Slim moaned. "Please, Madam, will you leave now?"
She looked hurt again. "Yes, but will you please put this package in my car?"
"I will," said Slim, through tight jaws. "But—"
"Why, that looks just like the building inspector's car," she said, wide-eyed. "It's his number, too."
"Madam," begged Slim, "you're no dummy; please leave now and let us get on with our work."
She walked upstairs dubiously. Slim was studying the enormous car with a hopeless look on his face. Orders for cars to be taken out were pouring down the chute.
"What are we going to do now? We can't run that car into the other stall, because it's too big. It will take all night to build another stall, and no doubt the inspector is waiting up there with a squad of cops, hoping something will happen. After all, we're costing LaBombard a million bucks." His eyes opened suddenly. "I'll bet he sent the woman down here to spy on us."
A car came down the ramp and went into the reducing stall, and Slim automatically set the dial.
The telephone rang, and I could hear the voice from where I stood. "The building inspector wants his car."