Lita was driving slowly, carefully. The car turned a corner, made another turn and then another, and they were on Addison going toward Second. It was still very dark. There was no activity on Addison; the only sound was the engine’s noise and Kingsley’s breathing. Kingsley was breathing very heavily. So he’s worried too, Corey thought. He’s plenty worried and that breathing tells it, all right. It’s a sure sign his blood pressure is way up. He’s jumpy as a cat in an unfamiliar alley, because this party we’re on, it’s the kind that would scare any third-rate thug accustomed to third-rate jobs. He got jolted when you gave him the hint he was biting off more taffy than he could chew, when you told him this job was major league. And I’m betting if you put your hand on his chest right now you’d feel his pump banging away full-blast.

The car made the turn onto Second Street.

Corey said to Lita, “Drive past the house.”

“Why do that?” Kingsley asked. “Why not just park outside and go right in and—”

“Use your head,” Corey cut in quietly. “Before we make a move, we check the layout. We take a good careful look at them windows. To see if there’s any lights.”

“There won’t be any lights,” Lita said. “When I left the house, he was sound asleep.”

“He’s a sound sleeper?” Corey asked.

“He sleeps like a stiff,” Lita said.

“But it’s best to be sure,” Corey spoke with quiet urgency. “Just drive a little ways past the house—”

The Oldsmobile slackened speed. It was crawling at less than ten miles per hour as it passed Grogan’s house. The windows were dark. On the other side of the street the Spanish automobile was parked. Lita braked the Oldsmobile, then put it in reverse, cut the engine and the Oldsmobile coasted back, coming to a stop directly in front of the Spanish automobile.

Lita opened the car door and started to get out. Corey said, “Hold it.”

“What for?” Kingsley demanded.

“Instructions,” Corey said.

“Not from you,” Kingsley gritted through heavy breathing. “I’m running this show and I’ll give the instructions.”

“All right,” Corey shrugged. “I’m listening.”

Kingsley took a very deep breath, through his nose. Then he opened his mouth to talk but all that came out was air. He tried again and the same thing happened. When it happened a third time, Lita turned her head slowly and looked curiously at Delbert Kingsley. Her eyebrows lifted, her lips were tight at the corners. Without sound she was making a sarcastic comment. Then she said to Corey, “Go on, call the signals. Somebody’s gotta call the signals.”

“God damn it,” Kingsley sputtered. “If you’ll just gimme time to think.”