“You tidied them up all right,” Steve grumbled. “This Professor Voss was practically the only lead I've been able to discover. An old friend of Self's. And you allowed him to get away before we even got here.”
One of Hackett's men came up and said, “Not a sign of him, Steve. He evidently burned a few papers, packed a suitcase, and took off. His things look suspiciously as though he was ready to go into hiding at a moment's notice.”
Steve growled to him, “Give the place the works. He's probably left some clues around that'll give us a line.”
The other went off and Steve Hackett sat down in one of the leather chairs and glowered at Larry Woolford. “Listen,” he said, “what did you people want with Susan Self?”
Larry shook his head for clarity and looked at him. “Susan? What are you talking about? You don't have any aspirin, do you?”
“No. What'd you mean, what am I talking about? You called Betsy Hughes and then sent a couple of men over to pick the Self kid up.”
“Who's Betsy Hughes?”
Steve shook his head. “I don't know what kind of knockout drops the old boy gave you, but they sure worked. Betsy's the operative we had minding Susan Self over in the Greater Washington Hilton. About an hour ago you got her on the phone, said your department wanted to question Susan, and that you were sending two men over to pick her up. The two men turned up with an order from you, and took the girl.”
Larry stared at him. Finally he said, “What time is it?”
“About two o'clock.”