Hail Hibbler
Page 12
“It is also something of a shame,” continued Hildy, “that my stunning Dr. Hibbler seems to have put him back into a state of suspended animation again.”
“Yep, since he carries all the secrets of the death ray inside his cabeza,” Jake said. “Maybe that South American circus’ll hire him back.”
“He’s at a secret government research center someplace in Maryland. A large and dedicated staff is trying to get the old gent to awaken.”
“Too bad I was such a good shot with the death ray. He could be a handful of dust right now.”
“Not your style, Jake, you don’t kill people.”
He picked up the guitar, leaning back against the piano. “Looks like Amanda, because of all sorts of trust funds set up by her late mother, will do okay from now on even though the Tenn industrial empire is in the process of collapsing.”
“She did turn out to be very pretty without that silly nose,” remarked Hildy. “All that while you two were marooned in that tropical paradise did—”
The pixphone buzzed.
“I’ll get it.” Dropping his guitar on a floating sofa, Jake hurried over to the phone alcove. “Hello, Odd Jobs, Inc.”
“I’m completely cured, Jake,” announced little Harlow Titts. “I feel truly great. I don’t suspect everyone I see of being anxious to control my brain.”
“That’s certainly good news, Harlow.”
“Everyone here at CWS is very impressed by you, Jake,” said the PR man. “You really did a swell job of saving the world from destruction. People such as you, and your charming and heroic wife, are a credit to America.”
“I’m glad to hear CWS feels that way.”
Titts said, “Since I know you both, the execs have given me the job of inviting you to appear in the Blab! show.”
“Huh?”
“It’ll be the real Blab! show this time, hosted by the real Sleepy Joe Bryan,” explained the anxious Titts. “You and your wife will be the only guests. An hour of prime walltime to discuss the Adolph Hibbler mess and all its ramifications. You can also plug your detective agency somewhere during the sixty minutes, Jake. How about it?”
Jake was silent for several seconds. “I’ll get to you, Harlow.”
“Soon, please? We all want to have you on while you’re still hot.”
“Soon,” Jake promised and broke the connection. He glanced over at his wife. “What do you think?”
Hildy laughed.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1980 by Ron Goulart
Cover design by Erin Fitzsimmons
978-1-4532-5718-0
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