Then she'd come running across the yard, no doubt, but he'd be watching the tach now and reaching for second gear, keeping the revs down because the mill was still cold, concentrating on the car because everything had gone too far and it was too late and he didn't even want to hear her calling after him, if she did call..

"Please don't look at me like that!" Beth whispered. "Matt, what are we going to do?"

Suddenly I felt kind of sorry for her. I mean, I suppose a woman ought to be able to get a little frantic now and then without causing her man to do more than slam the door hard on his way out.

I said, "We'll figure something, but first, what's the chances of getting something to eat around here? I haven't had anything since breakfast, and the circumstances weren't favorable to good digestion, if you'll recall."

She hesitated; it was clearly hard for her to think of such mundane things as food. "There's cold roast," she said, "and I think there are some cold boiled potatoes. I could fry them for you. You used to like them fried, didn't you?"

It made me feel funny that she should remember that. "Yes," I said. "If you don't mind, I'll stop in the living room and make myself a drink… Do you have a road atlas?"

"Yes, it's in the living room, too. On the shelf under the window."

A little later, she came into the living room with a tray of food and a small silver ice bucket. I looked up from the atlas, as she took some cubes from the bucket and dropped them into my warm drink.

"What are you looking for, Matt?"

"I was kind of figuring the earliest he could be back," I said. "According to my information, he's heading south southeast, which doesn't tell us much. I don't know the border very well, at least not from the dope-smuggler's angle… When did he leave?"

She hesitated, and glanced at her watch. "It was. quite a while ago."

"It must have been," I said, "for him to be clear down in Arizona already. He must have that Jag really screaming. Well, let's hope he hangs onto it, or they'll be picking up pieces of Logan all over the southwest."

Her breath caught. "You don't have to say things like that, Matt!"

"Sorry," I said. I looked up at her. "How the hell did you come to marry him, anyway, Beth?"

"Can't you understand?" she said. "Can't you understand that I couldn't do it twice?"

"What do you mean?"

"I met him," she said. "I liked him very much. He liked me. I thought I knew what was coming when he asked me, very formally, to have dinner with him out here. I was right, of course. He said he wanted to… to ask me to marry him. But first, he said, there was something he had to tell me… He told me. Everything."

"Stout fella," I said.

She paid me no attention. "I was shocked, of course," she said, "terribly shocked. He hadn't seemed like that sort of person at all, any more than you… Matt, do you think I have an… an affinity for men who do you think I really, subconsciously, under all my civilized ideas and ideals, want someone… someone violent…

"You mean," I said, "like the prissy schoolmarm type really wants to be raped?"

She flushed, and went on quickly: "Anyway, Larry saw on my face what I was thinking. 'I'm sorry, my dear,' he said, 'it was too much to ask, of course.' And he had exactly the same weary look that you had when you said we might as well call it a day. And I couldn't do it again, don't you understand? I couldn't do it a second time! I know you think I failed you, and I still think you had no right to expect… But I couldn't do it to him, too. I just couldn't!" After a while, she said quietly, "Maybe it would have been better if I had. I

I'm not very good at this sort of thing, Matt." Presently she added, with a touch of defiance, "I don't think anyone should have to be!"

I said, "It would be nice if thinking made it so."

I frowned at her for a moment longer, wondering if there could have been some basis for her theory about herself; it was odd that twice she should have picked men with dark secrets. Well, her subconscious was her problem. I yawned and put the atlas aside and started to eat. The drink had been a mistake. It had only reminded me of all the hours I'd been without sleep. When Beth spoke again, her voice seemed to come from far away.

I asked, "What did you say?"

"What did you do with that sexy little girl? That's her car outside, isn't it?"

I wished she hadn't asked. I had a sudden picture of the kid as I'd last seen her. I asked you what side you were on, Moira had whispered, and you kissed me. I asked you why we had to come here and you said because you wanted me safe. Safe! I had no trouble at all remembering the contempt in her voice and expression.

1 said, "I traded that sexy little girl for a safe-conduct pass for the kids. When young Peter checks in tomorrow morning, tell him it's okay to bring them home."

Beth frowned. "I don't understand-"

I said, "I'm not too proud to borrow a good idea. There was nothing wrong with the Duke's plan except its execution. I just went ahead with it after you left."

"You mean-"

"I mean," I said, "she's being held in a certain place. Fredericks has been notified that anything that happens to my kids happens to his kid, too. I think I managed to convince him that I mean it." I drew a long breath. "In other words, we've got the children off the streets. We've canceled them out. It's just a game for grown-ups, now."

Beth was still frowning. Then her forehead cleared. "I see. Well, I don't suppose she's very proud of her parent, and she seemed quite fond of you; I suppose she was glad to cooperate-"

"I didn't ask her," I said.

Beth's frown was back. "But then, how did you manage-"

I said, "I twisted her arm until she screamed. It was a very convincing scream. Anyway, I think Fredericks bought it."

Beth was staring at me wide-eyed. "You can't be serious! Why, the child was obviously in love with you! She'd have done anything-"

"Love, shmove," I said. It was like being in a foreign country, speaking a language nobody understood. "Look," I said, "that sexy little girl, as you call her, has very odd, almost biblical notions about family. You know, honor thy father and mother, that sort of thing. Her father happens to be a racketeer and her mother's a hopeless alcoholic, but as far as she's concerned that's strictly beside the point, and so is the fact that she's not really very fond of the old man. He's her old man, and that's that. Now, what am I going to do, kiss her gently and ask her to save humanity by casting her lot with the forces of truth and beauty represented by myself? And then have her spend the rest of her life remembering-with the old man dead or in jail-that she had a hand in putting him there; that she let herself be sweet-talked into turning against him? Nuts. So now she has a sore arm for a couple of days instead of a sore conscience for the rest of eternity. And she hates me, but that's not going to do her any harm; probably she's better off for it."

Beth was still staring at me as if I'd sprouted claws and fangs. It didn't matter, apparently, what you did to people's psyches, but twisting their arms was terrible. Then she thought of something else, and her expression changed.

"But if you have the girl-if you're holding her-then everything is all right, isn't it? I mean, Larry doesn't have to… to go through with it. We can trade her for-"

"For what?" I asked. "Do you think Fredericks is going to walk into a police station and sign a notarized confession of his crimes just because I happen to be holding his daughter somewhere? Don't be silly. All I've done is buy our kids a kind of temporary immunity, and don't think Fredericks isn't doing his damnedest to figure a way to hit back. Holding Moira Fredericks doesn't solve a thing. It just gives us a little time in which to operate more freely than we could if we had to worry about what might be happening to Betsy and the boys…"