“Now listen to me closely. About Giselle . . .” he said. And told her all about the phone call and Morty’s kidnapping earlier.

“Oh my god. We’ve got to tell someone. I’ll call Mr. Woolrich,” said Bayliss. When she reached for her phone, Coop laid his hand on it.

“Let me ask you a question: Do you really think the DOPS is going to risk losing the box to save a couple of lowlife crooks?”

“Giselle works for us. They have to, right?”

“They’re the government. They don’t have to do anything. And Woolrich will just tell Nelson. You think he’s going to help? He’ll bury Giselle just to get back at me, and you’ll probably end up in the mailroom.”

“What are we going to do?” said Bayliss.

“I need to take the box,” said Coop.

“Are you crazy?” Bayliss whisper-screamed. “That thing is a weapon.”

“Yeah, aimed right at Giselle’s head. You want to pull the trigger?”

Bayliss sat back in her chair. She gnawed on a fingernail for a few seconds. “What do you want to do with it? You can’t give it to the people who kidnapped Giselle. That would leave your friend Morty in trouble. And you can’t give it to Morty’s kidnappers.”

“I’m not giving it to anyone,” said Coop. “They just need to think I am. I have an idea. If it works, it’ll get back Giselle and Morty, and maybe help you capture Salzman and all the other idiots who want this thing. But you have to trust me and let me take the box.”

Bayliss drummed her fingers nervously on her desk. She got up, looked around, and sat back down. “Only if you take me with you,” she said.

Coop thought about it. She’d kept it together in the break room, she was more willing to take chances than he’d thought, and they both hated Nelson. He held out his hand. “Partners,” he said. Bayliss shook it.

“Partners,” she said. “What do we do first?”

“Do you have Salzman’s phone number?”

“I can get it.”

“Okay. That’s all you need to do for now.” Coop took a pen and pad and wrote Morty’s address out for her. “Call in sick tomorrow. Meet me at this address at noon. Bring Salzman’s number. If I need anything else, I’ll call you. Give me your number.” She wrote it on the pad and he put the paper in his bag.

“I’m still trying to figure out what Salzman wanted with the box,” said Bayliss. “A guy like him. Was it just money?”

“I don’t know. Everybody who knows about the box thinks it’s something else. Luck. A calling card for an old god. A bomb. The end of the world. Who knows what he thinks it is.”