The man led the way to the kitchen and the door that led to the cellar. It was cool and damp, and strange scurrying noises came from all directions. With the aid of a small penlight, the man led the way to a small window and pried it open. He helped the woman go through. Then, by standing on an empty wooden box, he followed her and settled the window back into place.

In the narrow space between their house and the one adjacent, which was no more than a foot and a half and smelled of dankness and moldy leaves, he pried open the cellar window next door and helped his partner through it. He knew for a fact the building housed a bunch of crackheads who would never venture into the cellar. Part of his contingency plan months ago had been this very drill. In the darkness, with the aid of the tiny light, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the contents of the cellar before they exited through yet another window.

They repeated the same process four more times. Finally, they came out of the back alley five houses away from their starting point. They moved off, apparently just a couple out for a midafternoon stroll. No one looked at them, no one called out. Totally ignored they walked a good mile before they found a cab.

Avery Snowden felt quite smug when he looked through his rearview mirror at the cluster of Asians slouched against a scraggly tree as he steered the Yellow Cab away from the curb. Silly amateurs!

Maggie Spritzer looked down at her littered desk and winced. If she didn’t clean it off soon, she’d have to relocate. She looked away just in time to see Ted and Espinosa loping down the hallway on their way to her office. The moment both men skidded to a stop, she grinned from ear to ear. “Tell me my headline isn’t the work of a genius.”

Both men laughed.

“It is,” Ted agreed.

“Things are working out just perfectly. I know that a few hours ago, all of you were bumming because Harry’s guys lost those two snots. In a way the reprieve was good for me because we get the paper out, and, bam, even though they think they got away, they aren’t going anywhere.”

“They’re toast,” Espinosa said. “Once the paper hits the street, the whole world will be watching for those two, and a disguise won’t make a difference. There’s always someone who will see through it.”

“I like that you led off with the retired couple from Alexandria who lost everything,” Ted said, “even their retirement because of those two. The public is not going to like it that a seventy-eight-year-old couple who were living comfortably, certainly not lavishly, are now being forced to live in a one-bedroom furnished apartment and count their pennies.