Farradyne left the salon swearing under his breath. If this parking of her did not work, Farradyne was licked and he knew it.
Farradyne walked. He didn't like walking but he preferred it to remaining in the Lancaster with Norma for the next couple of hours. He tried to think, but he could not come to any conclusion because he had all his hope tied on the Bennington outfit and what they might turn up.
He was shown into the office of Peter Lawson, who was a bright-eyed, elderly man with a body surprisingly lithe for his years.
"Now, before we go any further," said Lawson, pleasantly, "I'd like to hear your reasons for becoming interested in this case."
Farradyne nodded. "As I told you, Frank Hannon was killed in an accident on a spacecraft I owned. That was four years ago. Recently I met Norma Hannon in a gin mill on Ganymede and she fastened onto me like a leech as a person to hate. You know the results of love lotus addiction?"
"Yes. Unfortunately, I do."
"Well, it occurred to me that one way of getting rid of Miss Hannon would be to turn her over to some relative or friend who would be deeply interested in her welfare. Does this add up?"
"Quite logical. Miss Hannon is where you can find her?"
Farradyne nodded, with a sour look on his face. "She's sitting in my salon waiting for me to come back so she can bait me some more."
"Why not just turn her over to the police?" asked Lawson, with a careful look at Farradyne.