sweating. “And this lousy door couldn’t have been hung straight. No, they had to hang it so it swings open.”

“Whatcha gonna do now, Catell?”

“I’ll yank that desk over, to hold the door. Then I’ll try burning part of the flange so I can slip through the crack and get that contact. And it better be where they said it was. Else we could be burning around here all night.”

“How in hell you gonna get a desk without that door swinging open on you?”

“Yeah, how? I’ll stay close up to the door. You move out of the beam and get the desk. That’ll spell you, too. How’s that?”

“Fine. Aren’t ya gonna ask can I move my arm?” Cautiously Smiley got out of the way of the beam.

“One more thing, Smiley. If it clicks, jump and we open the safe as is. We’ll grab some lettuce and the hell with that door alarm. I figure we’re safe for about four minutes. O.K.?”

“O.K.”

No click.

Smiley got up, groaning, rubbing his arm.

“What time is it?” Catell asked.

“Eight-forty-five. Can you make it in time?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later Smiley had edged a desk up to the beam, and Catell, still leaning against the safe door, was getting down to the floor to pull the desk up close. Smiley was starting to maneuver the flashlight into line with the photoelectric cell.

“Tell me when,” Catell said.

“There’s a guy by the front windows,” Smiley said.

“Stay put. May be nothing.”

The shadow against the window moved away while the two men lay on the floor, immobile.

Then the side door opened. It opened fast and shut fast.

“Relax, Tony. Turtle speaking.”

“Stay where you are.”

It was dark enough in the large office so that distant objects were hard to make out.

“How much change in my pocket, that first day in the bar?”

“Ninety-eight cents.”

“O.K., Turtle, but don’t move. They got electric eyes up.”

“Tony, something’s up.”

Smiley’s hand with the flashlight made a short jitter.

“Topper didn’t show up, Tony. I waited four minutes, no car, no Topper.”

“What is this?” Smiley’s voice was shaky.

“You sure, Turtle?”

“Positive. Two blocks down, no car, four minutes late.”

“A frame! Smiley, move out of the beam and beat it. I’ll hold the safe till you get to the door. Go!”

In the silence of the dark room there was only the harsh breathing of Catell, leaning against the safe, and the sound of Smiley scraping across the floor where the other electric eye was.

They came in from all sides. Four of them burst through the front door, scattering behind desks and balustrades; four others swarmed through the side door, knocking the Turtle into the beam of the eye, stumbling over Smiley, who was still on the floor.

The alarm went off. The big bell over the front entrance started a dull rattle, getting sharper all the time. The wedge in the bell wasn’t holding. The men at the side door had grabbed Turtle and Smiley, and a voice from the front yelled, “Hands up and walk out slow. The whole place is sealed.”

Somebody flipped a switch, but the lights didn’t go on.

Catell rolled away from the safe into the shadows of the back, and the safe door swung open slowly. There was a moment’s complete silence as the light from inside the safe grew with the movement of the door. Then shots. Twice, four times.

“Cut it out, up front! We got two of them here.”

“Parker, that you?”

“Yessir. We got two here. Wait’ll we get the light.”

“They don’t work.”

“Down, everybody. Here comes the flashlight.”

One beam cut through the darkness, then two, three.

“Parker?”

“Yessir.”

“You and Litvinoff take the prisoners outside. Lobos, bring a flood through the side. Chester, you get one from the front. The rest stay down.”

They flooded the place with light, finding tools, Smiley’s cigarette stub, an empty suitcase, a desk moved out of place, and the safe open. Then they gathered outside to look at the prisoners.

“We got these two, and one from across the street.”

“Find anyone else inside?”

“Well, there were only supposed to be three.”

“Guess this is them.”

“What’s your name?”

“I wanna see my lawyer!”

“What’s yours?”

“Florence Nightingale.”

“Yours?”

“Catell.”

“Tessman, what was that name in the report?”

“Catell.”

“Guess that wraps it up. Take ‘em downtown. Parker, Lobos, you stay here. All right, boys, move it.”

At eleven o’clock that night, Catell moved slowly out of the storage room and back into the main office. Lobos sat up front, smoking in the dark. Parker sat by the desk at the side door, his head on his arms, snoring. The cold draft from the door woke Parker with a start,