"Frankly," Malone said, "I'm inclined to agree with you. But what is this something that frightens everyone else?"
Kettleman leaned even closer. "I'm not sure," he said softly. "I can't say for certain, Mr. Malone. I've only heard rumors."
"Well," Malone said, "rumors might—"
"Rumors are a very powerful force among my groups, Mr. Malone," Kettleman said. "I've learned, over the years, to keep my ear to the ground, as it were, and pay very close attention to rumors."
"I'm sure," Malone said patiently. "But what did this particular rumor say?"
"Well," Kettleman said, and stopped. "Well," he said again. And at last he gulped and got it out. "Magicians, Mr. Malone. They say the Spooks are magicians—that they can come and go at will. Make themselves invisible. All sorts of things. Of course, I don't believe that, but—"
"Oh, it's quite true," Malone said, solemn faced.
"It's what?"
"Perfectly true," Malone said. "We know all that."
"Oh, my," Kettleman said. His face took on a whitish cast. "Oh, my goodness," he said. "Isn't that—isn't that amazing." He swallowed hard. "True all the time," he said.