"Hurry!" Planter cried. "Get through this window!"
Max dove through while the writer yanked him by the elbows. Max was shivering and sweating at the same time. But the cool night breeze helped a little.
"W-where in the billy-hell did you—"
"Come from?" Ric finished. "Been on Starr's trail for weeks. Had this thing figured out for some time, even before you tipped me off on the phone that day. I followed Starr here. Been watching and waiting."
He was wearing a fish-basket and, incongruously, it was filled with bombs. He handed some to Max.
"Start heaving. Aim for the kitchen door before they close it."
He tossed a handful of the bombs into the room. Max followed suit. Inside, the bombs broke, letting out a pungent gas.
"What is it?"
"Insecticide," Ric grinned. "More potent than DDT. Those outlines Starr made out furnished the clews. It should do it."
"Won't they get out the kitchen door?"