"How would I know?" Lynch said. "After all, you were down there alone, weren't you? I was up here, working. If you'll tell me what he said, maybe I'll be able to tell you whether or not I think he was kidding. But--" Malone placed both his palms on the lieutenant's desk, mashing a couple of piles of papers. He leaned forward slowly, his eyes on Lynch's bland, innocent face. "Now look, Lynch," he said. "I like you. I really do. You're a good cop. You get things done." "Well, thanks," Lynch said. "But I don't see what this has to do with--" "I just don't want you trying to kid your buddy-boy," Malone said. "Kid you?" Lynch said. "I don't get it." "Come on, now," Malone said. "I know that room was bugged, just as well as you do. It was the sensible thing for you to pull, and you pulled it. You've got the whole thing recorded, haven't you?" "Me?" Lynch said. "Why would I--" "Oh, cut it out," Malone said impatiently. "Let's not play games, O.K.?" There was a second of silence. "All right," Lynch said. "So I recorded the conversation. Kill me. Crucify me. I'm stealing FBI secrets. I'm a spy secretly working for a foreign power. Take me out and electrocute me." "I don't want to fight you," Malone said wearily. "So you've got the stuff recorded. That's your business." "My business?" "Sure," Malone said cheerfully, "as long as you don't try to use it." "Now, Malone--" Lynch began. "This is touchy stuff," Malone said. "We're going to have to take a lot of care in handling it. And I don't want you throwing raids all over the place and mixing everything up." "Malone, I--" "Eventually," Malone said, "I'm going to need your help with these kids. But for right now, I want to handle this my way, without any interference." "I wouldn't think of--" "You wanted information," Malone said. "Fine. That's all right with me. You got the information, and that's O.K., too. But if you try to use it before I say the word, I'll ... I'll talk to good old Uncle John Henry Fernack. And he'll help me out: he'll give you a refresher course on _How To Be A Beat Cop_. In Kew Gardens. It's nice and lonely out there now, Lynch. You'd love it." "Malone," Lynch said tiredly. "Don't give me any arguments," Malone said. "I don't want any arguments." "I won't argue with you, Malone," Lynch said. "I've been trying to tell you something." Malone stepped away from the desk. "All right," he said. "Go ahead." * * * * * Lynch took a deep breath. "Malone, I'm not trying to queer your pitch," he said. "If I were going to pull a raid, here's what I'd have to do: get my own cops together, then call the precinct that covers that old warehouse. We don't cover the warehouse from here, Malone, and we'd need the responsible precinct's aid in anything we did down there." Malone said: "Well, all I--"