"Kirby!"

"All right. All right." And he told her. There was, for once, no need for in-process editing. She listened carefully, thoughtfully.

"So she finally showed her teeth, did she?"

"My G.o.d, the last place I ever want to be is on that yacht. And it's a d.a.m.n strain to talk to somebody and not really know what you're talking about."

"I think you are a sweet lamb and I think you did very well. But where are we? Now she thinks you know what it is she's after. But you have no idea what it is?"

"Absolutely none."

"But now she knows she's either got to be awfully d.a.m.n cute to get it away from you, or awfully rough, or pay your full price, or come in as a partner. What does it sound like, whatever it is?"

"All I can think of, I swear, is some sort of an invention."

She nodded gravely. "That's where I've been going too. Years and years ago, he did try to invent things. And suddenly he became rich and powerful. He got an edge, a gimmick, something that works. I think that Charla and Joseph reasoned it all out by inference. Maybe they don't even know exactly what it is. But they could guess it could be written in his personal papers."

"And they think I know exactly what it is."

"Maybe it would be awfully useful right about now if you could lay your hands on it, Kirby."

He closed his eyes. "You know, I'm just about whipped. Everybody in the world thinks I've got twenty-seven million dollars squirreled away and they all want it. Just six people know I gave it all away. You, me, Wilma, Wintermore, Charla and Joseph. And I gave Charla the idea I'd kept some. But they want something else, and I don't know what it is, and you don't, and you seem to think they don't either."

"Leaves Wilma, doesn't it?"

He opened his eyes. "Could she know?"

"Maybe she could know without knowing she knows. Maybe she could have it without knowing she has it."

"Guess I better phone her."

He phoned Wilma. A man answered. He had a precise, high-pitched voice. "Who wishes to speak to her, please?"

He hesitated. Betsy was listening too. She nodded. "Kirby Winter."

"You wouldn't mind proving you're Mr. Winter?"

"How do you expect me to, "

"Just a moment, please. I must get the questions she wrote down. You can prove you are Mr. Winter by answering them correctly." He was gone for twenty seconds. "Are you there? Good. First, please give me the name of the man you were dealing with at the time of your uncle's death."

"Uh, Manuel Hernandez y Gomez."

"And the name of the man in Rangoon in December?"

"Oh. Dr. Na Dan Boala."

"Thank you, Mr. Winter. I suggested this precaution to my sister. She was in such a state of horrible emotional shock, she wasn't thinking with, her customary precision. I am Roger Farnham. She hoped you might call. Now, thank G.o.d, I shall be able to leave also. The hara.s.sment is sickening, as I guess you must have learned by this time. I must say, it is a grim reward for my sister's years of loyal faithful service to your uncle."

"I didn't have anything to, "

"I realize that, of course. And there is much about this I can't pretend to understand, sir. Wilma will tell me very little. But I do know, of course, she is, uh, incapable of hanky-panky."

"Yes. Of course."

"I'll doubtless be followed when I leave here, but I'll have the satisfaction of knowing I won't be leading them to Wilma. Do you know that the reporters actually badgered her into hysterics?"

"That's too bad."

"It took considerable guile to get her hidden safely away."

"I can imagine."

"And it would be a shame if you led the world to her hiding place."

"Ill certainly try not to."

"She's too delicate for this sort of thing. I'm leaving it up to you to do the right thing, and find some way out of this for her. Someone should be sued for the filthy hints they put in that interview."

"I don't think they'll be doing any more hinting."

"The damage is done, apparently. At any rate, sir, I have a home, a family and a profession to return to. Please tell her I cannot be expected to damage my own life in some vain attempt to a.s.sist her."

"Whereisshe?"

"You will be careful about contacting her? She does want to see you."

"I'll be very careful, Mr. Farnham."

"I smuggled her to the house of one of my a.s.sociates, Mr. Winter. He is on a sabbatical leave in France, and he left the key with me. Unfortunately the phone is disconnected. Have you a pencil? Two-ten Sunset Way, Hallandale. It has considerable privacy due to the plantings Professor Wellerly arranged with that in mind. A small pink house. She has food and water, and she should be quite safe there, from the rabble and the curiosity seekers. But she is upset, naturally. Give a long ring then a short and then a long, and she will know it is either you or me, sir. She will open the door to no one else. And I believe I am right in saying we are both depending on you to do something to clear up this unfortunate situation."

"Thank you."

"Not at all, sir. It's my duty to my sister. Good evening."

"Well now!" Betsy said as he hung up. "How cozy you'll be! In your wittle pink housey."

"So how do I get there?"

"I can't say that I really care how you get to Hallandale, friend."

"In this uniform?"

"Bernie Sabbith is almost your size, and there is a whole closet loaded with stuff. Be his guest."

"She wouldn't think of letting me stay in that house with her."

"You're kidding!"