Larry said, “I came into this house in the morning, talked to the Professor for about half an hour and then was silly enough to let him give me some loaded coffee. He was such a weird old buzzard that it never occurred to me he might be dangerous. At any rate, I've been unconscious for several hours. I couldn't've called this Betsy Hughes operative of yours.”
It was Steve Hackett's turn to stare.
“You mean your department doesn't have Susan Self?”
“Not so far as I know. The Boss told me yesterday that we were pulling out, that it was all in your hands. What would we want with Susan?”
“Oh, great,” Steve snarled. “There goes our last contact. Ernest Self, Professor Voss, and now Susan Self; they've all disappeared.”
“Look,” Larry said unhappily, “let's get me some aspirin and then let's go and see my chief. I have a sneaking suspicion our department is back on this case.”
Steve snorted sarcastically. “If you can foul things up this well when [pg 036] you're off the case, God only knows what you'll accomplish using your facilities on an all-out basis.”
The Boss said slowly, “Whoever we are working against evidently isn't short of resources. Abducting that young lady was no simple matter.” The career diplomat worked his lips in and out, in all but a pout.
Larry Woolford, who'd taken time out to go home, shower, change clothes and medicate himself out of his dope induced hangover, sat across the desk from him, flanked by Steve Hackett.