Chapter 23

We drive until dark, when Grant suddenly says, “Here – let us out here.”

He pays with a fistful of hundreds, which makes the driver’s day.

“You never saw us, understand?” Grant says, holding out an extra $500.

The cabbie eyes the money greedily. “Never saw who, boss?”

Grant pays, the taxi drives off, and we walk through the shadowy streets of a residential neighborhood full of brownstone apartment buildings.

“What are we doing?” I ask him.

“Going to ground for the night.”

He looks at the buildings carefully as we pass, then selects one. I know immediately why he chose it: the three newspapers piled at the doorway. A pretty good indication that no one is home.

“Let me see the backpack,” he says. I hand it to him, and he pulls out a small box full of metal picks. Within seconds he is using them on the three different locks on the door, one by one. All three unlock.

He opens the door and pauses for a second, listening.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, glancing around nervously at the s