The Night Crew

he said. Bunny Films was on the second floor of a shabby fifties concrete-and-brick low-rise office building, with a narrow parking lot wrapped around the building. There was one car in the lot, but it carried an air of abandonment. No lights showed in the building.
    ‘‘Come back tomorrow,’’ Harper said.
    ‘‘Let’s not rush off,’’ Anna said. ‘‘Pull around behind the building. I want to check that door.’’
    ‘‘Felonies are a Bad Thing,’’ Harper said. ‘‘I’m sure counselor Norden would agree.’’
    ‘‘I just want to look at the door,’’ Anna said. ‘‘Maybe somebody’s around, they’d let us in.’’
    ‘‘Ah, man,’’ Harper said, but when Anna asked, ‘‘Who climbed over that fence and got shot at, who broke into that house, who . . .’’ he said, ‘‘Okay, okay,’’ and pulled around back and into a parking space with a ‘‘Reserved for Building Tenant’’ sign. Norden and Anna got out, and Norden said, ‘‘Got shot at?’’ while Harper waited in the car, engine running.
    ‘‘We’ve had a couple of problems,’’ Anna said. The door was locked: they could see the steel tongue between the door and the frame. ‘‘Not very far in there,’’ Norden said,
stooping to peer at the lock. ‘‘It’s sort of tilted up. I bet if you stuck a screwdriver or a tire iron in there, you could pry the door right open.’’
    ‘‘Back in a minute,’’ Anna said. At the car, she said, ‘‘Hey, Jake, pop the trunk for a minute.’’
    ‘‘Why?’’
    ‘‘I want to look at your golf shoes. Pop the trunk.’’
    ‘‘Damn it, Anna . . .’’ But he popped the trunk, and the tool kit was there, in the trunk lid, just as she remembered from the last time she’d been in the trunk, a few seconds before she’d been attacked in the parking lot. She turned the hand screw on the tool-box cover, the cover dropped open. She selected a screwdriver, closed the trunk and walked back to the door.
    ‘‘What do you think?’’ she asked Norden.
    Norden cast a quick look around. A stream of cars was passing on the street, a half-dozen teenagers were lounging around a picnic table at a Foster’s Freeze a hundred feet down the street. Norden said, ‘‘Don’t make any big moves and do it quick.’’
    Anna stuck the end of the screwdriver in the gap between the door and the frame, put her weight against it, and when the tongue pulled out of the lock, Norden jerked the door open.
    ‘‘Talk about irresponsible,’’ Norden said, looking at the door. ‘‘I’m surprised the junkies haven’t carried off the furniture.’’
    ‘‘Probably scared to,’’ Harper said. He’d killed the engine, and walked up behind them. ‘‘We’re right out in the open, probably nine people calling the cops right now.’’
    ‘‘Door was open,’’ Norden said.
    ‘‘Yeah, right. Screwdriver marks all over it, and we’ve still got the screwdriver.’’ Harper pulled the door tight against the frame, took the screwdriver from Anna, pried the frame and door apart again, and popped the lock tongue back into place. ‘‘When I was in uniform, we’d rattle doors, but we’d never try to get inside if the doors were locked,’’ he said.
    No Bunny Films was listed on the directory, but they found a Harnett Enterprises on a row of painted steel mailboxes next to the front entrance. The number indicated an office on the second floor. They skipped the small elevator and climbed a dark, smoke-scented stairway, found a light switch for the second floor and followed a narrow hallway to the end. The office had only a number, but no other identification. An empty name-plate holder was screwed to the wall next to the door.
    ‘‘Well, shit,’’ Harper said. ‘‘Maybe he moved.’’
    ‘‘Maybe he just doesn’t want people to know where he is,’’ Anna said. ‘‘If this is his office, there’s gotta be something inside with his home address.
    Harper looked up and down the hall, shook his head, put his back against the wall opposite the door, his foot next to the doorknob, and pushed. The lock ripped out of the door, and they were in.
    ‘‘If the cops come, we’re busted,’’ he said, flipping on the lights. ‘‘Let’s make it quick. And for Christ’s sake, don’t touch anything with your fingertips if you can help it.’’ Harnett’s office was one large room with a desk in the center, filing cabinets around the edge and a small sofa and easy chair