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Bayer nodded Thank you, left the window, and walked toward the front door, making what he hoped was an inconspicuous glance over at Koch. He saw that Koch was still in line, with two people between him and the window.
“It’s that way!” Bayer heard his ticket woman say.
He turned to look at her.
“The passenger boarding
ramp is that way,” she called, helpfully, pointing toward the ornamental iron gates. “Track 20.”
Bayer waved and nodded, mouthing Thank you.
He went out the front door.
When he got to the truck, Cremer and Grossman were standing on either side of the cargo area, looking anxious. Grossman was closing up his duffel.
“Where’s Koch?” Cremer said.
“Still in line getting the backup tickets.” He discreetly set the two orange sleeves with their tickets in the cargo area. “These are the ones to Atlanta and on to Birmingham. It leaves in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Grossman repeated.
He snatched up a sleeve, stuffed it into his coat pocket, then pulled his duffel out of the truck and swung it onto his shoulder.
“Forget the backup tickets,” Grossman said, adjusting his fedora and walking toward the building.
Bayer said, “Where are you going?”
“To take a leak and catch a train.”
Cremer looked at Grossman, then at Bayer, and shrugged. He grabbed his tickets and a duffel.
“Tell Koch thanks.” He offered his hand, and as they shook he said, “Take care of yourself, Kurt.”
“And you, Rudolf.” He looked toward Grossman. “Watch yourself with him.”
Cremer smiled. He waited a moment until Grossman blended in with the crowd that was entering the building, then followed.
Grossman entered the main waiting area of the terminal building. As he scanned the room, looking for a restroom sign, he saw Richard Koch walking away from the ticket windows. They locked eyes a moment, and Grossman shook his head, then immediately turned and walked in a direction away from Koch.
Just before the iron gates leading to the trains, Grossman saw a sign reading MEN. He entered and found a stall at the far end empty, then squeezed into it with his duffel and closed the door, sliding the latch to lock it.
Two minutes later, his bladder and his duffel both somewhat lighter, he exited the stall.
An anxious young man started for it, but Grossman, wrinkling his face, waved the young man off as he spiked a piece of paper on the coat hook attached to the outside of the door.
The paper, scrawled in heavy pencil, read: “Out of Order.”
Koch went out the front entrance of the terminal about the time Cremer entered it, but neither saw the other in the crowd.
Bayer was at the truck, waiting in the passenger’s seat, when Koch got there. Koch got in behind the wheel.
When Bayer had explained what had happened to the other two agents, Koch did not seem surprised or upset.
“Good riddance,” Koch said.
Koch shifted the truck’s gearbox into neutral, then depressed the starter pedal on the floorboard. Nothing happened. He pressed it again and again nothing.
“Dead battery?” Bayer said.
