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a big reduction all at once-a computer will never pick it up."

"Any way you look at it, we're on the losing side."

"Maybe right now. But that will change."

Nim was less sure.

Perhaps the most bizarre episode occurred at midafternoon wben London

received a message at the communications center, calling him to an

address a mile or so away.

The house, they saw on arrival, was large and modern; it bad a landscaped

garden and a long curved driveway in which a shiny Mercedes was parked.

The ubiquitous orange and white GSP & L vehicles were assembled on the

road outside,

The same young serviceman who had been at the gas station-garage complex

this morning approached London's car as it pulled up. "Problems," he

announced. "Need some help."

"What kind of problems?"

One of the Property Protection staffers, who had joined them, said, "The

woman inside is threatening to turn a dog loose on us. It's a big German

Shepherd. She says her husband's a doctor, a big wheel in the community,

and they'll sue the company if we cause them any trouble."

"What brought you here?"

The serviceman answered. "One of the meter readers-a sharp college

kid-reported a suspicious wire. He was right, I took a look behind the

electric meter, and the pot strap's been dropped, with two wires bridging

it. I traced the wires to a switch in the garage-there was no one around

and the garage door was open. That's when the woman showed up with the

dog."

Nim looked puzzled. London ordered, "Explain to Mr. Goldman."

"At the back of some ty

. pes of meter there's a 'potential strap,' " the

serviceman said. "If it's disconnected-'dropped'-it breaks

a circuit so

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the meter stops registering. But put a switch across, in place of the pot

strap, and the meter can be turned on and off whenever you want."

"And that's been done here?"

"Sure has."

Nim cautioned, "You're absolutelv certain?"

"I'll swear to it."

The Property Protection man added, "I saw it, too. There isn't any

doubt." He consulted a notebook. "The customer's name is Edgecombe."

"Okay," London said, "to bell with the dog! Call for a photog, and let's

try to get evidence."

They waited while the serviceman used a radio transmitter in his truck,

then Harry London led the small procession up the driveway, As the),

neared the house, a tall, handsome woman, probablv in her f~rties,

emerged through the front door. She was wearing blue linen slacks and a

matching silk shirt; long, dark brown hair was tied back with a scarf.

Beside her was a German Shepherd, growling and straining on a leash which

the woman held.

She announced coldly, "I warned you men that if you continue trespassing

I'll release this dog and you can take the consequences. Now get off this

property!"

"Madam," London said firmly, "I caution you to hing on to that dog or tie

it up. I'm a security offic~r for Golden'State Power & Light"-he produced

a badge-"and this is Mr. Goldman, a vice president of the compan.v."

"Vice presidents don't impress me," the woman snapped. "My husband knows

the president of your company well, and the chairman."

"In that case," Nim told her, "I'm sure he'll appreciate that even"one

here today is simply doing his job. You are Mrs. Edgecombe?"

She answered haughtily, "Yes."

"Our Service Department has reported you have an illegal installition

across your electric meter."

"If there is, we knoxv nothing about it. Mv husband's an important

orthopedic surgeon, and be's operating today or I'd call him to deal with

your impertinence now."

For all the bravado, Nim thought, there was a hint of nervousness in the

woman's eyes and voice. London caught it, too "Mrs. Edgecombe," he said,

11 we want to take photographs of the electric meter and some wires

behind it; thev lead to a switch in your garage. We'd appreciate it if

you'd give us permission."

"And if I won't?"

"Then we'll seek a court order. But I should point out in that case

everything will become a matter of public record."

The woman hesitated and Nim wondered if she realized Harrv London was

largely bluffing. By the tirne a court order was obtained the evi-

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dence could have been destroyed. But the exchange had flustered her. "That

won't be necessary," she conceded. "Very well, do what you must, but be

quick about it."

" just one other thing, madam," London said. "When we're finished here,

your electricity will be disconnected until the arrears, which our Billing

Department will estimate, are paid."

"That's ridiculous! My husband will have plenty to say about that." Mrs.

Edgecombe turned away, fastening the dog's leash to a steel ring in the

wall. Nim observed that her hands were trembling.

"Why do they do it-people like that?" Nim posed the question softly, asking

it of himself as much as Harry London. They were in London's car, headed

once more for the shopping plaza where Nim would retrieve his own car, then

drive downtown. He had seen more than enough of Brookside, he decided, and

enough of power thievery to grasp truly, for the first time, the size and

hydra-beaded nature of the beast.

"There's lots of reasons why they do it," London answered. "Where we ve

just been, and at the other places, too. For one thing, people talk. They

like to boast about how smart they are, beating a big outfit like Golden

State Power. And while they're talking, others listen, then do the same

thing later."

