"We never told in the movies," Cecil said sullenly. "It spoils the suspense. We always said none of your business and what do you care. You're just sore because I said your line."
"Go on," Gerald said. "Tell them."
"Oh, all right," Cecil said. He directed his attention as well as his gun toward his waiting captives. "I think you're familiar with our profession?"
"Profession," Toffee murmured. "That's a laugh."
Cecil ignored it. "Then you should be able to guess that our real interest is in you, Mr. Pillsworth, and your formula. That's what we want."
"I haven't got the formula," Marc lied. "I turned all my papers over to the government."
"That's a lie," Cecil said flatly. "We're in the complete confidence of the government, and we know you still have the formula yourself. You shouldn't be so dishonest, Mr. Pillsworth; it makes a bad impression."
"Please forgive me," Marc said with heavy irony. "And what if I do have the formula? I don't have it with me."
"You can recreate it," Cecil said with confidence. "Just so long as we get it first, before anyone else does. That's the important thing. If you don't recreate it, we'll kill you. Quite dead, you may be sure. We can always find your papers. Really, the only reason we've taken you into custody, so to speak, is to keep the formula from the government. Otherwise, you're actually not important to us at all."
"What do you want with the formula?" Marc asked. "What in the world would you do with it?"