Judd took a step toward the manager’s office. “I have to see Mr. Katz about—”
The larger man blocked his way. “Mr. Katz is busy, Doc,” he said softly.
The man in the elevator spoke. “I’ll take you upstairs.”
“No,” Judd said. “I—”
“Do like he says.” There was no emotion in his voice.
There was a sudden blast of cold air as the lobby door opened. Two men and two women hurried in, laughing and chattering, huddled in their coats.
“It’s worse than Siberia,” said one of the women.
The man holding her arm was pudgy-faced, with a Mid-western accent. “Tain’t a fit night out for man nor beast.”
The group was moving toward the elevator. The doorman and elevator operator looked at each other silently.
The second woman spoke. She was a tiny, platinum blonde with a heavy Southern accent. “It’s been a perfectly dreamy evening. Thank you all so much.” She was sending the men away.
The second man gave a howl of protest. “You’re not going to let us go without a little nightcap, are you?”
“It’s awfully late, George,” simpered the first woman.
“But it’s below zero outside. You’ve gotta give us a little anti-freeze.”
The other man added his plea. “Just one drink and then we go.”
“Well…”
Judd was holding his breath. Please!
The platinum blonde relented. “All right. But just one, you-all hear?”
Laughing, the group stepped into the elevator. Judd quickly moved in with them. The doorman stood there uncertainly, looking at his brother. The one in the elevator shrugged, closed the door, and started the elevator up. Judd’s apartment was on the fifth floor. If the group got out before him, he was in trouble. If they got out after him, he had a chance to get into his apartment, barricade himself, and call for help.
“Floor?”
The little blonde giggled. “I don’t know what my husband would say if he saw me inviting two strange men up to my apartment.” She turned to the elevator operator. “Ten.”
Judd exhaled and realized that he had been holding his breath. He spoke quickly. “Five.”
The elevator operator gave him a patient, knowing look and opened the door at Five. Judd got out. The elevator door closed.
Judd moved toward his apartment, stumbling with pain. He took out his key, opened the door, and went in, his heart pounding. He had five minutes at the most before they came to kill him. He closed the door and started to put the chain lock in the bolt. It came off in his hand. He looked at it and saw that it had been cut through. He flung it down and moved toward the phone. A wave of dizziness swept over him. He stood there, fighting the pain, his eyes closed, while precious time passed. With an effort, he started toward the phone again, moving slowly. The only person he could think of to call was Angeli, but Angeli was at home, ill. Besides—what could he say? We have a new doorman and elevator operator and I think they’re going to kill me? He slowly became aware that he was holding the receiver in his hand, standing there numbly, too dazed to do anything. Concussion, he thought. Boyd may have killed me, after all. They would walk in and find him like this—helpless. He remembered the look in the eyes of the big man. He had to outwit them, keep them off balance. But good God—how?
He turned on the small TV set that monitored the lobby. The lobby was deserted. The pain returned, washing over him in waves, making him feel faint. He forced his tired mind to focus on the problem. He was in an emergency… Yes…Emergency. He had to take emergency measures. Yes…His vision was blurring again. His eyes focused on the phone. Emergency…He moved the dial close to his eyes so that he could read the numbers. Slowly, painfully, he dialed. A voice answered on the fifth ring. Judd spoke, his words slurred and indistinct. His eye was caught by a flurry of motion on the TV monitor. The two men, in street clothes, were crossing the lobby and moving toward the elevator.