“Huh,” Larry grunted. “The way I hear it, your whole department has given up, so I’m assigned to help you out of your usual fumble-fingered confusion.”
Hackett snorted. “At any rate, can you drop over? I’m to work in liaison with you.”
“Coming,” Larry said. He hung up, got to his feet and headed for the door. If they could crack this thing the first day, he’d take up that vacation where it’d been interrupted and possibly be able to wangle a few more days out of the Boss to boot.
At this time of day, parking would have been a problem, in spite of automation of the streets. He left his car in the departmental lot and took a cab.
* * * *
The Counterfeit Division of the Secret Service occupied an impressive section of an impressive governmental building. Larry Woolford flashed his credent
