"Where did you go on this last trip?"
While Sam launched a graphic account of their travels, Simon considered the fact that neither of these boys had been to Cookie's before. This seemed hardly in keeping with the pattern which Simon had begun to put together in his mind. He felt that the link must be somewhere between ships darting about the sea and Cookie's Cellar. James Prather?
Or the late lamented Gamaliel Bradford Foley?
Foley had been tied up with Dr. Zellermann. Dr. Zellermann with Cookie's, or some member of Cookie's entourage. Therefore a link existed somewhere.
Anyway, here they were. Simon paid off the taxi, and they went inside. The place was almost deserted, but a few people were around.
Among these were James Prather, talking to Kay Natello. Prather looked up at the party's entrance, narrowed his eyes and walked toward them.
3. How Mr. Prather said little,
and Dr. Zellermann said even less
1
The Saint had never considered himself to be psychic. He had learned that by adding the factors of a situation he could forecast the probable moment when Death would leer at him over a gunsight, or ride the business end of a club, or sing through the air on the point of a knife. He had learned that, when he subconsciously placed such factors in their proper alignment and came up with a subconscious answer, his adrenal glands went quickly into action with a suddenness that brought a tingling to the back of his neck and the tips of his fingers.