Dead money [antikvár]

1.i'd been at the wolf's lair til closing the night before. Not for any special reason. Just because. I dragged myself into the office. The place had a foggy, unnatural air. I sat down. The message light on my phone was blinking. It made my head hurt. I checked the voice mail, to make it go away. Nothing urgent. That was a relief. I deleted a few dozen e-mails. Maybe some of them were important. I couldn't really tell.The phone rang. Please hold for Mr. Warwick.Shit. Please hold for Mr. Warwick. The lard-ass can't dial four digits for himself. Has to delegate it.Redman.Yes, Charles.I heard an unsubstantiated rumor.They're the best kind.Someone resembling you was seen in the elevator this morning.Yes?At ten forty-five.Yes?In sneakers.Well, yes. I've got plantar fasciitis. Very painful. Something to do with tendons in the arches. Common in basketball players. Anyway, I change my shoes when I get to the office.Well, I don't doubt you, Redman. I really don't. Well then. But we've got to think of morale.Morale?Yes. Morale.All right then.All right?Yes. I'll think about it. Morale, that is.Good. Good. You think about that.