"The police called and claimed someone reported seeing, from the air, three helicopters being stolen from our roof."
"Did she say that?" asked Westervelt.
"She had the sense to write it down and show me while they were talking about submarines. Something about the way she winked made me think I'd better come out, so I told the boys I was going down the hall a minute."
Westervelt heaved a sigh. He would not have to be alert to duck an aroused Lydman charging down the corridor.
"Then, Mr. Smith," he suggested, "let's walk down that way in case someone comes out and sees us, and I'll tell you all about it."
"They shouldn't be out for a while," Smith commented, examining the youth doubtfully. "I started a little argument before I came out."
Nevertheless, he followed Westervelt around the far corner, to the wing leading to the laboratory and rest rooms. They had gone perhaps ten feet past the corner when Westervelt finished the report on the elevators and came to the frozen locks on the stairway door.
Smith stopped in his tracks, as if to run back and check for himself; but restrained himself.
"You're absolutely sure, Willie?" he asked.
"You can check with Joe Rosenkrantz, Mr. Smith. Or you can call the office of the building manager downstairs."