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."

The police squads--Lynch and his men, the warehouse precinct men and the

Safe and Loft Squad--had set up a careful cordon around the area, and

were now hard at work trying to determine two things.

First, they had to know whether there was anybody in the building at

all.

Second, they had to be able to locate anyone in the building with

precision.

The silence of the downtown warehouse district helped. They had several

specially designed, highly sensitive directional microphones aimed at

the building from carefully selected spots around the area, trying to

pick up the muffled sounds of speech or motion within the warehouse. The

watchmen in buildings nearby had been warned off for the time being so

that their footsteps wouldn't occlude any results.

Malone waited, feeling nervous and cold. Finally Lynch's voice came

through again. "We're getting something, all right," he said. "There are

obviously several people in there. You were right, Malone."

* * * * *

"Thanks," Malone said. "How about that fix?"

"Hold it a second," Lynch said. Wind swept off the river at Malone and

Boyd. Malone closed his eyes and shivered. He could smell fish and

iodine and waste, the odor of the Hudson as it passes the city. Across

the river lights sparkled warmly. Here there was nothing but darkness.

A long time passed, perhaps ten seconds.

Then Lynch's voice was back: "Sergeant McNulty says they're on the top

floor, Malone," he said. "Can't tell how many for sure. But they're

talking and moving around."

"It's a shame these things won't pick up the actual words at a

distance," Malone said.

"Just a general feeling of noise is all we get," Lynch said. "But it

does some good."

"Sure," Malone said. "Now listen carefully: Boyd and I are going in.

Alone."

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