Burris nodded. Then he looked worried. "Tell me, Malone," he said.
"She isn't, is she?"
"Isn't immortal, you mean?" Malone said. Burris nodded. Malone said confidently: "Of course not."
There was a little pause. Malone thought things over.
Hell, maybe she was immortal. Stranger things had happened, hadn't they?
He looked over at Dr. Harman. "How about that?" he said. "Could she be immortal?"
The psychiatrist shook his head decisively. "She's been here for over forty years, Mr. Malone, ever since her late teens. Her records show all that, and her birth certificate is in perfect order. Not a chance."
Malone sighed and turned back to the phone. "Of course she isn't immortal, Chief," he said. "She couldn't be. Nobody is. Just a nut."
"I was afraid of that," Burris said. "Afraid?" Malone said.
Burris nodded. "We've got another one, or anyhow we think we have," he said. "If he checks out, that is. Right here in Washington."
"Not at—Rice Pavilion?" Malone asked.