"He came to me. He had the woman hidden out in a lodge in the Catskills. He did not have nerve enough to kill her, the coward! And what did I do? I helped him, fool that I am. And the ungrateful (bleepard) has never begun to pay the rewards he should! Having gotten rid of her for him, he once more did not marry me!"

The Countess Krak said, "What did you do with the woman?"

"I sent her to her parents."

"Where was that?"

"A farm in Hamden County, Virginia."

"And what else did you do?"

The muffled voice said, "The parents were easy. It took money and a tale that no one was sure who the father was. And in that stuffy neighborhood, that kept them quiet. They and the girl were frightened, too. They had a choice between money and being rubbed out and they took money. But I privately used my professional connections. I made sure the local doctor did his duty."

"What was his name?"

"Tremor Graves, M.D., an old country practitioner that could have had his license suspended many times over. The woman was too far advanced for abortion. But I got his pledge to kill the child and then the mother at birth by 'natural causes.' Brought on from shock, of course."

"What shock?"

"Her parents being killed in an auto accident that cost fifteen thousand dollars."

"Where did all this occur?"

"Hamden County, Virginia."

"When?"

"Eighteen years ago."

Suddenly I understood the brilliant plot of Lombar Hisst. Somewhere in all those survey records of Earth which he studied and hoarded, due to his vast interest in the marvelous fact that a man like Delbert John Rocke-center, not of royal birth, could control a whole planet– a thing to emulate-the Apparatus chief had gotten wind of this. And he had known very well that giving Heller that name was a death warrant. I understood why he had used that very county and specified that very age. One whisper of Heller using it would bring-and indeed had brought-the Rockecenter Angels of Death swarming. Why, this was the very reason Madison was on the job! Clever, clever Lombar!

"But Delbert John Rockecenter never thanked me," said Agnes Morelay under the hypnohelmet. "He didn't do as much as thumb his nose. So I made him pay. There's a little operation one can do. A small cut with a knife. When he got knocked out in a fall from a horse, I said he'd injured his (bleeps) and I sterilized the (bleep-ard). The foundation is just another psychiatric medical fraud. The Rockecenters have always been insane but I've used every psychiatric technique to make sure it's chronic. For eighteen years I've blackmailed him into doing anything I want but I still can't get my hands on

his money. So I haven't got my reward yet but I will, I will. The (bleepard)! My psychiatric professors and all my colleagues pat me on the back and tell me how much I've done for the profession. And so I have, but Delbert John has yet to give me the Rockecenter money! No reward is enough for the sacrifice and devotion of my whole life!"

"I have heard you," said the Countess Krak. "Listen carefully. You will feel rewarded when you propose to some nice young man and settle down. Have you got that?"

"I will feel rewarded when I propose to some nice young man and settle down."

"Good. Now, as to the land yacht, when you awake, you are going to write a letter on your stationery and in it you are going to say that you have turned it over to an agent named Heavenly Joy Krackle of Sleepy Hollow, New York, to take it around and show it and try to sell it for you. But if after a period of three months it has not been sold, said Heavenly Joy Krackle may buy it for..."

She pulled down the microphone. She muttered, "Let's see, a million dollars would not be worth very much... it's now second-hand... fifty thousand credits would be a fair price on Manco. And I'll have our estates back by then...." She raised the mike and continued. "... said Heavenly Joy Krackle may buy it for fifty thou­sand credits. Have you got that?"

"Yes."

"And now you will forget all about the helmet and that you have told me anything. And when you have written the letter you will fully wake up, believing we only came to take the land yacht away."

She turned the helmet off, removed it and put it in her shopping bag.

Dr. Agnes Morelay rose from her couch, went straight to her desk and got some stationery with her let­terhead. Krak watched her. The psychiatrist wrote:

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

The Kostly Custom Coach Company Land Yacht has been turned over to my agent, Heavenly Joy Krackle of Sleepy Hollow, New York, to take it around and show and try to sell it for me. But if after three months she has not sold it, she can buy it for $50,000 on credit. Anything to get rid of the (bleeped) thing because I am not going anywhere!

AGNES P. MORELAY, Ph.D., M.D.

I

Krak picked up the letter, blinked at it a couple times and then put it in her purse.

"Now," said Miss Agnes, "get the God (bleeped) thing the hell out of my driveway!"

The Countess Krak went out. She walked down the drive toward the monstrous vehicle. Bang-Bang was waiting anxiously, halfway out the gate.

Krak said, "Unload our baggage, Bang-Bang. And park that cab somewhere. We're taking this land yacht."

Bang-Bang looked anxiously at the house and then at Krak. "Hey, you couldn't have bought this. It's worth a million bucks."

"It's a steal, Bang-Bang. Get the baggage."

"Oh, Jesus," said Bang-Bang. "And Ossining just a few miles up the road."

"Hurry," said the Countess Krak.

He spun around a couple of times. Then he raced to the cab and with three trips dumped the luggage in front of the huge vehicle out of sight of the house. He raced back, jumped into the cab and drove it into the bushes down the road. He raced back, looking anxiously at the house. "Gimme the keys, quick," he said.

"Keys," said the Countess Krak. "Oh, dear, I forgot to tell her to give them to me. Bang-Bang, run in and ask Dr. Morelay to give you all the keys."

"Oh, Jesus," said Bang-Bang. "I haven't even got a gun!"

"Go," said the Countess Krak. She looked after him and he seemed to be taking a very erratic course. "I better make sure he is all right," she muttered.

She went to the baggage and reached into a case. She took out a telescope, the duplicate of the one I'd used that could see through walls and hear conversations. She turned it on, and under cover of the land yacht, focused it on the front door.

The butler let Bang-Bang in. He said, "Dr. Morelay has them, sir. This way, please."

He marched Bang-Bang down the hall and into the office, closed the door and left.

Miss Agnes was sitting at her desk, gazing into space.

"The keys and instruction books and things," said Bang-Bang.

The woman looked at him. She suddenly seemed to come to life. She rose up from the desk, walked across the office and locked the door!

She walked over to Bang-Bang. She said, "Are you a nice young man?"

"Jesus, yes, ma'am. We really didn't mean nothing. It's all kind of..."

Dr. Morelay was paying no slightest attention to what he was saying now. She reached out and unbuttoned his coat. He stared down at what she was doing. She started to undo his belt buckle.

"Jesus Christ." Bang-Bang grabbed his suddenly sliding pants. He sped to one side. Dr. Morelay was right after him. Bang-Bang, like a gazelle, went over an upholstered chair. Miss Agnes was right over after him. Bang-Bang sprang across the desk with agility. The psychiatrist sprang also.

Unfortunately for Bang-Bang, his foot had come down in the wastebasket. He tottered.

Miss Agnes sprang.

Bang-Bang was hurled backwards to the couch. He landed on it with a crash!

Miss Agnes was onto him, pinning him down with her knees. She was ripping away at his clothes.