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haps this garment had once been gray； but now it was just dark； blotchy。 And a little big。 All the better。 He even took the dead man's shoes。 They were too small； but he put them on anyway。
Judy loaded the trash bag and blanket roll in the car。 He helped himself to the wine bottle too； wedging it between the stuff on the backseat so it wouldn't fall over and spill。
He rolled out of the alley and； with the help of a courteous tourist； managed to get back into traffic。 He discarded all his white uniform items in a Dumpster near RFK Memorial Stadium； then parked the car in the lot at D。C。 General Hospital
With his blanket roll over one shoulder and the trash bag… which now contained his gym bag…dangling across the other； he shuffled across the parking lot toward the Burke Street Metro stop。 He didn't get far。 His feet were killing him。 The shoes were impossibly small。 He sat on a curb with a little hedge behind it and put on his running shoes from his gym bag。 The car keys he buried in the soft dirt。 He stuffed the drunk's shoes under the hedge； sprinkled some wine on himself and smeared it on his face and left the bottle beside the shoes after wiping it of prints。 There was an old cap in the trash bag； which he donned。
He sat there on the curb； considering。 A car drove into the lot。 A woman and her two teenage youngsters。 She glanced at him； then ignored him。 The teenagers scowled。
This just might work； Judy told himself。 He shouldered his load and set off again for the Metro stop。
Harlan Albright was in the car dealer's snack area； feeding quarters into the coffee machine； when FBI agents arrived at 4：30 to arrest him。 He extracted the paper cup from the little door in the front of the machine and sipped it experimentally as he glanced idly through the picture windows at the service desk。 Three men in business suits； one of them black； short haircuts； their coats hanging open。 One of them had a word with Joe Talley； the other service rep； while the other two scanned the area。
As he looked at them； Albright knew。 They weren't here about a car。 When Talley pointed in this direction； Albright moved。
On the back wall of the snack area was a door marked 〃Employees Only。〃 It was locked。 Albright used his key and went through into the parts storeroom。 The door automatically locked behind him。
He walked between the shelves and passed the man at the counter with a greeting。 Out in the corridor he walked ten feet； then turned left and went through an unmarked door into the service bay。
Halfway down the bay； one of the mechanics was lowering a car on the hoist； 〃You about finished with that LTD； Jimmy？〃
〃All done； Mr。 Albright。 Was gonna take it out of here。〃
〃I'll do that。 The owner is out at the service desk now。 She's impatient； as usual。〃
〃Starter wire was loose；〃 the mechanic said。 〃That was the whole problem。 Keys are in it But what about the paperwork？〃
〃Go ahead and walk it over to the office。〃
〃Sure。〃 As Albright started the car； the mechanic raised the garage door and kicked the lifting blocks out of the way of the tires。
Albright backed out carefully and drove down the alley toward the area where customers' cars were parked。
Yep； another guy in a business suit hustling this way； and another going around the building toward the front entrance。 Albright turned left and drove by the agent walking toward the main showroom。 That agent looked at him with surprise。 As Albright paused at the street； he glanced in the rearview mirror。 The agent was talking on a hand…held radio and looking this way。
Albright fed gas and slipped the car into traffic。
They would be right behind him。 He jammed the accelerator down and shot across the next intersection just as the light turned red。
He went straight for three more blocks； then turned right for a block； then right again。
He entered the dealership lot from the back and coasted the car toward the service parking area； watching carefully for agents。 His trip around town had taken five minutes。 Yes； they all seemed to be gone。
He parked the car and walked back inside。
Joe Talley saw him ing。 〃Hey； Harlan； some guys were here looking for you。〃
〃'S'at right？〃
〃Yeah。 Didn't say； but they were cops。 Had those little radios and charged outta here like their tails were on fire。 Just a couple minutes ago。 Say； what've you done anyway？ Robbed a bank？〃
〃Nah。〃 Albright quickly sorted through the rack of keys of cars that were awaiting service。 〃Forgot to put a quarter in the meter。〃 This one； a new Taurus。 In for its first oil change。
〃Sons of bitches came after me two years ago；〃 Talley said。 〃My ex swore out a warrant。〃
〃I sent her the fucking check last week；〃 Albright growled。 He walked back toward the parking area。 〃They e back； you tell 'em I went out to feed the meter；〃 he called。 〃See you after a while。〃
〃Yeah； sure； Harlan。〃 Talley laughed。
〃Do my time card too； will'ya； Joe？〃
〃You're covered。〃 Talley went back to annotating a service form。
Albright never returned to the dealership； of course。 Less than two hours later he abandoned the Taurus in a parking garage in downtown Washington and walked four blocks to a KGB safe house。
〃Just like that； cool as ice； he went back and traded cars？〃
〃Yessir。〃 Dreyfus tried to keep his eyes on Camacho's face。 It was difficult。
〃Two guys in two hours go through our fingers！ What is this； Keystone Kops？〃 Camacho sighed heavily。 〃Well； what are we doing to round up these public enemies？〃
〃Warrants for them both。 Murder One for Judy and Accessory Before the Fact for Albright。 Stakeouts。 Briefings for the D。C。； federal； airport and suburban police…every pistol…packer within fifty miles of the Washington Monument。 Photos on the eleven o'clock news and in tomorrow's papers。 The cover story is drug。〃
〃We really needed Albright； Lloyd。〃
〃I know； sir。〃 Dreyfus was stunned。 Luis Camacho had never before called him by his first name in the five years they had known each other。
Camacho sat rubbing his forehead with the first two fingers of his left hand。
〃Drugs in the Pentagon is going to get a lot of press；〃 Dreyfus volunteered。 〃Already Ted Koppel wants the Director for Nightline。 Some nitwit on the Hill is promising a congressional investigation。 Everybody on the west side of the Potomac is probably going to have to pee in a bottle on Monday morning。〃
If Camacho heard； he gave no sign。 After a moment he said softly； 〃We'll never get him unless he es to us。〃
27
A Saturday in August is a terrible time to be in Washington。 The heat and humidity make any trip outdoors an endurance trek。 The summer haze diffuses the sunlight； but doesn't soften it。 Perspiration oozes from every square inch of hide and clothes bee sodden rags。
By eleven o'clock Saturday morning。 Smoke Judy felt as if he had lived on the street for six months。 He had managed only two hours' sleep the night before； most of it in fifteen…minute spurts。 The alley he now called home housed three other derelicts； all of whom were atose drunk by 9 P。M。 They had no trouble at all sleeping。
At 7 A。M。； or thereabouts…Judy had stowed his watch in his gym bag…his panions stirre