"O.K.," Malone said. "But tell me: Did you actually make arrangements for me to get into that warehouse? I suppose you know that's what I want."
"I guessed that much," Fernack said. "I haven't made any arrangements at all yet, but I will. I'll have Safe and Loft get the keys, and a full set of floor plans to the place while they're at it. Will that do, Your Majesty?"
Malone choked on his smoke and shot a quick look over his shoulder. There was nothing there but the wall of the booth. Queen Elizabeth I was nowhere in evidence. Then he realized that Fernack had been talking to him.
"Don't do that," he said.
"What?" Fernack said.
Malone realized in one awful sec
ond how strange the explanation was going to sound. Could he say that he thought he'd been mistaken for an old friend of his, Elizabeth Tudor? Could he say that he'd just had a call from her?
In the end he merely said: "Nothing," and let it go at that.
"Well, anyhow," Fernack said, "do you want anything else?"
"Not right now," Malone said. "I'll let you know, though. And—thanks, John Henry. No matter why you're doing this, thanks."