Duran sensed anger surging up as he remembered the times when, as District Attorney, Sig Loeffler had openly snubbed him. That, of course, had been back in the days when Duran had been a junior partner in one of the city's smaller law firms. He had not forgiven Loeffler, nor had Loeffler given him any reason to do so. Only the Governor's back-slapping mediation had allowed them to reach a politically stable relationship. The relationship did not involve Duran's compliance with the man's whims, however. "Get him on the phone, Jack," Duran said at last. "But just make one call. If he's not at his office, forget it." In less than a minute Woodvale was turning around to say: "He's in, sir. You want to talk to him?" Duran grunted and lifted the phone from the clamp beside his seat. "Senator Duran speaking," he said. "Vance, this is Loeffler," boomed a voice in considerable contrast to the senator's own mild tone. "Something pretty fantastic has happened. We're trying to keep it quiet, at least until we decide on what action to take. But if you can make it over here some time this evening, I'll tell you the story. You're going to be in on it eventually, and I thought you'd prefer getting in on it early." Duran had intended quite bluntly to explain that he had more important business. But there was something compelling about the man's apparently ingenuous urgency that caused the senator to change his mind. "Okay, Loeffler. I'll be right over." He broke the contact and told Woodvale to dial his home number. "Ernie, this is Dad," he said at the sound of his younger son's voice. "Tell Mother I'm going to stop off at the Attorney General's office--that's right--but that I'll be home in plenty of time to get ready for the dinner. Got that? That's right. How's school? Something wrong? Okay, son, I'll see you later." Ernie had said that everything was all right, but with an uneasiness in the way he spoke. Grades, maybe, Duran thought. The boy had been doing pretty well, almost as well as Roger, but was showing the inevitable adolescent ramifications of interest. Duran found himself musing briefly upon his own youthful extra-curricular forays up the tree of knowledge and sighed. "Go to the capitol building, Jack," he said. "Which port should I use, sir?" the younger man asked. "The official one," Duran told him. This was Loeffler's idea. * * * * * The senator was surprised to find one of the Attorney General's harried-looking secretaries working late. She glanced up from her typewriter and gave him an equivocal smile of recognition. "He's expecting you, Mr. Senator," she said, nodding toward the inner office. "Go right in." Sigmund Loeffler was not alone. But the two other visitors were paled by the aura of importance which emanated from the large black-haired man behind the desk. He rose grandly at Duran's entrance, and without bothering to shake hands proceeded with introductions.