I climbed the steps to the foyer, with the package under my arm. "Forget what I looked like and get rid of this before they ask you what happened to the seals," I told the doorman, handing him the thousand in fifties. His eyes widened at the feel of the crisp bills.
I replaced the fuse and we descended to the lobby. I had to wait while a man and woman passed through it, and then I walked through the heavy glass doors out onto the sidewalk. I had to walk five blocks before I found a mailbox with a wide enough opening to accept the wrapped package. It hit the bottom of the box with a satisfying thump.
I looked at my watch.
I had twenty-five minutes to have breakfast before I was due at Erikson's office.
Erikson would know what happened to the seals when he heard about it.
On that count and several others I was due to get plenty of jawbone from Karl Erikson, but for once I didn't care.