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Youre in bed already? Dino asked. He leapt into the air and landed on the motorcycle; a push of a button brought it to life. He shook his head.No, not even close. Ballistic experts say it did. Yes, sir. Mason heard the voice of a taxicab dispatcher droning off directions.Cab three-twenty-eight to the Brown Derby in Hollywood, a Mr. Culber... Come in, two-fourteen... come in, two-fourteen... A mans gruff voice said, “Cab two-fourteen on a call to eighty-one hundred block on South Figueroa... Thus the exit from the one organization where he had felt he truly belonged. Got it. I went through a screen door into a small foyer whose only furnishing was a stolen supermarket cart with a missing wheel. There was a row of six mailboxes with locks, but most of them had been pried open at one time or another. The mailboxes had small spaces for the names of the buildings tenants. Four of the spaces were filled in; two werent. In the space for number six, which supposedly was Quanes, someone had printed in Johnson. Mason reached for the phone.Ill take it, Paul. Wheres cab seven-sixty-one? Devine picked up Hancocks gun and thrust it into his waist-band, while the man lay on the floor moaning and holding his destroyed knee. Devine glanced over at Cowl, who was staring in disbelief at him. She wanted to but he could help her get financial aid for grad school. I think it was his secretary. The notebook Devine was using was full of scribbles, notes, and thought balloons that had resulted in calculations, lists of entities, dollar and foreign-currency amounts, along with dates of transactions and other data. And lots and lots of question marks. You cant tell anybody. He looked at his men.Take him but dont charge him. Not yet. Unless, dear boy, the strikes were all Arch Mixs idea in the first place...