Over."
Lansberg dropped his magazine. "He seems to be heading for the BigBoy--I hope."
The ground car followed him to a subway, and two men on foot followedhim in from Flatbush Avenue.
* * * * *
Some hours later, after much devious turning, dodging, and switching,Brittain climbed into a taxi on the corner of Park Avenue andForty-seventh Street, evidently feeling he had ditched any tails hemight have had.
Karnes and Lansberg were right behind him in a radio car.
The cab headed due south on Park Avenue, following it until it becameFourth, swung right at Tenth Street, past Grace Church, acrossBroadway. At Sixth, it angled left toward Greenwich Village.
"Somewhere in the Village, nickels to knotholes," Lansberg guessed ashe turned to follow.
Karnes, at the radio, was giving rapid-fire directions over thescrambler-equipped transceiver. By this time, several carloads ofagents and police were converging on the cab from every direction.From high above, could be heard the faint hum of 'copters.
Lansberg was exultant. "We've got them for once! And the goods onevery essobee in the place."
The cars hummed smoothly through the broad streets, past theshabby-genteel apartment neighborhood. Back in the early sixties, someof these buildings had been high-priced hotels, but the Village hadgone to pot since the seventies.
A few minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of an imposing lookingbuilding of slightly tarnished aluminum paneling. Brittain got out,paid his fare, and went inside.
As the cab pulled away, Karnes gave orders for it to be picked up afew blocks away, just in case.
The rest of the vehicles began to surround the building.
Karnes, meanwhile, followed Brittain into the foyer of the apartmenthotel. It was almost a mistake. Brittain hadn't gone in. Evidentlyattracted by the footsteps following him, he turned and looked backout. Karnes wasn't more than ten feet away.
_Just pretend you live here_, thought Karnes, _and bully-boy willnever know the difference_.
He walked right on up to the doorway, pretending not to noticeBrittain. Evidently, the saboteur was a little flustered, not quiteknowing who Karnes was. He, too, pretended that he had no suspicions.He pressed a buzzer on the panel to announce himself to a guest.Karnes noticed it was 523; a fifth floor button.
The front door, inside the foyer, was one of those gadgets with anelectric lock that doesn't open unless you either have a key to thebuilding or can get a friend who lives there to let you in.
When Karnes saw Brittain press the buzzer, he waited a second and tooka chance.
"Here," he said, fishing in his pocket, "I'll let you in." _That oughtto give him the impression I live here._
Brittain smiled fetchingly. "Thanks, but I--"
Bzzzz! The old-fashioned lock announced that it was open. Karnesstopped fishing and opened the door, letting Brittain follow him in.He stayed in the lead to the elevator, and pushed the button marked"4."
"You getting off before four?" he asked conversationally.
"No."
The elevator slid on up to four without another word being said byeither man.
Karnes was judging the speed of the elevator, estimating the time ittook for the doors to open as they did so, and making quick mentalcomparisons with his own ability to climb stairs at a run. Theelevator was an old one, and fairly slow--
When the doors slid open, he stepped out and began to walk easily downthe hall toward the stairway. When the elevator clicked shut, he brokeinto a run and hit the stairway at top speed, his long legs taking thesteps three at a time.
The stairway was poorly lit, since it was hardly ever used, and, atthe fifth floor, he was able to conceal himself in the darkness asBrittain turned up the hall toward 523.
Karnes looked closely at his surroundings for the first time. Therewas a well-worn, but not ragged, nylon carpet on the floor, dullchrome railing on the stair bannisters, and the halls were lit byold-fashioned glo-plates in the ceiling. The place was inexpensive,but not cheap.
Having made sure that Brittain actually had entered 523, he steppedback toward the elevator in order to notify Lansberg.
A sudden voice said: "You lookin' for-a somebody, meester?"
Karnes turned. An elderly man with a heavy mustache and a heavy bodystood partway up the stairs, clad in slacks and shirt.
"Who are you?" frowned Karnes.
"I'm Amati, the supratendent. Why?" The scowl was heavy.
