“Proceed,” was the reply.
The speaker was a man clad in black. He sat in the gloom of a dingy room. Only a faint light trickled through from a narrow courtyard outside the window. Opposite was a blank wall.
“Box delivered at five thirty,” said Burbank’s monotonous voice. “Information gained from the janitor.”
“Any description of the box?”
“Exact size not given. Evidently live stock. Box contained air holes.”
“Good. Do you go on duty immediately?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any report on Palermo?”
“Still absent.”
“Good. You are prepared?”