think we can do any more anywhere," Lynch said. "Let's lock
the place up and leave and forget all about it."

"Fine," Malone said. "I've got work to do." He looked around, found
Dorothea and signaled to her. "Come on, Dorothea. Where's Boyd?"

"Here I am," Boyd said, walking slowly across the big room to Malone.
He had one hand held to his chin.

"What's the matter with you?" Malone asked.

Boyd took his hand away. There was a bald spot the size of a quarter
on the point of his chin. "One of those kids," he said sadly, "has a
hell of a strong grip. Come on, Miss Fueyo. Come on, Malone. Let's get
out of here."

13

"Logically," Malone said, "there has to be _some_ way to catch them."
He looked around the hotel room as though he expected to find an
answer painted in big black letters on the wall. "Logically," he said
again, and tried to think of what came next. He liked the sound of the
word, but that was as far as it went.

"That's fine," Boyd said. He sat on a chair, staring gloomily at the
floor and rubbing the bald spot on his chin with a single, sad,
inquisitive forefinger. "There has to be an answer. You're probably
right. But what the hell is it?"

Malone started to answer, and then wondered what he had been going to
say. He sunk himself in thought. There was a knock at the door. "Who's
there?" he called, glad of any relief at all.

"It's me," a small voice said. "Dorothea."

"Come in," Malone said.

The door opened. Dorothea came in, shut the door behind her, and
looked around the room a little awkwardly.

"Did you get a good night's sleep?" Malone said.

She nodded. "I guess so," she said. "Sure. It was nice of you to get
me a room for the night. I mean, I guess I was--well..."

"Forget it," Malone said grandly. "You were upset and tired, that's
all. Hell, in the car on the way back here last night, you fainted."

"I did not faint," she said.

"Well," Malone said, "you sure looked like--"

"I was tired," Dorothea said.

Malone shrugged. "Okay. You were tired."

"You're not mad, are you," she said, "because I stole your notebook?"

"Of course not," Malone said. "I said forget it, didn't I? Sit down
and help us out."

"Help you?" she said.

"That's right," Boyd said. "Help us figure out how to catch this bunch
of maniacs before they steal everything in New York."

Dorothea said, "Maniacs? I--" and Malone interrupted her in a hurry.

"Police Commissi