Part 38 (1/2)

”Tom,” Malone said. ”What's wrong?”

”Oh, nothing,” Boyd said. ”Nothing at all. Everything's fine and dandy. I think I'm going to commit suicide, but don't let that bother you.”

”What happened?” Malone said.

Boyd stared at him. ”You happened,” he said. ”You and the teen-agers and the b.l.o.o.d.y d.a.m.n warehouse happened. Three days' work--ruined.”

Malone scratched his head, found out that his head still hurt and put his hand down again. ”What work?” he said.

”For three days,” Boyd said, ”I've been taking this blonde chick all over New York. Wining her. Dining her. Spending money as if I were Burris himself, instead of the common or garden variety of FBI agent.

Night clubs. Theaters. Bars. The works. Malone, we were getting along famously. It was wonderful.”

”And tonight--” Malone said.

”Tonight,” Boyd said, ”was supposed to be the night. The big night.

The payoff. We've got a date for dinner--T-bone steak, two inches thick, with mushrooms. At her apartment, Malone. She will probably--”

”You'll have to break it,” Malone said sympathetically. ”Too bad, but it can't be helped now. You can pick up a sandwich before you go.”

”A sandwich,” Boyd said with great dignity, ”is not my idea of something to eat.”

”Look, Tom--” Malone began.

”All right, all right,” Boyd said tiredly. ”Duty is duty. I'll go call her.”

”Fine,” Malone said. ”And meanwhile, I'll get us a little insurance.”

”Insurance?”

”John Henry Fernack,” Malone said, ”and his Safe and Loft Squad.”

12

The warehouse was locked up tight, all right, Malone thought. In the dim light that surrounded the neighborhood, it stood like a single stone block, alone near the waterfront. There were other buildings nearby, but they seemed smaller; the warehouse loomed over Malone and Boyd threateningly. They stood in a shadow-blacked alley just across the street, watching the big building nervously, studying it for weak points and escape areas.

Boyd whispered softly, ”Do you think they have a look-out?”

Malone's voice was equally low. ”We'll have to a.s.sume they've got at least one kid posted,” he said. ”But they can't be watching all the time. Remember, they can't do everything.”

”They don't have to,” Boyd said. ”They do quite enough for me. Do you realize that, right now, I could be--”

”Break it up,” Malone said. He took a small handset from his pocket and pressed the stud. ”Lynch?” he whispered.

A tinny voice came from the earpiece. ”Here, Malone.”

”Have you got them located yet?” Malone said.

”Not yet,” Lynch's voice replied. ”We're working on a triangulation now. Just hold on for a minute or so. I'll let you know as soon as we've got results.”