ehouse is deserted, but it's kept in good repair;
there are bars on the windows, and it's protected by all sorts of
alarm systems and things like that. So none of the others can use it.
Only the Spooks. You can't get in without a key, not at all."

"But do the Spooks--" Malone began.

"Oh, no," Kettleman moaned. "They don't have a key. At least, that's
what the other groups say. The Spooks just--just melt borough the
walls, or something like that."

"Mr. Kettleman," Malone said, "where is this warehouse?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Kettleman said.

Malone sighed. "Please, Mr. Kettleman. You know we're working for the
good of those boys, don't you?"

"Well, I--"

"Sure we are," Malone said. "So you can tell me."

Kettleman blinked behind his glasses, and moaned a little. Malone
waited with his hands tense in his lap. At last Kettleman said, "It's
on West Street, near Chambers. That's downtown." He gave Malone an
address. "That's where it is," he said. "But you won't do anything to
the boys, will you? They're basically good boys. No matter what. And
they--"

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Kettleman," Malone said. "We'll take care
of the Spooks."

"Oh," Kettleman said. "Yes. Sure."

He got up. Malone said, "There's just one more thing, Mr. Kettleman."

"Yes?" The big man's voice had reached the high, breathy pitch of a
fife.

"Do you have any idea what time the Spooks usually meet?"

"Well, now," Kettleman said, "I don't really know. You see, the reason
I wanted to tell you all this was because Lieutenant Lynch was
checking up on all those boys yesterday, and I thought..." He stopped
and cleared his throat, and when he began again his voice had dropped
almost to a whisper. "Well, Mr. Malone, I thought, after all, that
since he was asking me questions--you know, questions about where the
Spooks were, and all of that--since he was asking me questions..."

"Yes?" Malone said.

"I thought perhaps I ought to tell you about them," Kettleman said.
"Where they were, and all of that."

Malone stood up. "Mr. Kettleman," he said in his most official voice,
"I want you to know that the FBI appreciates what you've done. Your
information will probably be very helpful to us, and the FBI certainly
commends you for being public-spirited enough to come to us and tell
us what you know." He thought for a second, and then added, "In the
name of the FBI, Mr. Kettleman--well done!"

Kettleman stared, smiled, and gulp