Karnes couldn't take any chances. The man might be perfectly okay,but--
* * * * *
Lansberg's steps sounded, coming up the stairs. With him was aManhattan Squad officer of the Police Department.
"Shhh, Mr. Amati. C'mere a minute," said the cop.
"Oh. Lootenant Carnotti. Whatsa--"
"Shhhhhh! C'mere, I said, and be quiet!"
"You know this man?" Lansberg asked the policeman softly, indicatingAmati.
"Sure. He's okay."
Lansberg turned to the superintendent. "What do you know about the guywho just came in?"
Amati seemed to have realized that something serious was going on, forhis voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I dunno. I don't-a seewho it is. Whatsa goin' on, Lootenant Carnotti?"
"What about Apartment 523? Who lives there?" asked Karnes.
"Oh, them? Meester and Meeses Seigert. Artists. Sheesa paint pictures,heesa make statues." Then Amati's eyes widened knowingly. "Ohhh! Youguys da Vice Squad, eh? I _theenk_ theresa someteeng fonny aboutthem!"
Footsteps sounded coming down the stairs from above.
"We watched the indicator needle on the elevator door in the lobby,and I signalled the 'copters on the roof," Lansberg whispered.
The hallway began to fill quietly with police.
Lieutenant Carnotti assigned one of the men to watch Amati, mainly inorder to keep him out of the way, and Karnes led the men down the halltowards 523, guns drawn.
Karnes knocked boldly on the door.
"Yeah? Who is it?" asked someone inside.
Karnes pitched his voice a little lower than normal, and said: "It's-ame, Meester Amati, only me, the soopratendant."
The imitation wasn't perfect, but the muffling effect of the doorwould offset any imperfections.
"Oh, sure, Mr. Amati. Just a sec." There was a short pause, filledwith muffled conversation, then somebody was unlocking the door.
* * * * *
Things began to happen fast. As the door came open, Karnes saw that ithad one of those inside chain locks on it that permit the door to beopened only a few inches. Without hesitation, he threw his weightagainst the door. Lansberg was right behind him.
Under the combined weight of the two men, the chain ripped out of thewoodwork, permitting the door to swing free. As it did so, it slammedinto the face of the man who had opened it, knocking him backwards.
There were seven or eight other men and two women in the room. One ofthe men already had a heavy pistol out and was aiming it at thedoorway. Karnes dropped to the floor and fired just as the other'spistol went off.
The high-velocity three millimeter slug whined through the air aboveKarnes' head and buried itself in Lansberg's shoulder. Lansbergdropped, spun halfway around from the shock. His knees hit Karnes inthe back.
Karnes lurched forward a little, and regained his balance. Somethingflew out of his coat pocket and skittered across the floor. Karnesdidn't notice what it was until one of the men across the room pickedit up.
Brittain had picked up the mind impressor!
Karnes was aware that there were more men behind him firing at anotherof the conspirators who had made the mistake of drawing a weapon, buthe wasn't interested too much. He was watching Brittain.
It only took seconds, but to Karnes it seemed like long minutes.Brittain had evidently thought the impressor was a weapon when hepicked it up, and, after seeing his mistake, had started to throw itat the
door. Then the impressor shimmered slightly, as though therewere a hot radiator between the observor and the object. Brittainstopped, paralyzed, his eyes widening.
Then he gasped and threw the impressor against the floor as hard as hecould.
"_NO!_" he screamed, "_IT'S A LIE!_"
The impressor struck the floor and broke. From its shattered interiorcame a blinding multi-colored glare. Then there was darkness. Karnesfainted.
When Karnes awoke, one of the policemen was shaking him.
"Wake up, Mr. Karnes, wake up!"
Karnes sat up abruptly. "What happened?" He had no time to beoriginal.
"I don't know for sure. One of the Leaguers threw a gas bomb of somesort, and it knocked out everyone in the room. Funny, though, it evenknocked out all the Leaguers. When the rest of the boys came in,everybody was out cold on the floor. Most of them are coming