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rge For Sale sign on the front。
He studied the engine another minute； cursing it with energy and colour； just in case they had directional microphones trained on him。
Finally he slammed the hood and looked worriedly at his watch。 He stood indecisively for a moment。 Consulted his watch again。 He said； 'Shit。'
He walked back down the street in the direction he had e。 When he arrived at the used…car lot； he hesitated for effect； then walked directly to the sales office。
Gem Fittich Auto Sales operated under numerous crisscrossing stringers of yellow and white and red plastic pennants faded by a summer of sun。 In the breeze； they snapped like the flapping wings of a perpetually hovering flock of buzzards over more than thirty cars that ranged from good stock to steel carrion。
The office was in a small prefab building painted yellow with red trim。 Through the large picture window； Joe could see a man lounging in a spring…back chair； loafer…clad feet propped on a desk； watching a small television。
As he climbed the two steps and went through the open doorway； he heard a sportscaster doing colour mentary on a baseball game。
The building consisted of a single large room with a restroom in one corner； visible beyond the half…open door。 The two desks； the four chairs； and the bank of metal file cabinets were cheap； but everything was clean and neatly kept。
Joe had been hoping for dust； clutter； and a sense of quiet desperation。
The fortyish salesman was cheery…looking； sandy…haired； wearing tan cotton slacks and a yellow polo shirt。 He swung his feet off the desk； got up from his chair； and offered his hand。 'Howdy！ Didn't hear you drive up。 I'm Gem Fittich。'
Shaking his hand； Joe said； 'Joe Carpenter。 I need a car。'
'You came to the right place。' Fittich reached toward the portable television that stood on his desk。
'No； that's okay； leave it on；' Joe said。
'You're a fan； you might not want to see this one。 They're getting their butts kicked。'
Right now the transmission…repair shop next door blocked them from the surveillance team。 If the camper truck appeared across the street； however； as Joe more than half expected； and if directional microphones were trained on the big picture window； the audio from the baseball game might have to be turned up to foil the listeners。
Positioning himself so he could talk to Fittich and look past him to the sales lot and the street； Joe said； 'What's the cheapest set of wheels you've got ready to roll？'
'Once you consider my prices； you're going to realize you can get plenty of value without having to settle for…'
'Here's the deal；' Joe said； withdrawing packets of hundred dollar bills from a jacket pocket。 'Depending on how it performs on a test drive； I'll buy the cheapest car you have on the lot right now； one hundred percent cash money； no guarantee required。'
Fittich liked the look of the cash。 'Well； Joe； I've got this Suburu； she's a long road from the factory； but she's still got life in her。 No air…conditioning but radio and…'
'How much？'
'Well； now； I've done some work on her； have her tagged at twenty…one hundred fifty； but I'll let you have her for nineteen seventy…five。 She…'
Joe considered offering less； but every minute counted； and considering what he was going to ask of Fittich； he decided that he wasn't in a position to bargain。 He interrupted the salesman to say； 'I'll take it。'
After a disappointingly slow day in the iron…horse trade； Gem Fittich was clearly torn between pleasure at the prospect of a sale and uneasiness at the way in which they had arrived at terms。 He smelled trouble。 'You don't want to take a test drive？'
Putting two thousand in cash on Fittich's desk； Joe said； 'That is exactly what I want to do。 Alone。'
Across the street； a tall man appeared on foot； ing from the direction in which the camper truck was parked。 He stood in the shade of a bus…stop shelter。 If he'd sat on the shelter bench； his view of the sales office would have been hampered by the merchandise parked in front of it。
Alone？' Fittich asked； puzzled。
'You've got the whole purchase price there on the desk；' Joe said。 From his wallet； he withdrew his driver's license and handed it to Fittich。 'I see you have a Xerox。 Make a copy of my license。'
The guy at the bus…stop was wearing a short…sleeve shirt and slacks； and he wasn't carrying anything。 Therefore； he wasn't equipped with a high…power； long…range listening device； he was just keeping watch。
Fittich followed the direction of Joe's gaze and said； 'What trouble am I getting into here？'
Joe met the salesman's eyes。 'None。 You're clear。 You're just doing business。'
'Why's that fella at the bus stop interest you？'
'He doesn't。 He's just a guy。'
Fittich wasn't deceived。 'If what's actually happening here is a purchase； not just a test drive； then there're state forms we have to fill out； sales tax to be collected； legal procedures。'
'But it's just a test drive；' Joe said。
He checked his wristwatch。 He wasn't pretending to be worried about the hour now； he was genuinely concerned。
'All right； look； Mr。 Fittich； no more bullshit。 I don't have time。 This is going to be even better for you than a sale； because here's what's going to happen。 You take that money and stick it in the back of a desk drawer。 Nobody ever has to know I gave it to you。 I'll drive the Suburu to where I have to go； which is only someplace on the West Side。 I'd take my own car； but they've got a tracking device on it； and I don't want to be followed。 I'll abandon the Suburu in a safe area and call you by tomorrow to let you know where it is。 You bring it back； and all that's happened is you've rented your cheapest car for one day for two thousand Bucks tax free。 The worst that happens is I don't call。 You've still got the money…and a theft write…off。'
Fittich turned the driver's license over and over in his hand。 'Is somebody going to ask me why I'd let you make a test drive alone even with a copy of your license？'
'The guy looked honest to me；' Joe said； feeding Fittich the lines he could use。 'It was his picture on the license。 And I just couldn't leave； 'cause I expected a call from a hot prospect who came in earlier and might buy the best piece of iron I have on the lot。 Didn't want to risk missing that call。'
'You got it all figured out；' Fittich said。
His manner changed。 The easy…going； smiley…faced salesman was a chrysalis from which another Gem Fittich was emerging； a version with more angles and harder edges。
He stepped to the Xerox and switched it on。
Nevertheless； Joe sensed that Fittich had not yet made up his mind。 'The fact is； Mr。 Fittich； even if they e in here and ask you some questions； there's nothing they could do to you…and nothing they'd want to bother doing。'
'You in the drug trade？' Fittich asked bluntly。
'No。'
〃Cause I hate people who sell drugs。'
'I do too。'
'Ruining our kids； ruining what's left of our country。'
'I couldn't agree more。'
'Not that there is much left。' Fittich glanced through the window at the man at the bus