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on the street, I popped up from the pavement with skinned knees and plenty of time to reach the driver-side door before he could.
    All at once, from maybe three feet away, he brought the attaché case up with his right hand, more or less horizontally over his left shoulder. He swung it at me sideways. It caught me right in the puss. The top edge smashed the bridge of my nose, and the lower edge split my upper lip. By sheer reflex I got a grip on the case with both hands as it creamed me. My fanny smacked the pavement hard, but the case came with me. The momentum of my tumble tore the handle out his grasp.
    I was blinded for just an instant. My vision cleared in time for me to see him hesitating between the open car door and the top of the chassis, wondering if he could grab the case back. My blood was up and I kind of hoped he’d try.
    He didn’t. He had the sense to duck into the car and concede the attaché case to me. You keep the case and let us get away. Last, best, and final offer. I took it.

Chapter Seven
    Jay Davidovich
    Maybe I could have stopped him if I’d dropped the case, but I had two more important things to worry about. The attaché case was only the second. I climbed gingerly to my feet with it firmly in hand as the car roared away.
    The afternoon’s events fell into a clear pattern in my throbbing head. The two dudes I’d just scrimmaged with had no way of knowing that Proxy would check in while Szulz was headed home with the Corolla on his tail. When she got to the hotel the phony panhandler had grabbed her attaché case after urgently summoning the Corolla to scurry back and pick him up. Proxy hadn’t been in the vicinity when I’d spotted him, which meant he hadn’t just pulled a snatch-and-grab. He must have done something to incapacitate her. That made finding her Job-one.
    Blood streaming from my nose and oozing from my lip, I hustled toward the Omni’s main entrance. The parking valet seemed to be bracing himself behind his little portable counter to the right of the front door as he put down a phone.
    â€œI need to talk to hotel security, fast!”
    â€œI think you can count on it, buddy.”
    He nodded toward the door, where a black guy almost as tall as I am and with similar musculature was coming out in a hurry. His left hand held a two-way radio, and his right was parked underneath his gray sport coat.
    â€œSir, may I see some—?”
    â€œJay Davidovich, Transoxana Insurance.” I slapped a business card and my old military ID on the counter and held up the attaché case. “That weasel slapping me around on the street just now stole this from my colleague, Proxy Shifcos. Must’ve jumped her while she was going into her room after checking in. We need to find her pronto. If he conked her head, we don’t have any time to waste.”
    He glanced at my ID and then, mouth slightly open, turned dark brown eyes with gold rims around the irises toward me.
    â€œYou said her name is what, now?”
    I bit back frustrated epithets and fought the urge to yell at him.
    â€œShifcos, Proxeine Violet.” I spelled Shifcos for him. “Probably checked in within the last half-hour.”’
    Raising the radio to his lips, he nodded slightly to me while he spoke into it. He had to go back and forth twice with whoever was on the other end, but he finally got something that apparently verified Proxy’s check-in. Lowering the radio, he turned his steady gaze on the valet parker.
    â€œCall Mr. Blue in Guest Relations and give him a status report.”
    â€œRoger that,” the valet said, as if he’d just joined Seal Team Six.
    â€œAll right.” The security guy’s head turned back toward me. “Let’s go.”
    He opened the door for me because no way was he letting me get behind him. I followed his discreetly whispered directions to the middle bank of elevators by a route that wouldn’t