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Richard B Bernstein's Journal:
The phone calls started after Wulfgar left. Some piece of human excrement would call, and hang up when I answered. The Phone Company, the Police, neither of them could help.
"We're sorry, Professor" one of Bell's drones said "but the calls are untraceable."
"But you're the phone company, goddammit."
"I'M sorry, sir, but you do not need to curse at me."
I struggled to regain my composure. "I sincerely apologize, but, how can you tell me that these are untraceable?"
"There's some pretty sophisticated technology involved in that sort of thing."
"And that doesn't concern you?"
"Not my department, I'm afraid, sorry."
I contemplated shooting my phone, then remembered that my Glock, Mehitabel, was long gone.
I hung up instead.
I missed that gun...
(TBC)
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