"No money to start," said Izzy. "Now downstairs," he glanced at his watch, "a Brinks Armored Truck will draw up in about ten minutes. It will take you home and you can have the guards transport your hundred thousand right back here and tomorrow morning we will be in business." He looked at Heller apologetically. "It won't make any huge fortune at first. But the exchange profits will pay all our monthly expenses and we can get down to serious moneymaking when we have these few essentials completed."

I thought, what a con artist!

Heller and Bang-Bang and Izzy went down and, despite rush hour and parking jams, there was the armored truck. They got in and it roared away.

A few minutes later, Heller took the hundred thousand out of his safe at the Gracious Palms. Izzy put it in a sack and away he and the armored truck went. Again, no receipt.

In the lobby, Bang-Bang said, "Hey, who am I working for—Tahiti or Delaware? I forgot. Jesus, I never seen such office setups in my life. And in the Empire State Building! We're big time, kid. Do I wear a tuxedo or a general's uniform?"

Vantagio came out. "Where's the bodies?"

"Jesus, Vantagio," said Bang-Bang. "You ought to see this kid's offices!"

"What offices?"

"Half a whole God (bleeped) floor of the Empire State Building!" said Bang-Bang.

Vantagio looked at Heller. "You got to keep Bang-Bang off the booze. He's getting the DTs. I came out to tell you Mike called and said your cab would be ready tomorrow. You better go over and get it, Bang-Bang."

"Can't," said Bang-Bang. "It's not Saturday night."

"Hey, what's this Saturday night?" said Heller.

"That's when the Civic Betterment League meets," said Vantagio. "All the top officials of the city. So there's not much of anything checked up on at that time. Bang-Bang, being on parole, wouldn't risk much if he was out of town a few hours."

"You mean everybody meets?" said Heller.

"Yeah, the heads of police and the mayor and so on. It's a bad thing for us, too. Faustino Narcotici presides and he hands out all the Mafia payoff dough at that time. It's worse on the first Saturday night of the month– the governor and state officials are there, too."

"Well, if it isn't Saturday night, I'll go over and get the cab myself," said Heller.

"Hell, no, you can't do that!" said Vantagio. "Don't you know nobody under eighteen is permitted to drive at all in New York City? That's why you got to have a driver. I'll send one of the boys over for it. But what's this about the Empire State Building?"

"Just a little sideline that came up," said Heller.

Possibly it was the way Heller said it. Too casual. But a little stirring of alarm began to rise. Suppose Izzy didn't steal his money?

In college, two cars, the Geological Survey and now this strange new development of the Empire State Building ... My wits simply would not mesh! Only one thing was loud: Heller was up to no good.

And I had not had the slightest word from the New York office concerning agents Raht and Terb. Heller had to be stopped! I couldn't figure out what he was doing but it had to be stopped anyway. The man was a howling menace! A private office with a view of all lower Manhattan indeed!

Chapter 3

Keeping the hours I kept due to time differences between New York and Turkey, I had fallen into the necessity of sleeping all morning. I was furious to find that old (bleepard) Karagoz standing beside my bed bowing and muttering. I stared at my watch. It was only eleven! I glared at him.

"Two men in yard, Sultan Bey." He waved his hands helplessly. "They come in. They sit down on bench. They refuse to go away."

"I'll make them go away!" I shouted. I grabbed a ten-gauge shotgun and sprang to the door.

"Sultan Bey!" shouted Karagoz. "You got no clothes on!"

I rushed out anyway. Nobody is going to tell me what to do!

Two men were sitting on a bench, sure enough. They were faced the other way. I leaped in front of them, levelling the gun.

It was Raht and Terb!

Raht's mustache stuck out even further in surprise.

Terb's swarthy, plump face went a bit white.

"What in the name of seventeen brindle Devils are you doing here?" I thundered at them.

Raht had the effrontery to put his finger to his lips to shush me.

Terb was trying to get back on the bench.

"Account for yourselves!" I thundered even louder.

Raht was making even more urgent finger motions and I abruptly realized I had been speaking Voltarian. But no matter. When the staff sees me coming, they vanish.

"We... we obeyed your order," stammered Raht. That was more like it. I had him stammering.

"You s ... s ... said," quavered Terb, '"Find them and force them to report in.'"

"We... we were sending radio messages every day and... and so we thought you could only mean to come here."

So the message was unclear. Leave it to subordinates to take advantage of you.

"You (bleeped) fools have been watching the bug that was sewn into his clothes. Somebody at the store threw them in the garbage when he bought new clothes!" I levelled the gun barrels at them. "He's not in the Atlantic! He's right in that UN whorehouse, the Gracious Palms, having the time of his life!"

Raht gaped. "How do you know that?"

Anger had caused me to be incautious. They must never know I had had Heller bugged on Voltar and was monitoring everything he saw or heard. "I have other sources of information. You think you are the only spies in the world? I got spies all over the place. Even spies on you!"

They seemed cowed so I herded them into the patio of the house. I made them stand there.

Then I went and put away the gun and got a robe and buzzed the kitchen for some hot kahve, served with lots of sugar, sekerli.

While I drank it, I got to thinking that maybe this wasn't too bad. I could brief them very exactly. I could also force them to take, no matter how many Voltarian codes it violated, a receiver and decoder.

I went back, drinking more kahve and keeping them standing. It gave me a certain satisfaction to realize they must have just come off a long plane ride and had had no sleep. It was also nice that it was a boiling hot Turkish September day and that they were probably dying for a cold drink. You have to keep such people in place—riffraff.

"You are not going to be executed," I said, to open the conversation and put them at ease. "Unless, of course, you keep fouling up."

They shifted about uneasily.

"The agent I have trailing you is a complete madman," I said. "But I think I can hold him in check."

Karagoz and a waiter came in with a silver pitcher of sira that was beaded with mist, and three glasses. I sent two of the glasses and the servants away and sat there sipping the cold drink.

So far, everything I had done was just textbook. But it made the rest easier.

"There is a platen," I said. "It is about so big." And I made a motion with my hands. "It is just a sheet with slots in it. Do you know what one is?"

"A platen code sheet," said Raht.

"You put it over a piece of paper and write the real message in the slots," said Terb. "And then you fill in the rest of the letter."

"Your target has one. We must get it!" I said. "Even if it costs you your lives." Also textbook. "It is somewhere in his baggage and that baggage is in the old Secretary General's suite on the top floor of the Gracious Palms. Do I make myself clear?"

They both nodded.

"You are to disguise yourselves as diplomats. You are to pretend to buy services. You are to go to that suite. The door is never locked. He is never there during the day. You are to ransack the place and find that platen! Understood?"

They nodded.

"One more thing. Another agent tried to plant a bug there. But there is some sort of interference, some carbon disturbance. You are to find that and disable it."


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