of an obscure and tiny African state disappears in New York. We might be in the local papers for two or three days, some of the more rabid Communist nations might get a little propaganda value out of American lawlessness, but that would be all.”
“All right,” Parker said. “But we have to know about the elevator shaft first.”
“But why?”
“We can’t get in at the front,” Parker told him. “And we can’t get in at the back or the sides. With the coal- chute window sealed off, we can’t get in at the bottom. That leaves the top.”
Formutesca laughed, a sudden bark of delight. “That’s the kind of thinking we want!” he said.
Gonor smiled at Formutesca, then said to Parker, “Several years ago I read a detective story, English or American, I’m not sure which. In it, the detective advocated eliminating all impossibilities. Whatever was left, he said, however improbable, was the truth. Now I find the other side of the law has a similar dictum. The only problem is, how do we get tothe top?”
“From next door,” Parker said. He got to his feet and went over to the picture showing the front of the house. “You’ve got about four feet here,” he said, pointing to the alley to the left of the house. “And the same on the other side. The buildings on both sides are taller than this one. We go out a window from one of those buildings and over to the roof.”
Gonor said, “How?”
“It depends on the position of the window in relation to the roof. If we can, we’ll just put a one-by-twelve across from the sill to the roof. If the angle’s too steep, we’ll have to do it with ropes and grappling irons.”
Formutesca said, “What about the people over there? We’d rather not cause trouble with innocent bystanders.”
“We’ll be going at night,” Parker said. “We’ll have to find a place that’s empty at night. That’s no problem.”
Formutesca grinned. “If you say so,” he said.
Parker went back to the table and sat down. “The next thing is armaments,” he said. “Can we get whatever we need?”
“Within reason,” Gonor said. “I couldn’t get us a tank or a helicopter, for instance. But I can get guns, rifles, machine guns.”
“Gas?”
“What kind of gas?”
“Knockout. Stuff that works fast and disperses fast.”
Gonor smiled bitterly. “I’m not sure that’s among the items the big boys will let us play with,” he said. When Parker frowned at him, he explained, “All our armaments come from the major nations, of course. And Israel, which in some ways is also a major nation. But there are agreements among the arms-producing nations about which armaments will be sold in which part of the world. We, for instance, may purchase jet fighters from anyone, and so we have an air force of seven MIG-fifteens and five F-ninety-fours, all purchased used, but no one will sell us a jet bomber.”
Parker said, “Whatever we want you’re going to have to have shipped from Dhaba?”
“Not at all,” Gonor said. “Mr Formutesca is our military attache. He will make the purchases in this country for shipment to our warehouse space in Newark, and after that whatever items we need just won’t go on to Dhaba.” Gonor shrugged. “Simplicity,” he said.
Parker said to Formutesca, “Can you get the gas?”
“I’ll have to check,” Formutesca said. “I doubt they’ll let us have that kind of lethal gas.”
“It doesn’t have to be lethal. All it has to do is knock a man out in one or two breaths.”
“Non-lethal? I’m sure we can get that.”
“Good. We’ll also need some sort of explosive. One that won’t cause much damage but makes a big bang.”
Formutesca nodded. “I know something good for that.”
To Gonor Parker said, “Can you get more pictures of the outside of the house without being seen?”
“I think so,” Gonor said.
“I want angle shots,” Parker said. “So I can see the sides of the flanking buildings.”
“All right.”
“If you can’t get them without tipping yourself to the people inside, let it go.”
“I’ll be careful,” Gonor said.
“Good. Formutesca, have you got old clothes? Very sloppy old clothes.”
“I have the things I play touch football in.”
“They have to look like work clothes. Like a janitor.”
“Oh! Yes, of course. I have a pair of trousers so smeared with paint they’d pass for a Pollock.”
“Good.” To Gonor he said, “We’re going to need a truck, a small delivery van. The smaller the better.”
“I’m afraid we don’t own a truck,” Gonor said.
“Then buy one. Old. Used. As old as you can get.”
