“If you had had a gun-would you have shot me?” he asked. The close – brush with the possibility of death still shocked him.

“I’m sorry.” I really was. “It was just about the only thing I could think of at the time. Those police are bad news.” I looked out of the window at the kangaroodle parked close by. With a big number plate on its rump. “Can that thing be traced by its number?”

“It could-if that was the right number. Mr. Puissanto is very thorough. Purchased legally, but the plates are false. This building is rented under a dummy company.”

I looked around. An office like any other, but heavy on computers and files. Bolivar took off his head and looked around as well. “Do you have a water cooler around here?” he asked. Memories of Poison Pete still searing his throat.

“Other room, through that door.” Bolivar left.

“I want to use your telephone,” I said.

“I’ll have to bill you for the call.”

“Yes, of course, whatever you say.” I dug out my wallet. Regretting breaking my lifelong rule of never associating with accountants or tax authorities. I dialed the number which rang and rang. And with every unanswered ring my body temperature dropped a degree. Why wasn’t Angelina in the dressing room? In the end I dialed the box office.”

“This is the Waldorf-Castoria,” I said in what I hope was a disguised voice. “I have a message for one of our guests. A Mrs. DiGriz—”

“Not here.”

“But where?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. I had a quick glimpse of her when she left with her friends. They drove away in a large black car.”

I was facing the window as I spoke. The rain had stopped so I could clearly see in the glow of the streetlight a long black car easing to a stop outside. I put down the phone and moved out of sight of the window, concerned.

“Are you expecting anybody?” I asked.

“Just Puissanto. He said that he would get here as soon as the police were gone.”

I heard the car door slam-then someone knocked on the door.

“That’s not Puissanto—he got keys!”

“Stall! You’re here alone.” I grabbed up Bolivar’s head and slipped into the next room.

“Just a minute,” Paka said; I heard him unlock the door. “We’re closed, it’s after hours.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll come in anyway.”

That voice, somehow familiar-but who?”

“You can’t come in-squeak! Is that … a real gun?”

“I assure you that it is. May I?”

Another squeal. Paka was not having a good day with guns. Real or otherwise.

“Where is he?”

“I’m alone!”

“Paka, you are not a very efficient liar. Besides, I have had a tap on your phone for quite a while. I heard you arrange to pick up a certain individual.”

Individual? I tried to remember my conversation with Paka. Had I mentioned Bolivar? I handed Bolivar his head and put my finger to my lips, cozening him to silence. If the gunman didn’t know he was here he still had a chance. He nodded his head-I waved him back, then opened the door.

“What do you want?” I asked.

The man with the silver-plated and pearl-handled gun turned to me and smiled.

Chaise! Imperetrix Von Kaiser-Czarski. My employer.

“You seem to have gotten yourself into a bit of trouble, Jim. You and your family. That is not like you.”

“Why the gun?” The black opening of the barrel was trained on my midriff.

“You are a man who is wanted by the police. Perhaps it is for my own protection.”

“You are lying; Chaise. I have a feeling that you have never told me the truth at any time.”

He smiled. “Occasionally, Jim, just occasionally. And I have always paid you on time.”

“Might I ask why you bugged the phone here?”

“That should be obvious. As a man of finance I always like to know what the tax authorities are up to.” I heard someone come in through the outside door. Chaise raised the gun. “Nothing foolish now. Just turn around and put out your arms.”

I did. The handcuffs snapped shut on my wrists. The grinning thug was very familiar.

“Igor!” It was the truck driver who had taken us to the porcuswine farm.

“Igor, indeed,” Chaise said. “I like to keep track of my employees. Now, if you please, take a chair while we have a little picture show.”

He put the holoplay on the desk and actuated it. A holographic image appeared in the air above it.

Angelina! Then she spoke.

“When you see this, Jim, don’t do anything sudden or foolish,” the image said, then grew smaller as the camera drew back. A masked man stood pointing a gun at her. I could now see that her hands were tied. The image flickered and moved and Gloriana appeared, slavering and angry; she was securely tied by her hind legs and immobile. Another shift and Angelina appeared again. She was coldly angry, snapping out her words.

“It is Chaise. He is probably there with you now. Here is what he told me to say. Obey his orders. Do what he says. If you don’t he promises to kill Gloriana at once.”

She was livid with rage and could barely speak the words.

“If that doesn’t convince you-he said that I would be next.”

This is the sort of situation that I really do not like to be in. All right; I admit that I have been here before. But no matter how many times you get a gun pointed at you, with a quavering finger on the trigger, you don’t really get used to it. And usually I had been alone when threatened. Now my family was involved and in danger. About the only tiny ray of hope in this situation was the fact that Chaise didn’t know Bolivar was in the other room. I looked at Paka and he looked back in silence; he wasn’t going to mention Bolivar’s presence. The tiny photon of light in the current pall of gloom. I was certainly less than happy with this last turn of events. But losing my temper wasn’t going to help in any way. That’s it Jim, under control, speak quietly but firmly.

“You are calling the shots, Chaise. But let us get one thing straight at the very beginning. If my wife suffers even the slightest injury, it will mean that you have signed your death certificate.”

“You are in no position to give orders to me!”

“That’s not an order, Chaise, it is a statement of fact. If I am not around to put an end to your miserable existence, then someone else will. Now that we have an understanding-what is it that you want me to do?”

He thought about what I had said, then decided to ignore it. He had an ego as big as dwarf star. He smiled in a most friendly way.

“See. Wasn’t that easy?”

He slipped the gun into a shoulder holster and looked at the cowering Paka. Pointed a stern finger at him. “I assume correctly that you want to go on living?”

Paka’s skin blanched. He was beyond words and could only nod.

“Good. I could ask you to keep events of what has occurred here to yourself. But I have no assurances that you would.” Chaise looked over at me. “My careful study of your MO revealed the fact that you use knockout gas with an amnesia element to subdue your enemies. Am I correct in assuming you are so equipped now?”

I gave my most surly nod.

“Excellent. Would you be see so kind as to administer a dose to Paka?” He looked on approvingly as the accountant dropped, unconscious. Prodded him with a toe and got only a snore in response. “It is for your protection, as well as mine, to keep our little relationship from being revealed. I want you to take command of the financial procurement operations of my bank.”

“I know nothing about banking.”

“I am talking about robbing banks-and I know for a fact that you have more than a little experience in that line. Up until now Igor here has been in charge of the operation. But he has no imagination or skill and is good only in carrying out orders.”

Igor scowled at this description but did not protest.