'But what harm can it do? Let's just look inside.'

'I know what's inside,' said Butcher. He glared at Ray. 'It's the latest recording from Lady Silk. Another copy to replace the one I confiscated.' He looked at the frightened soldier. 'I've been waiting a long time to find out who was smuggling in this contraband. The source of supply.'

'You've got it all wrong man,' said Ray, shaking his head mournfully. The Doctor moved forward and, before the Major could stop him, he had picked up the rucksack.

'Put that down,' said Butcher.

'Not until we've tested your theory, Major.' The Doctor calmly opened the rucksack and began to empty it. 'I'm a scientist and that's what scientists do.

We test theories.' He spread the contents of the rucksack on the gra.s.s. It consisted of clothing, some magazines with pictures of girls in bathing suits on the covers, and a large brown paper bag. For all his protests, Major Butcher watched the emptying of the rucksack as avidly as everyone else.63.

The Doctor finished taking things out and held the rucksack up to show that it was empty. 'That's all, Major. No subversive music.'

'What's in the paper bag?' said Butcher. The Doctor bent down and opened the bag and peered inside. He looked up and grinned. 'What is it?'

The Doctor reached into the bag and took out a handful of small brown thorns. 'Cactus needles.'

'What?' said Butcher.

'I tried to tell you, man,' said Ray. 'That's why I was meeting Dobbsy here.

It was a business transaction, baby. He was helping me out. It was nothing to do with Lady Silk.'

'I don't buy it,' said Butcher stubbornly.

'That's what he was doing Major,' said the Doctor. 'Can't you see? He was buying cactus needles. He needs them.'

'He needs needles?' said Butcher.

'That is correct. He needs them for his record player.'

'That's right, man,' said Ray.

'It isn't a crime, buying cactus needles, is it?' said Ace.

Butcher looked at her, then he looked at the others. He lowered his gun and reluctantly holstered it. 'Give me back the handcuffs.' Ray handed them to him and Butcher returned them to his pocket, then he kicked at the pile of belongings on the ground. 'Pack these up and get out of here, Private.'

Dobbs instantly fell to his knees and scrabbled on the ground, scooping his possessions back into the rucksack, along with several fistfuls of gra.s.s that he uprooted in his haste.

'Leave the needles, though, man,' said Ray. Private Dobbs left the bag of cactus needles on the ground, shouldered his rucksack, and turned and fled.

'I'll send payment to you, Dobbsy,' shouted Ray at his retreating back. He turned to Major Butcher and looked at him reproachfully. 'You scared old Dobbsy off, man. My best cactus-needle connection and you've gone and scared him off.'

Butcher squared his shoulders and got ready to offer a blistering response, but before he could say anything Ace heard a strangely familiar cracking sound and felt an odd, humming breeze whisper past her face. Then she felt the Doctor grab her and throw her to the ground. As she registered a sense of deja vu deja vu, Ace realised what was happening.

'Someone's shooting!' yelled the Doctor. 'Get down!'

'Shooting, man?' said Ray. Butcher threw himself on Ray and dragged him to the ground. Ace heard another cracking sound a gunshot then another one. She saw a spurt of dirt jet up from the ground just in front of her and realised that the gunshots were aimed at her, or perhaps the Doctor, who was lying on the gra.s.s next to her. Then there was another gunshot, followed in 64racketing succession by half a dozen more, all extremely close at hand. It took Ace an instant to recognise that these shots were coming from Butcher's gun. He was lying on the ground, blasting away at the distant clump of trees by the water's edge. The gunshots that were kicking up the dirt near Ace and the Doctor seemed to be coming from those trees. Ace thought she saw movement among them, a dark figure stepping between the shadowed trunks, but she wasn't sure.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the shooting stopped. 'Got him,' said Butcher with satisfaction. He rose to his feet and started quickly towards the trees. The Doctor got up swiftly and followed. Ace was left lying on the gra.s.s, staring at Ray. The big man was on his belly, his arms over his head, staring back at her. They regarded each other for a moment and then Ray said, 'I'm out of here, man.' He lurched to his knees, then to his feet and set off clumsily running away from the pond. Then he stopped, hesitated for a moment, and came back.

For a second Ace thought he was coming back to gallantly help her, but instead he scooped up the bag of cactus needles, stuffed it into his pocket and set off again in an ungainly run. Ace got up and brushed the gra.s.s off her clothing. The Doctor was coming back from the copse of trees. He had something in his hands. He hurried over to Ace and showed it to her. It was a large square envelope of a kind Ace had seen before.

