"Somewhere in the Village, nickels to knotholes," Lansberg guessed as he turned to follow.
He and Lansberg had been in and out of the New York office in record time.
The high-velocity three millimeter slug whined through the air above Karnes' head and buried itself in Lansberg's shoulder.
Lansberg took it, turned it this way and that, moving his hands over the surface.
Lansberg stuck a cigarette into his mouth and talked around it as he lit it.
Karnes looked absently at the thin line of smoke wiggling from Lansberg's cigarette.
Karnes found he was listening to Lansberg with only half an ear.
Having made sure that Brittain actually had entered 523, he stepped back toward the elevator in order to notify Lansberg.
With Lansberg shot up, that put the Brittain case in his hands.
"We watched the indicator needle on the elevator door in the lobby, and I signalled the 'copters on the roof," Lansberg whispered.