want them to get lost, for aside from thirty dollars they were all the money I had left. I put them in and sealed the envelope against air.
Not even finishing my bitter coffee, I sped for Dr. Finkelbaum's.
Arriving, I peeked in and, sure enough, there sat Torpedo.
I entered the waiting room with elaborate casual-ness. I picked up a two-year-old magazine from the table. I sat down. Unobserved, I slid the envelope and policy into the magazine while I pretended to read. Then, very casually, I rose, laid the magazine down in the chair beside Torpedo and walked out. Very smoothly done. Right by the manual.
I lurked around a corner, eyes fixed on a reflective shop window across the street. I saw Torpedo come out reading the letter.
Wonderful! The Countess Krak would soon be dead!
I raced down into a subway and was on my way home, conscious of pride in my organizational skill.
The moment I got home, I raced into the back room closet and put the viewer down.
I had expected by this time that they would be in Hairytown, for it is less than twenty miles north of Empire University, straight up the Hudson and right on the street or highway named Broadway.
I had only slightly misestimated. They were not yet into the town. They must have paused briefly somewhere for a bite of lunch. The Countess was watching torrents of air traffic going up and down the Hudson a mile west from their road.
Krak was saying, "This cab certainly rides roughly when you use it as a ground car, Bang-Bang. Why don't you take it off this bumpy cart track and fly it?"
"Jesus, Miss Joy," he said over his shoulder as he bounced along, "it won't do that."
"Is it broken or something? I see other vehicles flying up and down, way out there over the river."
"Those are choppers, Miss Joy. This is a cab: it ain't supposed to leave the ground."
"Are you afraid of the police?"
"Yes, MA'AM!"
"I am appalled, Bang-Bang, at how overregulated this planet is. It doesn't seem to reduce the crime rate any, either. Listen, Bang-Bang, I can fix it with any cop who stops us. I'm tired of the jolting. Take it into the air."
Bang-Bang said helplessly, "My chopper license isn't up-to-date."
"Now we're getting someplace," said the Countess Krak. "You should have told me and I could have made the parole officer renew it. Bang-Bang, you should understand here and now that you can trust me."
"Yes, ma'am," said Bang-Bang miserably.
She was looking at the road expectantly. Then she saw, apparently, that the old cab was not taking off the way any ordinary airbus would have. She said, "Well, get it into the air!"
"Ma'am," said Bang-Bang, with a sigh of relief, "we're here. There's the city limits sign of Hairytown."
"Good," said the Countess Krak. "But when we leave, make sure we don't have such a rough trip back. There's a shop. Stop and I'll go in."
"I'll keep the motor running."
"Oh, this isn't dangerous. I'm just asking for directions on how to get to Miss Agnes' house."
He stopped and she got out. There was a sign. It said:
ANTIQUES Priceless Artifacts
of
Sleepy Hollow Country
Washington Irving Slept Here
SALE TODAY ON HEADLESS-HORSEMEN
"Well, I never!" said the Countess Krak. "This is the place I'm supposed to be from, according to my passport."
Bang-Bang, sitting behind the wheel, blinked. "Isn't your passport right?"
"Government documents are never right. You wait right there-I won't be long."
She went into the shop. A very old, spindly man was drilling wormholes in a chair. He looked up.
"I'm supposed to be from around here," said the Countess Krak, "but I have gotten lost. Could you please direct me to the house of Miss Agnes?"
He stared at her. His eyes went round. Then he turned aside and spat. He went out the back door and didn't come back.
The Countess Krak went back to the car. She got in. "Drive on further."
Bang-Bang turned left onto Main Street. The Countess Krak apparently didn't see anything she considered inviting. They went about
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