She said, 'Where '

The Doctor interrupted her. 'Please. Just hide it for me.' Ace took the envelope from him, untucked her blouse, and slipped it inside. The envelope was angular and uncomfortable against her skin, but the folds of her blouse concealed it effectively enough. 'Thank you,' said the Doctor. He turned and headed back for the trees. Ace followed him.

Butcher came out of the stand of trees. His face was white and he was wearing a strange expression. In fact, he looked like an altogether different man from the one Ace had come to know. The ruddy, bullying, antagonistic Major Butcher was gone. This man was pale, drawn and uncertain. He looked at Ace and then looked away, his face haggard and tormented. Ace stepped into the cl.u.s.ter of trees and he made no attempt to stop her.

The Doctor was standing there. At his feet was a figure in a leather jacket and dungarees. But it wasn't a man. It was a woman. It took Ace a moment to recognise her face, because the hair and the clothes were so different.

'Rosalita,' she said. The Doctor looked at her and nodded. Ace struggled to understand what was happening. 'The gunman shot Rosalita?' she said. The Doctor shook his head sadly.

'The gunman was was Rosalita.' Rosalita.'

65.

Ace emerged from the stand of trees. Major Butcher was standing there, exactly where she'd left him. He looked like he might remain standing there for the rest of his life. The Doctor came out of the trees and went to Butcher. 'Did you get her firearm, Major?'

Butcher vaguely touched his pocket. 'It's in here. A .38. She was getting pretty good accuracy from it at that distance. She was a good shot for a woman.'

'Major,' said the Doctor distinctly and firmly, 'there was nothing else you could do. You did what had to be done. She was shooting at us. She was trying to kill us. You saved our lives.'

Butcher shook his head. 'I know all that,' he said. 'But it doesn't make me feel any better about shooting a woman.'

'You had no choice. Now if you don't mind, Ace is understandably upset by this terrible experience. I am going to take her away.' Ace thought this was just a ruse by the Doctor. Then she realised that she was was upset by the terrible experience. Her knees began to tremble and her stomach felt loose and queasy. upset by the terrible experience. Her knees began to tremble and her stomach felt loose and queasy.

Butcher smiled thinly. 'Sure, you clear out of here. I've got to tell the Oppenheimers that they need a new cook.'

Ace waited until they were out of Butcher's sight before she took the square envelope out of her blouse. The paper of the envelope was soaked through with her sweat. 'Do you want to look at this?'

The Doctor took the envelope from her. 'Not really,' he said. 'In the words of Major Butcher, I know what's inside.'

'A record by Lady Silk,' said Ace.

'Yes.'

'So Rosalita was smuggling in the records to Ray. She was the source of supply.'

'Yes.'

Ace made a sudden connection. 'So that day when I was in Ray's apartment, she was the one who delivered the record to him. Which means she was also the one who took a shot at us from the balcony.'

'Yes.'

Ace paused and looked at the Doctor accusingly. 'You knew it was her.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'No. I merely suspected, and only since last night.'

'Why did you suspect her?'

But the Doctor had fallen silent. A man was hastening towards them up the dusty road, waving to them. Although he was moving quickly, even at this remove the man appeared relaxed and smug and full of himself. He was dressed 66in a mustard-coloured three-piece suit and highly polished black brogues that were already succ.u.mbing to the dusty Los Alamos road surface. He didn't have the demeanour of a man hurrying to them because of the shooting. And, judging from the fact that he was approaching from the opposite direction, Ace concluded that he wasn't yet even aware of the incident up at the pond.

As the man drew closer Ace recognised him as Professor Henbest, the Hill's psychiatrist; the man who had cornered her at the party and seemed so un-wholesomely interested in making her a subject for hypnosis.

'I've been looking everywhere for you two,' said Henbest cheerily.

'Really?' said the Doctor. 'Why is that?'

'Your psych profiles.'

'Our what?'

'Psych profiles. Interviews. Everyone who joins the project above a certain level has to have one. An evaluation. A psychological evaluation. You can't work here without one. And you're both overdue. So let me show you immediately to my rather pleasant office.'

Henbest's office was in one of the prefabricated huts that looked like a section of giant corrugated pipe split in half lengthways then set on the ground. But, inside, the place was indeed quite pleasant. There was a window that afforded a view of the water glinting peacefully on the pond and the trees waving gently in the breeze. At this distance the scene looked peaceful, a rural idyll.

The office walls were bare metal but were hung with French impressionist masterpieces. These were reproductions, of course, but the oddments of pre-Colombian pottery that littered the office were real enough. Some of these unique small masterpieces were in active use as ashtrays.

