Does she know what she s getting into with us?

I ve told Roper to brief her on everything including you two and your rather murky pasts.

You re so kind, Holley said. It s a real privilege to know you.

Oh, shut up, Ferguson told him. Miller is very impressed with her, and I m happy about the whole thing.

Well, we re happy if you re happy, Dillon told him.

We ve got to go now. Why don t you two clear off and do something useful. I ll see you tonight.

Dillon walked away through the downpour, the nightstick in his right hand. He turned left into an alley and Holley waited for a few moments, then took from his pocket a crumpled Burberry rain hat in which a spring clip held a Colt. 25. He eased it onto his head, got out of the truck, and walked quickly through the rain.

Dressed as he was as a beat cop, Dillon didn t need to show any particular caution, tried a door, which opened to his touch, and passed into a decaying kitchen, a broken sink in one corner, cupboards on the peeling walls, and a half-open door that indicated a toilet.

Holy Mother of God, he said softly. Whatever s going on here, there can t be money in it.

He opened the far door, discovered a corridor dimly lit by a single lightbulb, and heard voices somewhere ahead. He started forward, still grasping the nightstick in his right hand, his left clutching a Walther PPK with a Carswell silencer in the capacious pocket of his storm coat.

The voices were raised now as if in argument and someone said,

Well, I think you re a damn liar, so you d better tell me the truth quickly, mister, or Ivan here will be breaking your right arm. You won t be able to swim very far in the sewer after that, I m afraid.