"Afternoon," I said affably to the guard. "I want to pick up some
stuff. Typewriter, maybe a gun, you know. How do you work it here?
Flat rate for all you can carry, prices marked on everything, or what
is it?"
He stared at me suspiciously. He was a monster; six inches taller than
I, he must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds. He didn't look
very smart, which might explain why he was working for somebody else
these days. But he was smart enough for what he had to do.