Julian Vance took the glowing dashboard lighter from Mac Cole’s hand.
The orange ceramic coil threw a harsh circle of heat across Julian’s fingers. He dropped to one knee beside the brass pedestal of the Duncan fare-box.
Outside the chain-link security gate, the unmuffled V8 engine of Van N-3 roared like an iron beast.
“Five seconds, Julian!” Lin Mei shouted from the driver’s platform. “Their tires are smoking! The driver is dropping the clutch!”
“Hold your position, Lin!” Julian called back. “Keep that typewriter frame steady!”
“The frame is locked in the dash bracket!” Lin Mei answered. “Type-bar is aligned for the hospital index! But the wax is two inches thick!”
“Then I’ll melt every grain of it!” Julian said.
He jammed the beveled edge of his Store #04 brass cash-drawer key against the glowing lighter coil. The solid brass heated up in two seconds flat.
