Dale Alkirk grabbed wads of maps and timetables off the shelves and slammed them on the table. Map after map he opened up and ran his finger over while tapping his mouth with a pen. "Hm. Hmmmm. Uh uh. Hm." Simon wanted to help his boss but refrained from getting in the way. An abacus might as well try to assist a supercomputer.
"No . . . no . . . maybe . . . is it? Yes! This is it!" Dale ground his finger into the map and poked straight through. "Make a note to replace that. Not now, though. We have to move. I figured out how Hollis plans to move the stuff. He's using the Grant-Chifton line."
Simon gasped. Dale nodded. "That's right. Who does anything by train in the year 2832? That's exactly what Hollis is counting on. He knows the police won't look into that. They probably don't know trains still run."
"I sure didn't, boss. Why do they? It doesn't seem like it could possibly make financial sense."
"It doesn't, Simon, but to this day there are always a few unreasonably rich men who get very interested in trains. Very, very interested. Very, very, very interested. Very, very, very, very, very, very . . ."
Finis
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