I soon spotted squad cars rolling in, one benefit to my bird’s-eye view. At least a half dozen of them cut cleanly, quietly, dark, through the side streets, like a herd of killer sharks honing in on an unsuspecting seal. Three cars approached the front; three turned off to speed down the alley one street over to cut off any rear escapes. Leon and his cousins were caught in a vise and didn’t know it. I smiled, watching as the cops roared in, tires squealing. Authoritative shouts came next as the cops bounded out of their squads and stormed inside. The Dudz and Sudz emptied quickly, everybody frantically tumbling out of the front door clutching armloads of laundry meant for the machines—one woman pulling a crude wagon with a sleeping baby in it, another hastily buttoning her blouse. I didn’t even want to guess what that was about. A few minutes later, a team came out with the Williams brothers in cuffs, but no Leon.

I snapped a photo. “Leon made it to the back room. Dammit.” The cops wouldn’t have had a warrant for that, not yet, but at least they got the thugs. I stuck my tongue out in their direction. “Take that, you ugly creeps.”

I was so busy watching the brothers getting put into the back of the squad car that I missed the unmarked car when it rolled up. By the time I caught sight of Ben and Weber standing in the middle of the street, looking up at me, it was too late. I ducked back from the edge, and then quickly crawled back to the top of the ladder. I eyed it unenthusiastically before forcing myself over the side, heading down. I’d die or I wouldn’t, but I wasn’t going to wait up here like a dim-witted damsel in need of rescue. I’d take my chances with the “death ladder.” I took the rungs hard, double-time, no slow and easy climb this time. I figured the faster I went, the farther down I’d be when the whole thing came crashing down on my head.