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If you can't find them； then let them find you。 The word was out now in all the right places。 It would travel fast and far and someplace a decision would have to be made。 I was on a hunt for Sammy and Carl to throw a bullet through their guts and do the explaining afterward。 They'd start to sweat because there was plenty of precedent to go by。 I had put too many punks they knew under a gun for them to think I wouldn't do it and the only way to stop it would be to get me first。 They were the new cool breed； smart； polished and deadly； so full of confidence that they had a tendency to forget that there were others who could play the game even better。 Who was it that said； 〃Don't mess around with the old pros〃？
I finished straightening up the wreckage in the office； pulled a beer out of the cooler and sat down to enjoy it。 From the street I could hear the taxis hooting and thought about Velda。 She was a pro too and it would take a pretty sharp article to top her。 She knew the streets and she knew the people。 She wasn't about to expose herself and blow the whole job no matter how far into it she had gotten。 If the chips went down； she'd have that little rod in her hand； make herself a lousy target and take somebody down too。 At least in New York you heard about shootings。
I switched on the transistor radio she had given me and dialed the news station。 For ten minutes there was a political analysis of the new attitude the Russians had taken； seemingly agreeable to acting in harmony with U。S。 policy along certain peace efforts； then the announcer got into sports。 Halfway through there was a special bulletin rapped out in staccato voice telling the world that the hired killers of Tom…Tom Schneider had been located in a cheap hotel in Buffalo； New York； and police officers and F。B。I； troops had surrounded the building and were engaged in a gunfight； but refraining from a capture attempt because the pair had taken two maids as hostages。
Okay； Pat； there's your news blast for tomorrow。 Plenty of pictures and plenty of stories。 It would cover all news media in every edition and the little find at the Ashokan Reservoir would stay a one…column squib that nobody would notice and you had one more day without a panic。
There was a four…car wreck on the West Side highway。 A mental patient leaped from the roof of an East Side hospital； landed on a filled laundry cart and was unhurt。 No other shootings； though； and the regular musical program resumed。
All I could do was wait awhile。
At six thirty in the morning I woke up when my feet fell off the desk。 Daylight had crept into the office； lighting the eerie stillness of a building not yet awake。 There was a distant whine of the elevator； probably the servicemen ing in； a sound you never heard at any other hour。 I stood up； stretched to get the stiffness out of my shoulders and cursed when a little knife of pain shot across my side where the slug had scorched me。 Two blocks away a nice guy I knew who used to be a doctor before they lifted his license for practicing abortions would take care of that for me。 Maybe a tailor could fix my jacket。 Right now the spare I kept in the office would do me。
At eight fifteen I picked up the duplicate photo cards Cabin's Film Service had made up for me； mug shots of the guy they called Beaver with his risumi printed on the back。 A half hour later I was having coffee with Pat and gave him all but three of them。
He called me two dirty names and stuck them in his pocket。 〃And you said you wanted nothing to do with it；〃 he reminded me。
〃Sorry about that；〃 I said。
〃Yeah。 Professional curiosity？〃
〃Personal interest。〃
〃You're still out of line。 Regulations state you're supposed to represent a client。〃 He dunked a doughnut in his coffee and took a bite of half of it。
〃Be happy； friend。 I'm giving you no trouble； Fm paying for the snack and staying out of your way。 You should be glad citizens take an active interest in affairs like this。 Besides； you haven't got the time。〃
〃So why the photos？〃
〃You still have routine jobs going。 Pass them along to the plainclothes boys。 Maybe you got bigger things on your mind； but this is still an open murder。〃
〃For you it's not open。〃
〃I'm just throwing back the foul balls。〃
〃Mike；〃 he said； 〃you're full of shit。 Sometimes I wish I had never known you。〃
〃You worry too much； friend。〃
〃Maybe you should。 The days are going by fast。〃
I took a close look at his face。 The lines were deeper now； his eyes a lined red； and when he spoke it was almost without moving his lips。 Somehow he couldn't focus on me； seeming to look past me when he spoke。 〃Our Soviet friends have e up with another piece of information。 When we wouldn't let them out of the country they really began digging。 That strain of bacteria the former regime packaged and sent here was more virulent than even they suspected。 If it's loose there's no hope of containing it； none at all。 The lads at Fort Detrick confirmed it and if we don't get a break pretty damn quick it's all over； Mike； all over。〃
〃That doesn't sound like police information。〃
〃Crane broke down when he got the news。 I was there when he went hysterical and blew it。〃
〃How many others know this？〃 I asked him。
〃You're the eleventh。〃 He finished the doughnut and sipped at his coffee。 〃Kind of funny。 We sit here like nothing's happening at all。 We want a pickpocket in a red vest； I watch the teletype to see how they're doing in Buffalo with those contract hoods； everybody else is plugging through the daily grind and in a few days we'll all be part of the air pollution until nature figures a way out of it in a couple million years。〃
〃Man； you're a happy guy today。〃
Pat put the cup down and finally got his eyes fixed on mine。 〃Mike；〃 he said； 〃I'm beginning to figure you out。〃
〃Oh？〃
〃Yeah。 You're crazy。 Something's missing in your head。 Right now I could lay odds that all you're thinking about is a dame。〃
〃You'd lose；〃 I said。 I picked up the tab and stood up。 〃I'm thinking about two of them。〃
Pat shook his head disgustedly again。 〃Naked？〃
〃Naturally；〃 I said。
CHAPTER 9
Something had happened to the Broadway grapevine。 Nobody had seen Velda and although a half…dozen of the regular crowd were able to spot the red…vested Beaver by his photograph； nobody had seen him either。 Woody Bal…linger； Carl and Sammy were in the nothing pocket too and I was beginning to get those funny little looks like it was 〃Watch out； Mike； you're tangling with the trouble crowd now'' time。 Not that it was a new experience； but they were beginning to watch and wait； hoping to be there when the action started。
Some people liked car races。 You could see the big kill happen there too。 Others took it where they could find it； and now they were beginning to get a blood smell and watched the field leaders to see who was going to crowd who in the turn and wind up in pieces along the walls of Manhattan。 By noon the sunny day had turned overcast again； the smog reaching down with choking little fingers； and I had reached Lexington Avenue where I had another cup of coffee in