"No."
"Let me out and you will understand."
"Are you that crazy guy?"
"No, I am not crazy," the voice insisted. "I am Grandfather Frost. I am able to do amazing things. Remarkable things. Set me free, and you will see with your own eyes."
There was something about the voice-Randal Rumpp realized it was the same voice as before-that intrigued him.
"Amazing things, huh?"
"Yes," said the confident voice. Randal Rumpp was beginning to like this voice. Its smooth tone reminded him of his own.
"Listen, do you know who you are talking to?" he asked.
"No."
"I am Randal Tiberius Rumpp."
"I have heard of you," the voice said instantly. "You are very famous and very, very rich."
Rumpp smiled. "That's me. Impressed?"
"Very. You are exactly the man I have been seeking. You are powerful."
"Right. Good," said Randal Rumpp, growing bored with the conversation. He had the attention span of a flea. And suddenly, he got the idea that the weird voice was about to put the arm on him.
"Listen, pal," he said, his tone becoming brittle, "I have my own problems."
"Which I alone can solve."
"Is that so? Well, right now I'm in my office in the Rumpp Tower and the whole place has gone crazy. The people inside can't get out without falling into the ground. And nobody can touch this place. It's like Spook Central here. I'm inhabiting a haunted skyscraper. How are you going to help me with that?"
"It is not I who can solve your problem," the voice said.
"I thought so."
"You can solve your own problem."
"Yeah? How?"
"Set me free."
"How will that help me?"
"I am cause of problem," the voice said. "I am making your Tower like ghost. You set me free, and your building will return to normal once more."
"Why should I believe you?" asked Randal Rumpp.
"What have you to lose?"
"Okay, I'll bite. How do I set you free?"
"I do not know. I am trapped in telephone. Usually, I come out without any trouble. I think maybe you must pick up correct telephone receiver to release me."
"Do you have any idea how many individual phones there are in the Rumpp Tower, on this floor alone?" Rumpp said hotly.
"I do not care. One of them will release me. You must try, if you desire normalcy again."
Randal Rumpp slapped his hand over the receiver and muttered to his assistant, "This guy doesn't know what he's asking. Wants me to answer every phone in the building."
The secretary simply looked blank. The side of the conversation she was privy to wasn't exactly balanced. And Randal Rumpp was standing there in his monogrammed argyle socks and boxer shorts.
Rumpp pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "Okay. Tell you what. I'll give it a shot, see how far we can take it. No promises."
"Thank you."
"There's one other thing."
"Anything."
"A while ago, you said something about three billion."
"I did."
"I still want it."
"It is yours."
And the weird voice was so smooth and confident that Randal Rumpp, for a wild moment, actually believed it to be sincere.
"I'll be in touch," he said breezily.
"I will be here. In telephone."
Randal Rumpp hung up, and told his secretary, "Hold all my calls. Especially if that loser calls back."
"But . . . what about the promise you made to that man?"
"In my own sweet time. If that chump can un-jinx the Rumpp Tower, I don't want it to happen until after I close my deal with the mayor."
Randal Rumpp closed the door to his office.
His executive assistant stared at the oaken panel for several long moments. Her oval face was stone. Then, without a word, she moved out into the corridor. She began going from office to office, lifting every receiver and whispering "Hello?" into each one.
Chapter 13