Arthur Hailey - Overload

As if reading his mind, Harry London offered, "Things ain't always what they seem." He turned the car away from the shopping area toward a gas station and garage complex which included a tunnel-type car wash. London stopped at the gas station office and got out. Nim followed.

A GSP & L service truck was also parked. "We've called for one of our photographers," London said. "Meanwhile the service guy is guarding the evidence."

A man in gray coveralls walked towards them, wiping his hinds on a rag. He had a spindly body, a fox-like face, and appeared worried. "Listen," he said, "like I told you already, I don't know nothing about no..."

"Yes, sir; so you did." London turned to Nim. "This is Mr. Jackson.

He gave us permission to enter his premises to inspect the meters."

"Now I'm not so sure I should've," Jackson grumbled. "Anyways I'm just the lessee here. It's another outfit owns the building."

"But you own the business," London said. "And the gas and electric accounts are in your name. Right?"

“The way things are, the bank owns the goddam business."

"But the bank didn't interfere with your gas and electric meters."

"I'm tellin' the truth." the garageman's hands clutched the rag more tightly. "I dunno who done it."

"Yes, sir. Do you mind if we go in?"

The garageman scowled but didn't stop them. London preceded Nim into the gas station office, then to a small room beyond, clearly used for storage. On the far wall were switches, circuit breakers, and meters for gas and electricity. A young man in GSP & L service uniform looked up as they came in. He said casually,

"Hi"

Harry London introduced Nim, then instructed, "Tell Mr. Goldman what you found."

"Well, the electric meter had the seal broken and was put in the way it is now-upside down."

"Which makes the meter run backwards or stop," London added.

Nim nodded, well aware of that simple but effective way to get free power. First, the seal on a meter was pried open carefully. After that, the meter-which was simply plugged in to slots behind it-could be lifted out, inverted, and replaced. From then on, as electricity was consumed, the meter would either reverse itself or stop entirely-if the first, the record of consumption would diminish instead of increasing as it should. Later-probably a few days before a power company meter reader was expected-the meter would be restored to normal functioning, "with the disturbance of the seal carefully concealed.

Several power companies which had suffered this kind of theft countered it nowadays by installing newer-type meters which operated correctly whether upside down or not. Another prevention method was through elaborate locking rings which made meters non-removable, except with special keys. However, other ingenious ways of power theft existed; also there were still millions of older-type meters in use that could not accommodate locking rings, and they would cost a fortune to replace. Thus, through sheer numbers, plus the impossibility of inspecting all meters regularly, the cheaters held an advantage.

“The job on gas was fancier," the serviceman said. He moved to a gas meter nearby and knelt beside it. "Take a look here."

Nim watched as, with one hand, the serviceman traced a pipe which emerged from a wall, then connected to the meter several feet away. "This is the gas line coming in from outside."

"From the street," Harry London added. "From the company main."

Nim nodded.

"Over here"-the serviceman's hand moved to the far side of the meter-"is a line to the customer's outlets. They use gas here for a big water heater, hot-air car dryers and for the stove and heater in an apartment upstairs. Every month that's a lot of gas. Now look at this closely." This time, using both bands, he fingered what appeared to be pipe joints where the two pipes he had pointed to disappeared into the wall. Around each the cement had been loosened, some of it now in a small pile on the floor.

"I did that," the serviceman volunteered, "to get a better look, and what you can see now is that those aren't ordinary joints. 'they're T-joints, connected to each other by another pipe, buried out of sight inside the wall."

"An old-fashioned cheater's bypass," London said, "though this is the neatest one I've seen. What happens is that most of the gas used doesn't pass through the meter the way it should, but goes directly from the street to the appliances."

“There's enough still goes through the meter to keep it operating," the young serviceman explained. "But gas flows where there's least resistance.

There's some resistance in the meter, so most gas goes through that extra pipe-the freebie route."

"Not anymore," London pronounced.

A pert young woman carrying cameras and equipment came in from outside. She inquired cheerfully, "Somebody here want pictures?"

"Sure do." London indicated the gas meter. "That setup first." He told Nim,

"When we get a shot the way it is, we'll chip out the rest of the cement and expose the illegal pipe."

The fox-faced garageman had been hovering in the rear. He protested, "Hey, you guys can't break up no wall. This's my place."

"I'll remind you, Mr. Jackson, you gave us permission to come in and check on our company's equipment. But if you want to review your rights, and ours, I suggest you call your lawyer. I think you'll need one, anyway.

“I don't need no lawyer."

"That will be up to you, sir."

"Mr. Jackson," Nim said, "don't you realize the seriousness of all this?

Tampering with meters is a criminal offense, and the photos we are taking can be evidence."

"Oh, there'll be criminal prosecution all right," London said, as if on cue. "Though I will say that if Mr. Jackson co-operates in two ways it might work out in his favor."

The garageman looked at them suspiciously. "What ways?"

As they talked, the photographer clicked away, shooting flash pictures of the gas meter, then moving to the electric one. Ile serviceman began loosening more cement, exposing more of the concealed pipe within the wall.

“The first thing you have to do," London told Jackson, "is pay for what you owe and what you stole. Since I was here the first time, I've been in touch with our Billing Department. Comparing recent bills with what your gas and electric charges used to be, they've come up with five thousand dollars owing. That includes a service charge for what we're doing today."

The garageman paled; his mouth worked nervously. "Jesus! It can't be that much. Why, it's only been . . ." He stopped.

"Yes," Nim prompted. "How long has it been since you began tampering with the meters?"

"If Mr. Jackson tells us that," London joined in, "maybe he'd tell us who did the job on the gas meter. That's the second thing we'd look on as co-operation."

The serviceman called over his shoulder, "I'll tell you one thing for sure.

Whoever did it was no amateur."

London glanced at Nim. "Remember what I told you? A lot of what we're seeing is professional work." He returned to Jackson. "How about that, sir? Feel like telling us who did it?"

The garageman scowled, but didn't answer. London told him, "When we've finished here, Mr. Jackson, we'll be disconnecting your gas and electricity. They'll stay disconnected until the amount owing is paid."

Jackson spluttered, “Then how the hell do I run my business?"

"If it comes to that," London retorted, "how would we run ours if every customer was a cheat like you?" He asked Nim, "Seen enough?"

"Too much," Nim said. "Let's go."

Outside, London said, "Ten will get you one, he's in hock too deep to pay what's owing. Doubt if he'll tell us who did the work either."

As they got into the car, Nim asked, "Can we prosecute and make it stick?"

The ex-policeman shook his head. "I'd like to try, and we might even get a conviction. More likely, though, a court would insist we prove either that Jackson did the meter rigging, or knew about it. No way we can."