The day's contribution to employee relations," he explained in a suddenly businesslike voice. "You're Bolan, eh?" he asked, with hardly a pause.

The visitor nodded. "Mack Bolan. I won't be in town long. Figured I better get this business settled."

Plasky fussed with a manila folder that lay unopened on his desk. It was good of you to contact us," he said. "Course-you understand our circumstances. Uh-we're an auditing firm. You understand that. The unfortunate -uh-circumstances-over at Triangle Industrial..."

"I won't be in town long," Bolan repeated. "I was told that you are temporarily in charge of the Triangle accounts."

"Wasn't that a terrible thing?" Plasky muttered. "Five good men-imagine that-some nut, some lunatic, and five good men-wiped out-just like that!" He snapped thick fingers in emphasis. "I-uh-I've got your father's book here, Mr. Bolan," he went on, in subdued tones. He flipped up the front cover of the manila folder, stared briefly at something inside, then closed it again. "Frankly, this account is in a mess. Your father is in serious arrears."

Bolan produced a small spiral notebook and tossed it onto the desk. "Not according to this," he said. "That's my father's record. He borrowed four hundred dollars eleven months ago. He has repaid five hundred and fifty. And I have reason to believe that other payments, not recorded in his book, have been made by other members of the family. Obviously your books are in error."

Plasky smiled blandly and spread his hands, palms up, on the desktop, ignoring Bolan's notebook. "Loan companies are not charitable institutions, Mr. Bolan, and let me assure you-we do not make errors in our books. Each account is double-audited, and-"

"He borrowed four, he repaid five-and-a-half. The debt should be paid."