When he looked like a lawyer again, he buckled the briefcase into his belt, turned off the room lights, stepped over to the door to the elevator shaft, and waited for Milk-dud’s call.

But a couple of maintenance guys arrived first.

Jack heard their voices on the far side of the other HVAC door, the alarmed one that led into the building proper. He opened his door, swung out into the elevator shaft, and closed the door behind him.

“Here I am, Dud,” he whispered. “Now where the hell are you?”

He looked down. All three elevators seemed to be at the lower end of the shaft at the moment, and it looked like one godawful long way down. Jack pressed his ear to the door to see if he could hear what the maintenance men were saying.

“Y’ever hear anyt’ing so fuckin’ stupid?” said a faint voice. “A guy crawling t’rough d’ heating ducts? I mean, what’s dat all about?”

“Yeah. I think maybe someone’s been hittin’ the nose candy a little hard, if y’know what I’m sayin’ and I think you do.”

“Right. Tis the season to be jolly an’ all ‘at shit. But let’s go t’rough d’ motions an’ make ‘em happy.”

Jack thought he heard footsteps coming his way on the far side of the door, so he hurried down the ladder and hung at about the spot where he’d stepped off the top of the elevator.

He looked down and saw that same old elevator pulling to a stop at the twenty-sixth. Too early for Milkdud to be inside. He looked down at the top of the car, where he’d crouched, clutching the sling bar.

Above him, the door handle rattled. Christ, were they going to check the elevator shaft?

Check the ventilation ducts first, you idiots!

They’d see the lights he’d left on in the shaft and think he was still in there.

But the door was opening. The elevator had stopped just below him, and Jack didn’t see that he had much choice. He didn’t want another ride, really he didn’t, but—

He stepped off the ladder onto the car’s sling bar.

As the door above swung open, Jack flicked off the cab roof bulb just in time and crouched behind the hoist cables, doing his best to conceal himself. He glanced up and saw someone silhouetted in the light from the HVAC area, shining a flashlight into the shaft.

Then the car started down. Jack closed his eyes and hung on. The ride was worse in the dark.

He groaned. “Hope you’ve got your running shoes on, Dud.”

Jack had made three round trips and was starting the fourth when the cell phone vibrated against his leg. He whipped it out.

“Dud?”

“I’ve got the leftest car to myself, and I’m comin’ to getcha, Jack.”

“I’m already here.”