Once the initial fear was gone, she found the whole concept funnier than hell. What do cops do for fun at a convention? she wondered. Arrest each other? Beat each other up? Sly relaxed so much that she had difficulty not bursting out laughing when a British Aide Firm exec—a dwarf wearing a bright scarlet jacket, a sash, and a kilt— boarded the elevator on the tenth floor on his way up to a hospitality suite on the fifteenth.