"You think that explains epidemics like we've seen today?"

"It's some pieces in the puzzle."

"And the rest?"

"Some of it's crooked tradesmen-the ones I really want to catch. They put

the word around that they'll do the meter fixing-at a price. It all sounds

easy, and people go along."

Nim said doubtfully, "That still doesn't explain that last place. The

wealthy doctor-an orthopedic surgeon, one of the highest paid specialties.

And you saw his wife, the house. Why?"

"I'll tell you something I learned as a cop," London said. "Don't let

appearances fool you. Plenty of people with big incomes and flashy houses

are deep in debt, struggling to stay afloat, to save a buck wherever they

can, and not too fussy about bow. I'll bet the same thing's true of this

whole place, Brookside. And look at it this way: Not so long ago utility

bills didn't amount to much; but now bills are big and getting bigger, so

some who wouldn't cheat before, because it wasn't worth it, have changed

their minds. Tbe stakes are higher; they'll take the risk."

Nim nodded agreement, adding, "And most public utilities are so huge and

impersonal, people don't equate theft of power with other kinds of

stealing. They're not as critical-the way they would be about burglary or

purse snatching."

50

"I've done a lot of thinking about that part of it. I believe the whole

thing's bigger." London stopped the car while waiting for a traffic light

to change. When they were moving again he continued, "The wav I see it,

most people have decided the system stinks because our politicians are

corrupt, in one way or another, so why should ordinary Joes punish

themselves by always being honest? Okay, they say, one bunch got flushed

out with Watergate, but the new people, who were so damned righteous before

they got elected, are doing the same crooked thingspolitical payoffs and

worse-now that they're in power."

"That's a pretty depressing viewpoint."

"Sure it is," London said. "But it explains a lot that's happening, and not

just what we've seen today. I mean the crime explosion, all the way from

big crime down to petty larceny. And I'll tell you something else: There

are davs-tbis is one-when I wish I was back in the Marines where

everytl~ing seemed simpler and cleaner."

"It wouldn't now."

London sighed. "Maybe."

"You and your people did a good job today," Nim said.

"We're in a war." Harry London pushed aside his seriousness and grinned.

"Tell your boss-the commaiider-in-cliief-we won a skirmish, and we'll win

him some more."

9.

"At the risk of inflating your ego," Ruth Goldman said across the breakfast

table, "I'll tell you you were pretty good on TV last night. More coffee?"

"Yes, please." Nim passed his cup. "And thanks."

Ruth lifted the percolator and poured; as alwavs, her movements were easy'

graceful and efficient. She had on an emerald green housecoat in vivid

contrast to her neatly combed black hair, and her small, firm breasts were

attractively visible as she leaned forwird; when Nim and Ruth were courting

he bad referred to them foridly as "half-pint specials." At this moment her

face had the merest trace of makeup, cxactly the right amount,

complementing a milk-and-roses complexion. No matter bow early it was, Ruth

always looked naturally impeccable. Nim, who bad seen many other women in

their morning-after clishabille, supposed be should be grateful.

It was NN"cdnesday. Almost a week bad passed since D-day at Brookside.

Because he had been unusuallv tired-a result of long work hours

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and pressure over several weeks, culminating in last evening's session in a

hot TV studio under liglits-Niin had slept late this morning-late for

fiim-until 8:30. Leah and BenJy had left for an all-day recreation program

before he came down, and now he was having a leisurely breakfast with Ruth,

something which happened rarely. Nim had already telephoned his office to

say be would not be at work until midmorning.

"Leah staved up to watch The Good Evening Show," Ruth said. "Bcnjy wan~cd

to, but fell asleep. Children aren't apt to say so, but they're both quite

proud of you, you know. In fact they idolize you. Whatever you say, it's as

if it came from God."

"I like this coffee," Nim said. "Is it a new brand?"

Ruth shook her bead. "It's because you're not drinking it on the run. Did

you hear what I said about Leah and Benjy?"

"Yes, and I was thinking about it. I'm proud of the kids too." He chuckled.

"Is this my day for compliments?"

"If you're wondering if I want something from you, I don't. Except I'd like

us to have breakfast this way more often."

He said, "I'll work on it." He wondered if Ruth was being especially

agreeable because, like himself, she sensed the gap which had been growing

between them of late-the gap created by his own indifference and, more

recently, by Ruth's mysterious pursuit of some private interest, whatever

that might be. Nim tried to remember, but couldn't, when they had last made

love. Why was it, he speculated, that a mail could lose sexual interest in

his own attractive wife, yet desire other women? He supposed the answer was

familiarity, along with an urge for fresh territory, new conquests. just

the same, be thought guiltily, he should do something about sex with Ruth.

Perhaps tonight.