"You aren't going to try to get one of the slaves out, are you? You told Siggen that you only wanted to get in, and get out again."
"That's all I want."
"It you're trying to close the 'door,' what would you want in...." Abruptly Groves stopped talking. Ostby read the dismay in his voice as he realized that he had said too much.
Ostby rolled over on his side, bringing his gun up and firing in the same motion. Groves had his own gun drawn when the slug caught him in the forehead and slapped his head back as though riding the blow of a fist. Slowly he fell sideways along the wall.
Ostby was on his feet immediately. He'd have to move fast now, he knew. No one but the police, or someone high in the Imperator's confidence, would know that he was here to close the "door" between the worlds. Groves had made a bad slip.
In Groves' right rear pocket Ostby found a black billfold. Inside was a white card with the word, Confidential, written on it. He found nothing else of interest. But that was enough to wipe away Ostby's last doubt. Sweat broke out anew on his forehead as he realized how close the trap had come to closing around him. He might be too late already.
On the other hand, he reflected, perhaps this would be the moment when boldness would accomplish more than it ever could have in the past. He had been able to get nowhere in the past months with caution, and this time, being so close, he would not turn back.
III
Ostby entered the Stalls through a back door. The building was built on a hill. At the front, the first floor was on the ground level. But the door Ostby entered opened into the sub-basement.