Final justice - W.E.B. Griffin [62]
Cars of this sort were genuine works of art, and as one would not entrust a Rodin sculpture or an Andy Warhol painting of a tomato can to the Acme Trucking Company, or even the United Parcel Service, one could not move, for example, a Grand Concourse-condition 1954 Mercedes-Benz 300SL "Gull Wing" coupe worth $275,000 to or from Las Vegas without taking the appropriate precautions.
Dragging such a motorcar along behind a car or truck on one of the clever devices available from U-Haul was obviously out of the question. So was loading such a vehicle on a flatbed trailer, chaining it in place, and covering it with a tarpaulin.
The solution was to ship such a vehicle within a trailer, and for a while Las Vegas Classic Motor Cars, Inc., had done just that. Then it had occurred to the partners that contracting for the transport, "direct, sole cargo" of vehicles, was costing them a lot of money. They crunched the numbers, and concluded the expense of buying and operating their own truck was justified.
They bought the Peterbilt, had a trailer specially modified-- essentially the installation of padding and means to hold the vehicles immobile while being transported--and hired a professional truck driver.
That had proved to be a disaster. The driver had hit something--he said--on the road, causing him to lose control, go into a ditch, and turn over. The devices installed to keep the 1939 Packard Le Baron bodied convertible in place had not been strong enough to hold the massive car when the trailer had turned over, and massive damage had resulted.
The partners had suspected that what had really happened--truck drivers like to "make miles"--was that the driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. The insurance company had similar suspicions, and although they had--finally--paid up, they had immediately informed the partners that their rates in the future would regrettably have to be raised significantly.
That was when the idea of Homer driving the rig had come up. For one thing, Homer had been an over-the-road tractor-trailer driver immediately after leaving the service. For another, Homer and his wife had finally had enough of each other, and it wouldn't be much of a hardship for him to spend a week or ten days away from Vegas.
And other benefits came to mind. If there was a motor vehicle in Saint Louis, say, of interest to Las Vegas Classic Motor Cars, Inc., and Homer was there--or near there--with the truck, he could both have a good look at it--without the cost of an airplane ticket to get there and back--make a recommendation to the partners, and if they decided to make the deal, just load the new acquisition on the truck right then and there.
And then there was the restoration business. Homer could look at a car someone wanted to have Las Vegas Classic Motor Cars, Inc., restore, quote the owner a price, and if a deal was struck, just load the car right then and there and haul it back to Vegas.
The original trailer, of course, was shot. They bought another, and really customized it. The new trailer was heated and air-conditioned, and would hold three cars, instead of two--five, if they were all Porsches, which happened several times. In addition, cabinets were built for tools, and there was what looked very much like an old-timey railroad sleeper compartment, which held a toilet, a bed, a shower, a tiny desk for Homer's computer, and a closet for Homer's clothes.
When Homer was trying to make a deal for, say, a 1940 Buick Limited spares-in-the-fenders convertible touring sedan worth, say, 150 large, he should look like a businessman, not a truck driver. And if he was going coast-to-coast--for that matter, anywhere overnight--and needed some sleep, he could just pull into a truck stop, go in the back, get a couple of hours of shut-eye, and then get back on the road without the hassle