A crowd was gathering around the executive, some clapping him on the back for a job well done. Sheckley heard someone ask where the man's guards were. The question was met with a stony silence and tight gaze from several others in the gathering.
Miss Hays, upon surveying the carnage, turned back to Sheckley, still in the office doorway, and said, "There. That's how it's done, Mr. Sheckley." She then thrust the revolver into his hand and pointed.
"Mr. Peterson's office is down that hallway. Room 1218. On your left. You can't miss it."
Or him, apparently, Sheckley thought. He turned down the corridor, turned another corner and, out of Miss Hays' view, dropped the gun in the trash and walked quickly towards the elevator bank nearby. He pushed the down button and waited nervously.
A comely blonde walked up to Sheckley just as the elevator bell dinged and the doors opened.
"You must be that nice Mr. Sheckley I've been hearing about," the blonde said. She had a heavy Southern accent that not even Berlitz could have gotten rid of. And she had the gun in her hand.
Miss Hays, upon surveying the carnage, turned back to Sheckley, still in the office doorway, and said, "There. That's how it's done, Mr. Sheckley." She then thrust the revolver into his hand and pointed.
"Mr. Peterson's office is down that hallway. Room 1218. On your left. You can't miss it."
Or him, apparently, Sheckley thought. He turned down the corridor, turned another corner and, out of Miss Hays' view, dropped the gun in the trash and walked quickly towards the elevator bank nearby. He pushed the down button and waited nervously.
A comely blonde walked up to Sheckley just as the elevator bell dinged and the doors opened.
"You must be that nice Mr. Sheckley I've been hearing about," the blonde said. She had a heavy Southern accent that not even Berlitz could have gotten rid of. And she had the gun in her hand.
