the smuggler’s bible

Lowen

They step out of the cab in front of the hotel, and Lowen is aware. You always recognize your own. Malkin grumbles about his leg on the marble steps. They slide in through the wide doors and across the lobby, dragging a shadow in their wake.

They are silent in the elevator. Finally, Malkin sighs. “Just one, I think.”

“Just one,” Lowen says.

“It’s three floors. He could beat us at a run.”

“A sprinter wouldn’t have waited out front. He’d already be in the hall.”

“Might be a team.”

Lowen shakes his head. “Roger’s favorites never play well together.”