"Nothing," I said. "Nothing at all, sir."

"What did the little Michaelis girl have to propose?"

"She has hired me to assassinate Mrs. Louis Rosten in a discreet way. Twenty-five hundred down, twenty-five hundred on delivery. I've only collected five C's so far, but I'm getting the rest tomorrow after she's been to the bank."

It silenced him briefly. I'd hoped it might. He asked at last, "What are your plans?"

I said, "I thought the deal was that no questions would be asked."

"That was in another connection. You can't very well-"

"Can't I?" I asked. "How important is this machine of Dr. Michaelis'? The last I heard, the fate of the world hung in the balance."

"But-" I heard him swallow at the other end of the line. He thought I was needling him, but he wasn't quite sure. Well, I wasn't quite sure, either. He called my bluff. "Very well. Use your judgment."

"Thank you, sir, but judgment-wise I'm suffering from fatigue, remember? And a superman complex. Ah, hell." I was being childish. "I want everything anybody's got on Michaelis, Theodora. Orcutt, William. Rosten, Robin. Rosten, Louis. And a schooner named Freya. Oh, and a man named Nick, paid hand on the schooner. Can do?"

"I think we have most of that information. In a minute, I'll switch you to the girl downstairs and she'll read it off for you. Anything else?"

"One thing. There was a New York private detective, name unknown, who came down here to investigate for Miss Michaelis and got scared off."

"He was taken aside by some people with impressive credentials and told to forget it."

"That wasn't too smart," I said. "It would have been better, maybe, to let him keep working and have him send her innocuous reports, or maybe not. This way the little girl's on the warpath. Maybe she'll help us blast something loose."

"Yes. It would be well, however, if the blast damage were confined to a reasonable area. Eric?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Concerning Michaelis, senior. Keep in mind that this is a valuable man. Merely because the orders permit a certain course of action does not imply that course is mandatory. I had some high officials in here this evening-"

I said, "Do they want him shut up or don't they? This isn't the search-and-rescue branch of the U.S. Coast Guard, for God's sake! There's only one chance in a thousand I can even reach the guy, and if I do, 1 may have all of ten seconds to act. Now, do I have the go-ahead or don't I?"

He sighed. "You have it."

I hesitated. "How's Alan, sir?"

"Alan is going to be all right."

"Sure," I said. "Well, give me that office girl and let me find out something about these people. A yellow Cadillac, you say?"

"That's right. Be careful. Report when you can." He paused. "As for that matter of discipline-"

"Sir?"

"It will depend on which of us turns Out to be right, won't it, Eric?" He cleared his throat delicately. "Judgment-wise, I mean."

WHEN I CAME out of the hotel, after getting the information I wanted, the sky to the east held a pale hint of dawn. There weren't any yellow Cadillacs around. I hoped I hadn't lost him. I started walking. It might not be the best plan, judgment-wise, but I was too sleepy to be clever. I wanted to stir up some action, and if it happened to involve hand grenades, submachine guns, or sawed-off shotguns, well, it was about time a little hardware came my way, for a change, so I could prove I could be real tough on the receiving end, too.

Atonement, Mac had said. He'd pulled the rug out from under me very neatly-or, rather, instead of pulling it out, he'd left me standing on it. He'd given me no chance to back away from the position I'd chosen. To put it a different way, I'd stuck my neck way out, with melodramatic flourishes, and instead of crudely chopping it off, as I'd invited him to do, he'd just pulled it out a little farther and tied a pink ribbon around it…

Balanced or unbalanced, glad or sorry, I was stuck with the job. In theory, I was picking up the case where Jean had left it. In practice, I wasn't anywhere near that place and had no idea where to find it. Jean, according to her reports, had had a real contact, a muffled voice on the phone, somebody interested enough in an alcoholic, disillusioned, potentially disloyal member of our team to make propositions; interested enough to bug her motel room and check up on her. All I had, so far, was a screwy kid with a grudge against her vanished papa's handsome lady friend.

What I needed was action, I thought, or about twelve hours' sleep, or a month in the sun with a lady named Gail. Well, it was no time to start thinking about that. I was thinking about it, nevertheless, when a yellow Cadillac glided up beside me and stopped. I stopped. The near door of the car opened, and the handsome, sunburned face of Louis Rosten looked out.

"Please get in, Mr. Petroni," Rosten said. "I've been trying to catch you. I would like to speak with you."

I shrugged and got in. He sent the car away smoothly. Well, it was action of a sort. I leaned against the door, watching him drive and wondering if he could possibly be Jean's mysterious telephone contact. That slick, gutless air could be a fake-so could Orcutt's Don Quixote act. So could Mrs. Rosten's air of regal indifference, or pretty little Teddy Michaelis pose of a blood-thirsty kitten.

"I'll buy you a cup of coffee," Rosten said. "We'll drive out the highway. Under the circumstances, I think it is better if we're not recognized eating together, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Circumstances? What circumstances? I've got nothing to hide."

"Nothing except a murder," Rosten said.

It was hard to think of Jean's death in those terms; but of course Petroni would. "What are you driving at, mister?" I demanded with sudden harshness. "The cops let me go, didn't they?"

"Please!" he said. "Don't think I have any intention of-what I mean is, Petroni, I do have eyes in my head, whatever my wife may think. You're rather a distinctive figure. I could have made a great deal of trouble for you last night, but I chose not to. That's all I'm trying to say."

I studied him balefully. "Okay," I said. "Okay, so you saw me and kept quiet. What do you figure it's going to buy you? What do you think you've got on me? You'd play hell trying to change your story now. The police would crucify you."

"Please," he said. "I'm not a blackmailer. I have no intention of changing my testimony. The dead woman was nothing to me; nor do I have any strong feelings about law and order. I must say, however, that I am curious. How did you get Miss Michaelis to lie for you, too? Had you known her before?"

I said, "She's my long-lost kid sister. It was a family reunion. How could she send me to the electric chair, her own flesh and blood?"

He glanced at me, and laughed politely to show he got the joke. "Ha ha. Well, never mind. It isn't important, except that it enabled me to find you again. Knowing that she'd lied for you, I could guess that you would make contact with her sooner or later. It was merely a matter of- well, of getting away from my wife unsuspected, so I could watch the motel. Of course I couldn't let her know what I was doing."

"Of course not," I said. "She might have got the wrong idea about your hanging around a pretty young girl."

He looked a little startled, as if I'd offered an unexpected thought. Then he laughed again, rather nervously. "Ha ha. Yes, well, there's that, too. And of course Teddy, Miss Michaelis, is quite attractive. There's something very charming about a small, really feminine woman, don't you think?"

I had a picture in my mind of the small, really feminine woman asking bright-eyed, How much would you charge to make a hit for me? But it wasn't for me to disillusion him, if he wanted to take her doll-like appearance at face value.