"John Henry Fernack," Malone said, "and his Safe and Loft Squad."
12
The warehouse was locked up tight, all right, Malone thought. In the dim light that surrounded the neighborhood, it stood like a single stone block, alone near the waterfront. There were other buildings nearby, but they seemed smaller; the warehouse loomed over Malone and Boyd threateningly. They stood in a shadow-blacked alley just across the street, watching the big building nervously, studying it for weak points and escape areas.
Boyd whispered softly, "Do you think they have a look-out?"
Malone's voice was equally low. "We'll have to assume they've got at least one kid posted," he said. "But they can't be watching all the time. Remember, they can't do everything."
"They don't have to," Boyd said. "They do quite enough for me. Do you realize that, right now, I could be—"
"Break it up," Malone said. He took a small handset from his pocket and pressed the stud. "Lynch?" he whispered.
A tinny voice came from the earpiece. "Here, Malone."
"Have you got them located yet?" Malone said.
"Not yet," Lynch's voice replied. "We're working on a triangulation now. Just hold on for a minute or so. I'll let you know as soon as we've got results."