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Downtown areas of Charlotte, NC, and Richmond, Va., lost electrical power this week, causing injury and panic.

According to Baltimore Power & Light, the cause of the Maryland power failure also was faulty equipment.

“It is an unfortunate coincidence,” said Carl Hemple, BP&L Director of Public Relations. “This particular power grid happened to have the same equipment—indeed the same series of manufacture—as the others that went down. It appears that all of the grids were weakened by what we all know has been a worse than usual winter season. It’s just that simple.”

Agents from the Federal Bureau of In vestigation, who had been looking into the event in North Carolina and Virginia, and now are reviewing this one in Maryland, agreed.

“The fact is that it is similar equipment failing under similar conditions,”said Special Agent Mark Davis of F.B.I. headquarters here in Washington. “All grids are being inspected, and any weak nesses found are being corrected.”

That explanation, Representative Rippy said, was not good enough.

“Hundreds upon hundreds have been hurt,” he said. “First it was the train stations. Now this. Who and what is next?”

Maryland Governor Harold Clarke called on citizens to remain calm.

“Let’s all exercise good judgment,” he said from his office in the capitol. “And please join me and pray for those injured in this unfortunate event.”

* * *

Grossman handed the newspaper back to Cremer and said, “The cover story of the government is good. But it does not seem to be believed.”

Cremer nodded. “Possibly. But the good news is that the public is reacting just as we had hoped. Bayer and Koch are doing a good job. Steady, small attacks. Let the people cause their own problems.” He looked directly at Grossman. “That’s what we need to do, too. No more big blasts.”

Grossman glared back.

“Okay,” he said. “Enough. I told you that it was a mistake to use so much explosive in the Atlanta train station lockers.”

He looked at the coffee table, where there were two identical sets of explosives and primers laid out.

“These should be just enough to cause the necessary confusion,” he said.

Cremer nodded, then looked at his watch. He put aside the newspaper.

“Okay. It’s close enough to time. Let’s go.”

Grossman went to the table, picked up one set of the explosives, and put it in a small black leather case.

They took one of the five massive elevators down to the first floor, then crossed the richly carpeted lobby and went down the steps to the entrance.

A doorman opened one of the large beveled-glass-and-bronze doors, tipped his hat, and said, “Good day, gentlemen,” as they passed onto the busy sidewalk.

They walked up Commerce Street, keeping pace with the crowd of businessmen and secretaries who appeared to have just left their offices.

Ahead of them, a couple of men in suits and ties went through the revolving door of the fancy bar and grill that was a part of the Adolphus. The bar had large, inviting windows overlooking the sidewalk. Cremer looked inside as they passed and watched the two men who had just entered join an animated crowd of businessmen and -women standing at the long, classy brass bar for Friday happy hour.

At the street corner, after waiting for the light to change, Cremer and Grossman crossed Akard Street—dodging an automobile running the red light—and continued along Commerce.

About halfway up the block, a series of department store windows began. The goods in the large displays looked very much like what they had seen all week on guests at the hotel—very fine and expensive clothing and jewelry.

Alm

ost at the end of the block, they came to a large elaborate entrance into the department store itself.

Grossman glanced at Cremer, who nodded, and they followed four attractive young women through the doors under shiny metalwork that read: NEIMAN MARCUS.

Inside, Cremer followed one of the women—a blonde—to the right while Grossman continued straight, behind two brunettes.

The store was full of customers, mostly women, but more than a few men. An off-duty Dallas policeman, in uniform and armed, working as store security, was riding the escalator to the second floor, scanning the first-floor crowd as he ascended, and then was gone.