New York [AP], August 23. Judge James Lefkowitz of the New York Supreme Court ruled today that the International Truckers’ Brotherhood had no grounds for their suit against the United Transport Corp. and its officers. The action, a bitterly fought contest, involved a complaint by the Brotherhood that UTC had violated their contract with the Brotherhood by hiring “unqualified drivers” to work for the corporation. In a statement made immediately after the ruling, Judge Lefkowitz said: “It is obvious that a man with a state-certified chauffeur’s license is not an ‘unqualified driver.’” Effects of this ruling are thought to be far-reaching. Comment from the international Truckers’ Brotherhood.... There was more to it, a lot more, but Malone didn’t feel like reading it. It sounded just as confused as he expected news to sound these days, but it also sounded a little dull. He could feel Lou’s breathing against his ear as he read, and he lost interest in the paper almost at once. “My, my,” she said. “And I expected a real exposé of a story, after that headline.” “This is an exposé,” Malone said. “But I’m not sure what of.” “It sounds pretty confused,” Lou said. “Everything seems to, these days,” Malone said. “Including any story of what’s been happening during the last little while.” “Agreed,” Lou said. “Without argument.” “Listen,” Malone said suddenly. “Would it help if I went up and told Sir Lewis that there’s no mark against your record?” “Mark?” Lou said. “Against my record?” “Well,” Malone said, “I mean—well, he isn’t the sort of man who’d fire somebody, because of—because of something like this?” “You mean because I know an FBI man?” Lou said. “I—” “Never mind,” she said. “I know what you mean. And he won’t. He’ll understand.” She came round to face him, and patted his cheek. “Thanks,” she said. “Thanks a lot, anyway.” “If there’s anything I can do—” “There won’t be,” Lou said. “You’ll call me, though, about tonight?” “Sure I will,” Malone said. He hoped that the tentative date he’d made with her for that evening wouldn’t be broken up because of a sudden onslaught of work. “I’ll let you know before five, for sure.” “Fine,” Lou said. “I’ll wait to hear from you.” She turned to walk away. “Hey,” Malone said. “Wait a minute.” “What?” she said, turning again. Malone looked judicious. “I think,” he said weightily, “that, considering all the fun we’ve had, and all the adventuring and everything else, the least you could do would be to kiss me goodbye.” “On Fifth Avenue?” “No,” Malone said. He tapped his lips. “Here.” She laughed, bent closer and pecked him on the cheek. Then, before he could say anything else, she was gone. 10 On the way to FBI Headquarters on 69th Street, he read the _Post_ a little more carefully. The judge and his union suit weren’t the only things that were fouled up, he saw. Things were getting pretty bad all over.