Lloyd was in his gray janitor overalls. He had long slicked-back hair and biker muttonchops. Unfortunately, they didn’t make him look like a badass as much as Wolverine’s pool boy.

“It’s cool. No one’s coming down on you. We just want to know where we’re going,” said Jorge.

“Yeah. All right.”

“So, we come in through the duck. Then what?” said Steve.

Lloyd shot him a look. “I bring you in through the loading dock while the cleaning crew is on break. Then we go up the service elevator to the ninth floor.”

“What about alarms?” said Jorge.

“There won’t be any. We’re going in when the building is being cleaned, so it’s okay getting you in and upstairs because I work on nine.”

“Where’s the office?” said Jerry.

Lloyd took out a second piece of paper and set it on the table. It was spotted with grease stains. “Sorry. We had wings tonight.”

“Good for you,” said Steve. “Is this really how the ninth floor is laid out?”

“Sure. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure exactly. It kind of looks—”

“Like the fat guy in that game. Operation,” said Jerry.

“Yeah. That’s it. It’s a fat man.”

Lloyd turned the paper around and pointed. “No, it’s not. Here’s the elevators and here’s the receptionist desk.”

“Right. By the Charlie Horse and the Funny Bone,” Jerry said.

“Look. I’m not an artist, okay? I’m a guitarist.”

“I thought you were a janitor,” said Jorge.

“Not on the weekends.” Lloyd flipped the map over. There was a grainy Xeroxed photo of five young men in very tight clothes striking surly poses. Lloyd was at the end of the line, holding a Fender Stratocaster like he was using it to harpoon a narwhal. At the bottom of the flyer it said PEARL SERPENT.

“What the hell is a pearl serpent?” said Steve.

“It’s Lloyd’s band,” said Tommy.

“We do Whitesnake covers. All the way from Trouble to their new stuff.

“They have new stuff?” Steve asked.

“They have old stuff?” Jerry asked.

Steve turned the paper over. “And this is what you chose to draw the plan on?”

Lloyd shrugged. “It was the only paper I had.”

Steve nodded. “Not being a pen teacher guy and all, I can see your dilemma.”

“What about the fat guy?” said Jerry. “Is he in the band?”

The others laughed.

“I said I wasn’t an artist. This is the best I could do. Anyway, there’s the office.”

“By the Adam’s Apple.”

“Whatever.”

“So, there aren’t any alarms to worry about in the building. What about the office?” said Jorge.

“I walk around in there all the time, so it’s easy.”

“And there’s a glass display case on the wall with valuable-looking objects in it?”

“Oh yeah. Little statues from like Africa or something, and jewels, and boxes and shit.”