n, and flipped off
the phone. Bowing in a phone booth wasn't the easiest thing in the
world to do, he thought to himself. But somehow he had managed it.

He reached into his pocket, half-convinced for a moment that it was an
Elizabethan belt-pouch. Talks with Her Majesty always had that effect;
after a time, Malone came to believe in the strange, bright world. But
he shook off the lingering effects of her psychosis, fished out some
coins and thought for a minute.

So Dorothy--Dorothea--had lifted the notebook. That was some help,
certainly. It let him know something more about the enemy he was
facing. But it wasn't really a lot of help.

What did he do now?

Her Majesty had suggested going to the Fueyo house, collaring the girl
(but treating her nicely, Malone reminded himself) and demanding the
book back. She'd even said he would get the book back, and since she
knew some of what went on in Dorothea Fueyo's mind, she was probably
right.

But what good was that going to do him?

He knew everything that was in the book. Getting it back was something
that could wait. It didn't sound particularly profitable, and it
didn't even sound like fun.

What he needed was a next move. He thought for a minute, dropped the
coins into the phone and dialed the number of the Police
Commissioner's office. After a brief argument with a secretary, he had
Fernack on the phone. And this time, Malone told himself, he was going
to be polite.

If possible.

"Good afternoon, John Henry," he said sunnily, when the commissioner's
face was finally on the screen. "Can you get me some more
information?"

Fernack stared at him sourly. "Depends," he said.

"On what?" Malone said, telling himself he wasn't going to get
irritated, and knowing perfectly well that he was lying.

"On what kind of information you want," Fernack said.

"Well," Malone said, "there's a warehouse I want to know some more
about. Who the owner is, for one thing, and--"

Fernack nodded. "I've got it," he said. He fished around on his desk,
and brought up a sheet of paper. He held it up to the screen while
Malone copied off the name and address. "Lieutenant Lynch told me all
about it."

"Lynch?" Malone said. "But he--"

"Lynch works for me, Malone," Fernack said. "Remember that."

"But he said he'd--"

"He said he wouldn't do anything, and he won't," Fernack said. "He
just reported it to me for my action. He knew I was working with you,
Malone. And I am his