He tried to make up his mind whether or not that made sense. Superficially, it sounded like plain bad English, but he wasn’t sure of anything any more. Things were getting much too confused.
There was a knock at the door.
Malone, without any hope at all, called: “Come in,” and the door opened.
The agent-in-charge came in, and dropped a dollar on Malone’s desk.
“So you checked,” Malone said.
“I checked,” the A-in-C said sadly. “The boys went through the entire damned building. Not a sign of her. Not even a trace.”
“There wouldn’t be one,” Malone said, shoving the dollar back to waiting hands. “Take the money; I knew what would happen. It was a sucker bet.”
“Well, I feel like the sucker, all right,” the A-in-C said. “I don’t know how she did it.”
“I do,” Malone said quietly. “Teleportation.”
The A-in-C whistled. “Well,” he said, “it was a great secret as long as it was FBI property. But now, friend, all hell is going to bust loose.”