"What—"
"I'm trying," said Lockley in a grating voice, "to figure out what to do next. That didn't work."
"I'll be right back," said Jill.
She went out to deliver the wallet to the driver, who had apparently been ordered to put the drunk in the trailer body and deliver him somewhere.
Lockley swore explosively when she was gone. He clenched and unclenched his hands. He paced the length of the room.
Jill came back, her face white.
"They opened the door of the trailer to pass him in," she said in a thin, strained voice. "And there were other men back there. Several of them! And machinery! Not cages for animals but engines—generators—electrical things! I'm frightened!"
"And I," said Lockley, "am a fool. I should have known it! Look here—"
The frosted-glass door opened. The driver came back. He had a revolver in his hand.
"Too bad!" he said calmly. "We should've been more careful. But the lady saw too much. Now—"