Jill answered, «You're asking me? I don't know. Ben told me that he intended to ask Mike if he wanted to leave the hospital — and help him if he said, “Yes”.»

«Which Ben did try, with the phony.»

«So? But, Jubal, they couldn't have known that Ben intended to … and, anyhow, Mike wouldn't have left with Ben.»

«Later he left with you.»

«Yes — but I was his “water brother”, just as you are now. He has this crazy idea that he can trust anyone with whom he has shared a drink of water. With a “water brother” he is docile … with anybody else he is stubborn as a mule. Ben couldn't have budged him.» She added, «At least that is the way he was last week — he's changing awfully fast.»

«So he is. Too fast, maybe. I've never seen muscle tissue develop so rapidly. Never mind, back to Ben — Cavendish reports that Ben dropped him and the lawyer, a chap named Frisby, at nine thirty-one, and Ben kept the cab. An hour later he — or somebody who said he was Ben — phoned that message to Paoli Flat.»

«You don't think it was Ben?»

«I do not. Cavendish reported the number of the cab and my scouts tried to get a look at its daily trip tape. If Ben used his credit card, his charge number should be on the tape — but even if he fed coins into the meter the tape should show where the cab had been.»

«Well?»

Harshaw shrugged. «The records show that cab in for repairs and never in use Thursday morning. So either a Fair Witness misremembered a cab's number or somebody tampered with the record.» He added, «Maybe a jury would decide that even a Fair Witness could misread a number, especially if he had not been asked to remember it — but I don't believe it — not when the Witness is James Oliver Cavendish. He would either be certain — or his report would never mention it.»

Harshaw scowled. «Jill, you're forcing me to rub my nose in it — and I don't like it! Granted that Ben could have sent that message, it is most unlikely that he could tamper with the record of that cab … and still less believable that he had reason to. Ben went somewhere — and somebody who could get at the records of a public carrier went to a lot of trouble to conceal where he went… and sent a phony message to keep anyone from realizing that he had disappeared.»

«“Disappeared!” Kidnapped, you mean!»

«Softly, Jill. “Kidnapped” is a dirty word.»

«It's the only word! Jubal, how can you sit there when you ought to be shouting it from the — »

«Stop it, Jill! Instead of kidnapped, Ben might be dead.»

Gillian slumped. «Yes,» she agreed dully.

«But we'll assume he is not, until we see his bones. Jill, what's the greatest danger about kidnapping? It is a hue-and-cry — because a frightened kidnapper almost always kills his victim.»

Gillian looked woeful. Harshaw went on gently, «I'm forced to say that it is likely that Ben is dead. He has been gone too long. But we've agreed to assume that he is alive. Now you intend to look for him. Gillian, how will you do this? Without increasing the risk that Ben will be killed by the unknown parties who kidnapped him?»

«Uh — But we know who they are!»

«Do we?»

«Of course! The same people who kept Mike a prisoner — the government!»

Harshaw shook his head. «That's an assumption. Ben has made many enemies with his column and not all of them are in government. However — » Harshaw frowned. «Your assumption is all we have to go on. But it's too sweeping. “The government” is several million people. We must ask ourselves: Whose toes were stepped on? What individuals?»

«Why, Jubal, I told you, just as Ben told me. The Secretary General himself.»

«No,» Harshaw denied. «No matter who did what, if it is rough or illegal, it won't be the Secretary General, even if he benefits. Nobody could prove that he even knew it. It is likely he would not know — not about rough stuff. Jill, we need to find out which lieutenant in the Secretary General's staff of stooges handled this operation. That isn't as hopeless as it sounds — I think. When Ben was taken to see that phony, one of Douglas's assistants was with him — tried to talk him out of it, then went with him. It now appears that this same top-level stooge also dropped out of sight last Thursday. I don't think it's coincidence, since he appears to have been in charge of the phony “Man from Mars”. If we find him, we may find Ben. Gilbert Berquist is his name and I have reason — »

«Berquist?»

«That's the name. I have reason to — Jill, what's the trouble? Don't faint or I'll dunk you in the pool!»

«Jubal. This “Berquist”. Is there more than one Berquist?»

«Eh? He does seem to be a bit of a bastard; there might be only one. I mean the one on the Executive staff. Do you know him?»

«I don't know. But if it is the same one … I don't think there's any use looking for him.»

«Mmm … talk, girl.»

«Jubal… I'm terribly sorry — but I didn't tell you everything.»

«People rarely do. All right, out with it.»

Stumbling and stammering, Gillian told about the men who had disappeared. «And that's all,» she concluded sadly. «I screamed and scared Mike … and he went into that trance — and then I had a terrible time getting here. I told you about that.»

«Mmm … yes. I wish you had told me this, too.»

She turned red. «I didn't think anybody would believe me. And I was scared. Jubal, can they do anything to us?»

«Eh?» Jubal seemed surprised.

«Send us to jail, or something?»

«Oh. My dear, it is not a crime to be present at a miracle. Nor to work one. But this has more aspects than a cat has hair. Let me think.»

Jubal held still about ten minutes. Then he opened his eyes and said, «I don't see your problem child. He's probably on the bottom of the pool — »

«He is.»

« — so dive in and get him. Bring him to my study. I want to see if he can repeat this … and we don't want an audience. No, we need one; tell Anne to put on her Witness robe — I want her in her official capacity. I want Duke, too.»

«Yes, Boss.»

«You're not privileged to call me “Boss”; you're not tax deductible.»

«Yes, Jubal.»

«Mmm … I wish we had somebody who never would be missed. Can Mike do this stunt with inanimate objects?»

«I don't know.»

«We'll find out. Haul him out and wake him up.» Jubal blinked. «What a way to dispose of — no, I mustn't be tempted. See you upstairs, girl.»

A FEW minutes later Jill reported to Jubal's study. Anne was there in the white robe of her guild; she glanced up, said nothing. Jill found a chair and kept quiet, as Jubal was dictating to Dorcas; he did not look up and went on:

« — under the sprawled body, soaking a corner of the rug and seeping out in a dark red pool on the hearth, where it was attracting the attention of two unemployed flies. Miss Simpson clutched at her mouth. “Dear me!” she said in a distressed voice, “Daddy's favorite rug! … and Daddy, too, I do believe.” End of chapter, Dorcas, and of first installment. Mail it off. Git.»

Dorcas left, taking her shorthand machine and smiling to Jill. Jubal said, «Where's Mike?»

«Dressing,» answered Gillian. «He'll be along soon.»

«“Dressing”?» Jubal repeated peevishly. «I didn't say the party was formal.»

«But he has to dress.»

«Why? It makes no never-mind whether you kids wear skin or overcoats. Chase him in.»

«Please, Jubal. He's got to learn.»

«Humph! You're forcing on him your own narrow-minded, middle-class, Bible Belt morality.»

«I am not! I'm simply teaching him necessary customs.»

«Customs, morals — is there a difference? Woman, here, by the grace of God and an inside straight, we have a personality untouched by the psychotic taboos of our tribe — and you want to turn him into a copy of every fourth-rate conformist in this frightened land! Why not go whole hog? Get him a briefcase.»