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Everybody tiptoed around the note very carefully, as though it might explode at any moment. Everybody handled the note with tweezers or white cotton gloves. Everybody agreed it should be sent at once to the police lab. Everybody read it at least twice. Everybody studied it and examined it. Even some patrolmen from downstairs came up to have a look at it. It was a very important document. It demanded at least an hour of valuable police time before it was finally encased in a celluloid folder and sent downtown in a manila envelope.

Everybody decided that what this note meant was that the deaf man (who they now reluctantly admitted was once again in their midst) wanted fifty thousand dollars in lieu of killing the deputy mayor exactly as he had killed the parks commissioner. Since fifty thousand dollars was considerably more than the previous demand for five thousand dollars, the cops of the 87th were quite rightfully incensed by the demand. Moreover, the audacity of this criminal somewhere out there was something beyond the ken of their experience. For all its resemblance to a kidnaping, with its subsequent demand for ransom, this case was not a kidnaping. No one had been abducted, there was nothing to ransom. No, this was very definitely extortion, and yet the extortion cases they'd dealt with over the years had been textbook cases involving "a wrongful use of force or fear" in an attempt to obtain "property from another." The key word was "another." "Another" was invariably the person against whom mayhem had been threatened. In this case, though, their extortionist didn't seem to care who paid the money so long as someone did.

Anyone. Now how were you supposed to deal with a maniac like that?

"He's a maniac," Lieutenant Byrnes said. "Where the hell does he expect us to get fifty thousand dollars?"

Steve Carella, who had been released from the hospital that afternoon and who somewhat resembled a boxer about to put on gloves, what with assorted bandages taped around his hands, said, "Maybe he expects the deputy mayor to pay it."

"Then why the hell didn't he ask the deputy mayor?"

"We're his intermediaries," Carella said. "He assumes his demand will carry more weight if it comes from law enforcement officers."

Byrnes looked at Carella.

"Sure," Carella said. "Also, he's getting even with us. He's sore because we fouled up his bank-robbing scheme eight years ago. This is his way of getting back."

"He's a maniac," Byrnes insisted.

"No, he's a very smart cookie," Carella said. "He knocked off Cowper after a measly demand for five thousand dollars. Now that we know he can do it, he's asking ten times the price not to shoot the deputy mayor."

"Where does it say 'shoot'?" Hawes asked.

"Hmmm?"

"He didn't say anything about shooting Scanlon. The note yesterday just said 'Deputy Mayor Scanlon Goes Next." '

"That's right," Carella said. "He can poison him or bludgeon him or stab him or …"

"Please," Byrnes said.

"Let's call Scanlon," Carella suggested. "Maybe he's got fifty grand laying around he doesn't know what to do with."

They called Deputy Mayor Scanlon and advised him of the threat upon his life, but Deputy Mayor Scanlon did not have fifty grand laying around he didn't know what to do with. Ten minutes later, the phone on Byrnes' desk rang. It was the police commissioner.

"All right, Byrnes," the commissioner said sweetly, "what's this latest horseshit?"

"Sir," Byrnes said, "we have had two notes from the man we suspect killed Parks Commissioner Cowper, and they constitute a threat upon the life of Deputy Mayor Scalon."

"What are you doing about it?" the commissioner asked.

"Sir," Byrnes said, "we have already sent both notes to the police laboratory for analysis. Also, sir, we have located the room from which the shots were fired last night, and we have reason to believe we are dealing with a criminal known to this precinct?"

"Who?"

"We don't know."

"I thought you said he was known …"

"Yes, sir, we've dealt with him before, but to our knowledge, sir, he is unknown."

"How much money does he want this time?"

"Fifty thousand dollars, sir."

"When is Scanlon supposed to be killed?"

"We don't know, sir."

"When does this man want his money?"

"We don't know, sir."

"Where are you supposed to deliver it?"

"We don't know, sir."

"What the hell do you know, Byrnes?"

"I know, sir, that we are doing our best to cope with an unprecedented situation, and that we are ready to put our entire squad at the deputy mayor's disposal, if and when he asks for protection. Moreover, sir, I'm sure I can persuade Captain Frick who, as you may know, commands this entire precinct … "

"What do you mean, as I may know, Byrnes?"

"That is the way we do it in this city, sir."

"That is the way they do it in most cities, Byrnes."

"Yes, sir, of course. In any case, I'm sure I can persuade him to release some uniformed officers from their regular duties, or perhaps to call in some off-duty officers, if the commissioner feels that's necessary."