"I understand," Stenn said mildly. I pulled up. My lights splashed on the spikes of a Mark IX tank trap. I set the parking jacks and got out. "Remember what I told you," I said. "No matter what." I walked up into the beam of the lights. A voice spoke from off to the side. "Douse 'em, Rube." I went back and cut the lights. Three men sauntered out onto the highway. "Keep the hands away from the sides, Rube." One of the men was a head taller than the others. I couldn't see his face in the faint red light from the beacon, but I knew who he was. "Hello, Naples," I said. He came up to me. "You know me, Rube?" "Sure," I said. "The first thing Haug told me was pay my respects to Mr. Naples." Naples laughed. "You hear that, boys? They know me pretty good on the outside, ha?" * * * * * He looked at me, not laughing any more. "I don't see you before." "My first trip." He jerked a thumb at the hack. "Who's your trick?" "A businessman. Name is Stenn." "Yeah? What kind business?" I shook my head. "We don't quiz the cash customers, Joe." "Let's take a look." Naples moved off toward the hack, the boys at his side. I followed. Naples looked in at Stenn. Stenn sat relaxed and looked straight ahead. Naples turned away, nodded to one of his helpers. The two moved off a few yards. The other man, a short bullet-headed thug in a grease-spatted overcoat, stood by the hack, staring in at Stenn. He took a heavy old-style automatic from his coat pocket, pulled open the door. He aimed the gun at Stenn's head and carefully squeezed the trigger. The hammer clicked emptily. "Ping," he said. He thrust the gun back in his pocket, kicked the door shut and went over to join Naples. "Okay, Rube," Naples called. I went over to him. "I guess maybe you on the level," he said. "Standard fee. Five hundred, Old Federal notes." I had to be careful now. I held a bland expression, reached in--slowly--took out my wallet. I extracted two hundred-C notes and held them out. Naples looked at them, unmoving. The thug in the dirty overcoat moved up close, and suddenly swung the edge of his palm at my wrist. I was ready; I flicked my hand aside and chopped him hard at the base of the neck. He dropped. I was still holding out the money. "That clown isn't worthy of a place in the Naples organization," I said. Naples looked down at the man, stirred him with his foot. "A clown," he said. He took the money and tucked it in his shirt pocket. "Okay, Rube," he said. "My regards to Haug." I got in the hack and moved up to the barrier. It started up, trundled aside. Naples was bending over the man I had downed. He took the pistol from the pocket of the overcoat, jacked the action and aimed. There was a sharp crack. The overcoat flopped once. Naples smiled over at me. "He ain't worthy a place in the Naples organization," he said. I waved a hand vaguely and gunned off down the road. II The speaker in my ear hummed.