Thornhill heads for the front desk at the Plaza, but a large left hand grabs him by the shoulder.
“Hey, wait a minute,” says Roger. “What’s that supposed to be?”
“Car’s waiting outside,” replies Valerian. “You will walk between us, saying nothing.”
“What are you talking about?” asks Thornhill.
“Let’s go,” orders Licht. He points a small gun into Thornhill’s ribs.
“Let’s go?” says Roger,” Who – who are you?”
“Mere errand boys, carrying concealed weapons,” says Valerian.” His is pointed at your heart. So please, no errors of judgement, I beg of you.”
“Oh, come on, fellas,” says Thornhill,” what is this, a joke or something?”
“Yes, a joke,” says Licht. “We will laugh about it in the car.”
“Now, this is ridiculous,” says Thornhill, as the two men drag him toward the side exit.
The three men walk to the 60th Street exit of the Plaza. A 1958 Fleetwood 75 Cadillac is parked in front of the doorway. The two men put Thornhill in the back seat, still at gunpoint.
Licht closes the door, as the three of them sit in the back of the Cadillac. He puts the gun in his jacket pocket.
“Well,” says Thornhill,”Don’t tell me where we’re going – – surprise me!” He looks back at forth at his captors. “You know, I left some friends back there at the Oak Bar. They’re going to think I’m awfully rude! I mean, uh, couldn’t we stop off at a drug store for a moment, so that -“