The floors of the office were carpeted and there was a bulky wooden desk placed diagonally across it, isolating an alcove of bookshelves, a sort of miniature library area. There were two floor lamps glowing in the alcove, another one beside the desk and one each beside the modernist yellow leather sofa with brown trim and the two matching brown armchairs with yellow trim.

The armchairs looked very comfortable to Ace, who was fed up, had sore feet and generally felt like crying. She had been shot at, seen a dead rat and received a mash note from a detestable boffin all in the course of the same day.

Now she was facing a psychiatric evaluation.

But at least she was facing it in a comfortable armchair. The Doctor was sitting in the matching chair beside her. However, instead of slouching back luxuriously like Ace, he was leaning forward, tense and ready, like a grey-hound bristling to start a race. John Henbest sat behind his desk in front of 67them and shifted restlessly back and forth on a swivel chair. He kept swivelling in the chair for a few moments before settling in comfortably and saying, 'Prefatory to giving you your individual interviews I'd like to talk to you briefly together.'

Ace wondered if they were in for a lecture about the rapacity of venereal disease, but her speculations were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone on Henbest's desk. He leaned forward and answered it. 'Yes. In fact I'm What? What? What? My G.o.d. Really? My G.o.d. I'll be there right away.' He hung up the phone and looked at them excitedly. 'I have to go. Somebody apparently took a shot at Major Butcher up by the pond.'

'How extraordinary,' said the Doctor.

'Well, what do you know?' said Ace.

Henbest hastily clattered out of the office, leaving the Doctor and Ace sitting there in a peaceful silence. The Doctor eased back from his position of athletic readiness, slumping in his armchair, and turned to look at Ace. 'It seems our psychological evaluations are to be postponed.'

'They can't be postponed long enough for my liking. Did you hear what he said? Someone took a shot at Major Butcher. Not a word about us. And it was us she was shooting at.'

'That suits our purposes, Ace. It's better if the Major believes he was the sole target. It helps us in the same way as concealing that envelope I found near Rosalita's body.'

'And remind me why we concealed that.'

'Because it would have const.i.tuted a clear connection between Cosmic Ray and Rosalita. But since Major Butcher didn't see the envelope containing the record, he only knows that Rosalita was the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin. He doesn't know she was also the local source of Lady Silk's subversive recordings. And since he also doesn't know she took a shot at us outside Ray's building, he can believe that he was her sole target. She becomes an open-and-shut case.

I believe that's the expression. He uses it frequently enough in his books. In any event it signifies a crime that's solved as soon as it's discovered.'

'I know what it signifies. What I don't know is why you're protecting Ray. If he's involved with Rosalita and she was some kind of enemy agent. . . '

'And it certainly appears she was.'

'Then he must be some kind of enemy agent too.'

'Yes, Ace. But what kind?' The Doctor smiled grimly. 'That is what we must find out.'

'All right. Let's do that then, you and me, but working together as a team.

No more keeping me in the dark.'

'Ace, I'm telling you as much as I can, as soon as I can.'68.

'No you're not. You're just stringing me along as usual, and hoping I'll be the faithful stooge who keeps her mouth shut.'

The Doctor chuckled. 'Well if that's my hope, it's certainly been a forlorn one throughout the long and eventful years of our partnership.'

Ace stared at him for a moment, then broke out giggling. 'All right,' she said.

'Maybe it is a bit. Listen, I'm just asking you to explain things a bit more.'

'Such as what kind of things?'

'Such as why you suspected Rosalita in the first place.'

'Do you remember the dead rat Oppy showed us? The poisoned rat?'

'Of course.'

'There was a rubbish bin beside it. Did that bin look familiar to you?'

'It looked like the one in Rosalita's kitchen. . . we saw it there last night.'

'The one in which she disposed of the chilli.'

'Yes.'

'Think Ace, think.' The Doctor leaned close to her, his extraordinary eyes blazing. Ace had to avoid looking into the unsettling depths of those eyes if she was indeed going to think. 'The chilli was in the bin,' his voice was relentless, forging links of logic, like links in an iron chain. 'The rat ate it and died. So the chilli was poisoned. Which implies. . . ?'

'That Rosalita poisoned the chilli. Because when she didn't manage to shoot me or you, whoever she was shooting at. . . '

'In all modesty she was probably shooting at me,' said the Doctor.

'So when she didn't manage to shoot you she tried to poison you. But I was going to eat the chilli, too. Just like I was in the firing line when she was shooting.'

'All right Ace, if it will make you happy, she was trying to kill both of us both of us.'

'But she didn't give us the poisoned chilli. She dropped it on the floor.'

'Not a very convincing accident, was it?' The Doctor got up from his armchair and went over to Henbest's desk.

'Fooled me. So she dropped it on the floor deliberately. But why?'