”
”They can't do that!” Grace cried. ”That was a huge order! That would have made it all right!” She looked close to crying.
John just shook his head.
”We're doomed,” Henry said.
”We'll win our case,” John said. ”We'll deal with the city of Toledo. We'll get another big order.”
Grace said, ”I don't think so. This was a stupid idea!” She stormed off to the bathroom.
Henry looked on in surprise. John couldn't blame her. This was all his fault for getting them into this. He remembered then the card he'd gotten from that guy at Woodman's. What was his name? Visgrath? Ermanaric Visgrath? He'd been weird looking and he'd acted funny. But he'd wanted to invest. He'd probably be as leery as Typhoon Gold was. Where was that card?
There was a bowl of c.r.a.p on his kitchen counter, next to his keys and his wallet. He dug through it, tossing aside receipts and pieces of paper.
”Here it is,” he said. The business card was crumbled and folded, but the name and number were still visible.
”What?” Henry said.
”What if we got an investor?” John said. ”What if someone would fund us?”
”You want to bring someone else in?”
”They have money, and we don't.”
”Yeah, but...” Henry seemed to consider it.
”We're not only going to lose it all,” John said. ”We're going to lose it to Ray Paquelli.”
Henry gritted his teeth, as if he found the idea abhorrent. ”I dunno.” He glanced at the bathroom door.
John picked up his phone, then put it back down.
”Should I call?” he said. ”Should I find out if they're still interested?”
Henry shrugged.
John felt a moment's anger at Henry's ambivalence. He picked up the phone and dialed the number.
”Mr. Visgrath's office,” a male voice answered after the first ring.
”This is John Wilson. Mr. Visgrath gave me his number. ...”
”Ah, yes, the Pinball Wizards,” the voice said. ”Just a moment.”
”They remember us,” John answered.
”Why would they remember us?” Henry asked.
A deeper voice spoke into the phone. ”Mr. Wilson, so good of you to call. What can I do for you?”
”You-You said you'd be interested in financing our pinball machines.”
The door to the bathroom opened and Grace came out looking perplexed.
”Who's he talking to?” she whispered.
”Investors.”
”Yes, we're interested, though your circ.u.mstances have changed, have they not?”
”How so?” John asked.
”The lawsuit, of course, by Raymond Paquelli,” Visgrath said. ”And the problems with the city of Toledo.”
How could everyone know their business so easily? John wondered. How had Typhoon Gold and Ermanaric Visgrath both learned of it?
”Those things will go away in no time.”
”So you say.”
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