CHAPTER SIX
Steve Paul knocked at the office door, trying to contain his anxiety as he waited for the answering, "yeah?"
"Jay," he called through the door, "it's Steve. Could I see you a minute?"
Jay Snyder mumbled under his breath. Interruptions, he said to himself. Always these God damned interruptions. "Not now, Steve," he said. "I'm busy as hell."
Not too busy for this, Steve thought. "Jay," he said, "it's pretty important."
Snyder sighed. Something like this always happened when he was doing his most enjoyable work, which consisted of thumbing through photos of naked girls, trying to decide which ones might be better suited for prostitution. "Personnel management," Snyder called it, although in other circles it would be called something different, "white slavery" for instance.
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