Adams jerked erect.
"Stolen!"
"Stolen," said Alice. "That is right, sir. Twenty years ago."
"But twenty years…"
"We checked the security points," said Alice. "It was stolen just three days after Mr. Sutton set out for 61."
IX
The lawyer said his name was Wellington. He had painted a thin coat of plastic lacquer over his forehead to hide the tattoo mark, but the mark showed through if one looked closely. And his voice was the voice of an android.
He laid his hat very carefully on a table, sat down meticulously in a chair and placed his brief case across his knee. He handed Sutton a rolled-up paper.
"Your newspaper, sir," he said. "It was outside the door. I thought that you might want it."
"Thanks," said Sutton.