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natural. He walked on so they wouldn’t bother to look at him. And then he saw the delivery car. It was parked in the driveway a few yards ahead, and on the side of the car was lettered “TV Repair.” The driver was opening the door in the rear.
    It took Catell a few quick steps to get behind the man at the truck and less than a second to jab his hand, stiff fingered, into the driver’s right kidney. The man didn’t scream. He exhaled with a rattle in his throat and started to sag. Catell jerked the rear door open, tossed the man in, and jumped after him. Without bothering to close the door, he smashed his fist into the groaning face and the man went limp. Catell took off his hat and coat, ripped the jacket and cap off the unconscious driver, and put them on. Then he jumped out the back. Whistling a tune, he slammed the back door shut, jumped in the driver’s seat, and drove back to the corner that he had just left.
    Catell pulled around the corner fast, skimming the parked truck by inches. The unconscious man in the back rolled heavily against a television set. Glass broke and picture tubes without their housings crashed around the floor. Catell came to a sharp stop in front of Schumacher’s house and, still whistling, jumped out of the truck and opened the door in the back. With one hand he pulled the television set toward him; with the other he reached for a wrench. A few sharp blows and the tube in the setwas broken, leaving a large, empty space. Carrying the set in both arms, Catell slammed the rear door with his foot and went up the stairs of the apartment house. Catell kept on whistling loudly, even when he saw faces looking at him through the glass of the door.
    Cops.
    Again he didn’t have to think, to decide.
    “Is one of you jerks going to open that door?”
    For a moment they didn’t move, just stared at the man with the television set. Through the glass Catell saw the lips of one of them move, and he seemed to be saying, “Of all the rotten luck—”
    The one with the cigarette opened the door and Catell went through. He gave the man with the cigarette a push with the back of the television set.
    “Pardon me, buster. Step aside.” He went to the stairs and up, whistling as before.
    He didn’t see an agent on every floor, but he knew they were there. They didn’t worry him. The one on the fourth floor—he’d have to get rid of him.
    When Catell came to Schumacher’s door, he looked down the corridor and saw a man busying himself with the hallway window. The guy was concentrating very hard on the window.
    “Hey, buddy,” Catell said.
    “You calling me?”
    “Yeah. Gimme a hand, willya?”
    That’s the guy he had to get rid of. When the agent came closer, Catell pushed the television set at him.
    “Hold this for a second, buddy?”
    The man put his arms around the bulky cabinet and looked at Catell with a question, but just as he was going to say something, Catell’s arm whipped out and the ridgeof his hand slashed across the man’s Adam’s apple. That was all there was to it. Catell caught the set and let the man drop. Then he kicked his foot against Schumacher’s door.
    “Open up. It’s Tony.”
    Schumacher pulled the door open a crack.
    “Open up quick. Drag that cop in here.” Catell pushed past Schumacher into the apartment. “Don’t stand there, goddamn it, get that guy on the floor there!”
    Schumacher dragged the unconscious man from the hall and kicked the door shut.
    “Tony, what goes here? Did you say ‘cop’?”
    “Quick, where’s the stuff? Same place?”
    “Of course. You didn’t think I was going to go near—”
    “Shut up and listen. The place is lousy with cops. Feds, I think. The whole street is staked out. Now I’m going to take this stuff and walk right out of here. You stay put. They got nothing on you, they don’t find nothing, and you don’t say nothing. Understand? I’ll contact you.”
    Catell went to his knees before the bookcase and pulled up