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He could be along any minute. You havent made any claim cm the insurance company? You will, of course, be in accord with leveling the hilltop property, Mr. Mason? I dont know. And I would venture to say that far more guilty people do not. Were on it, the man said, then hung up. He had communicated with Campbell about these latest developments and his meeting with Elaine Nestor, and arranged to meet with the man later. He was about to go up to his room when the phone rang. He didnt recognize the number but decided to answer it. What do you mean? Mason asked. Fred, I have inside information. The Yard of Ale is no longer being painted, and I have a reservation. The voice was friendly enough. I didnt worry about one of the bar denizens wanting to fight me. I heard it when I was just a few feet from my car. This neighborhood had been deserted for some time. Dirty words on walls and windows were so obvious you couldnt even dignify them with the term graffiti. Graffiti could be clever, even artful, at times. Fred shook his head.We hadnt heard from her in a while. When was it last, Ellen? No. I could see his hand when he dialed the number, but I couldnt see what number it was. It came over the radio about fifteen minutes ago. I was a little worried. I thought perhaps you might have tangled up with these people and—well, you know, evidently they were desperate. And stupid Hancock, after being nearly knocked off his feet by the falling MP5 guy, was spraying pistol shots indiscriminately, in a wide arc. That was fine if you had another shooter doing the same from a parallel position. Then the field of fire was overlapping and you got your target nine times out of ten. But the field of fire was not overlapping, and thus the man was screwed. Stone excused himself and went into the mens room. He looked at himself in the mirror: a little pale, he thought. He splashed some cold water on his face and neck, wiped it with a towel, took a few deep breaths, then went back to the table...