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'That urgent； huh？'
'I can't remember the last time I had a vacation。'
'Will do。 You know； Lieutenant； you're really okay。 No hard feelings； huh？ Business is business； you know？'
'Yeah。 Thanks for the vote of confidence。 I have a feeling I'm gonna need it。'
'Tell me something。' There was an edge to his voice now as if he had just woken up。 'How big is this thing？'
'What's it to you？'
'Huh！ I'm involved； ain't I？ Sure。 Right up to my armpits。 I just wanta know whether I'm standing in a pile of dogshit or …'
'I really can't say yet。 The jury's still out。 But it just could be。'
'Maybe I oughtta fade； then。'
'Strictly up to you。 Might not be such a bad idea。'
'Preciate it； Lieutenant。'
'I don't want my wells drying up。 Like a Texan that way。〃
Matty the Mouth laughed； a dry rasp like a metal file going over an unstripped log。 'Uh yeah！ What I am today I owe to you。'
'Just keep it up； Matty。 Just keep it up。'
Back in the car； he headed towards the office。 Finnigan； the fat mick； would not be at all happy to see him this morning。
Well； to hell with him。 Croaker braked savagely； jammed the heel of his hand against the horn rim； stood on the gas。 He only hoped that when he returned from Key West with Alix Logan in tow； the bastard would have a stroke。
If he could get her to talk。 Fear was a most effective weapon wielded by a knowing hand。 Unless he was severely mistaken； his little outburst in Tomkin's face had had its desired effect。 A dead issue had bee abruptly hot。 Now there would be a direct link between Alix Logan and Raphael Tomkin。 For a moment he debated bringing Vegas in on this。 It would； after all； be helpful to have someone here to round up whoever it was who was nosing around； while he was down in Key West。 But he dismissed it almost at once。 It wasn't fair to drop such a heavy bag of shit in Vegas's lap。 No； he'd just have to look after both ends himself。 Timing。 He'd need timing。
And a good deal of luck。
'I saw Justine off yesterday；' Nicholas said。 'I asked her to go back out to West Bay Bridge until this is all over。'
Croaker slammed the door to his car； came around to the front where Nicholas was standing。 'Good idea。 I asked Gelda to stay with a friend of hers or something。 I just wanted her out
of the apartment for a while。'
Above them the tower on Park Avenue rose； half…skeletal； half…fleshed； so that it looked like an artist's cross section。
'He up there？' Croaker asked； indicating the building。
'He should be。 I cleared all of this with him first。' They began to walk across the wooden planks over the unfinished sidewalk。 'He's got guts；…you've got to give him that。'
'Huh。 I don't have to give him nothing。 If he's agreed to it； five'll getcha ten he's got some angle figured。'
'Sure。 Like getting Saigo off his back。 Do you think he wants to be hounded？〃
Croaker gave him a sideways grin at that。 'Naw。 I don't think anyone wants that。 Not even him。' They got into the elevator。
'Where are the men？'
'ing in' … he consulted his watch … 'just about fifty minutes from now。 All TPF … Tactical Police Force to you civilians。 We've got the works this time： tear…gas； submachine…guns； even a pair of super…snipers with infrared …scopes。 Hit a dime at a thousand yards in the dark。 And； of course； all the mea…will be wearing bullet…proof vests … they've all been cleared for hand…to…hand； by the way。' The doors opened on the top floor and they stepped out。 Tomkin had just better behave himself。'
'Listen； you leave Tomkin to me； okay？ Just stay away。 He only baits you because he's scared of you。'
'Yeah？' Croaker grinned again。 'Now that's the kind of thing I like to hear。'
Just before they got to the doors of Tomkin's office Nicholas stopped them。 'Remember；' he said； 'I don't want any of your men on this floor。 Not for any reason； is that clear？ If Saigo gets by them； they are to stay put。 I don't want any of them getting in my way。 This floor has got to be clear。'
'No sweat。 Not that I like it too much but this is his building and you're calling the shots。 Seeing as how I didn't do too well two nights ago。 I think I can swallow this。 Only' … he lifted a forefinger in warning … 'don't expect me to stay down there with them。 If he gets away； I'll be up here with you。'
Nicholas nodded。 'As long as you e up via the route we mapped out together。 Don't take any unexpected detours。'
'I wish I knew what you had cooked up for this guy。'
'Believe me； it's much better that no one else knows。 It's going to e down to him and me； anyway。'
'But all you have is that。'
Nicholas hefted his scabbarded katana。 'That；' he said； 'is all I am going to need。' He pushed open the door and they went into the great corner office。
Tomkin； seated as usual behind his enormous desk； looked up； frowning。 'Can you believe it？' he growled。 'A goddamned garbage strike。 And in the middle of the summer。 Christ； those union bastards know how to get blood out of a stone。 This place is gonna stink to high heaven before it's even finished。'
The old man stood on the west side of Park Avenue。 Although there was little traffic this late at night； he nonetheless waited for the traffic light on the corner to change in his favour。 When at length it did； he started slowly across the wide avenue。 He seemed a frail figure from a distance； stooped under the weight of the duffel bag he carried slung over his rounded back。 He had splay feet and his bamboo cane aided his slow passage。 Because Park Avenue is divided by a rather wide concrete median； he could not make it across on one light。
Standing still on the strip； he looked quizzically about him as a grandfather might； caught dozing in his favourite chair during the day。 His head was slow moving and it was some time before his gaze took in the half…finished building on the east side of the avenue。 By that time； anyone who might be watching him； even casually； would not have thought it strange that he contemplated the structure for the remaining time until the light returned to green and he made his limping way across the street。
Instead of turning right； he went straight on； due east； towards Lexington Avenue。 Once there； he turned south to the end of the block。 He had now made a half…circuit along the perimeter of the tower。
There was an old…style phone booth on the corner。 One of those with green metal and glass walls all the way down to the pavement。 Beside it were black and tan polythene bags of garbage awaiting pickup。 He put this makeshift screen between him and the tower as if he were about to head further east。
Now he was in dense shadow and he stood perfectly still； having first altered his image： the duffel bag was at his feet and he stood straight； his shoulders squared。 The bamboo cane lay in the gutter； out of sight of even the sparse traffic along Lexington。 He was invisible to anyone within the building's periphery。
He waited twenty minutes。
Without bending； he unzipped the duffel bag and worked with deft； economical movements。 When he emerged from his cover； he appeared to be a spare； dapper businessman in a conservative suit and a pork…pie hat。 As。 American as apple pie。 He remembere