He lit up and stalked the kitchen floor. The clock said after eleven. Corinna had been taken--when? Three-plus hours ago, at a guess. But they would have had to find a place to question her. That would give a little time. They could conceivably be en route this minute. "We're being a pair of prize schtunks," said Guido. "Hm?" Kintyre threw him a look. "Sitting here calling each other hard names. I mean, we ought to be out searching for her." "Where?" "Any place!" Guido's face was drawn taut; there was a tic over his right eye. "Every address we eliminate is something." "How many houses in the Bay Area?" Kintyre flopped onto a chair. Through the doors he had locked in himself, the horror hooted. "Well, for Chrissake, man," said Guido, "I don't mean to search the bishop's! We can think of some possible places, can't we?" "I don't know." "Ah, spit. We're doing nobody any good. Let's go for a ride. It might clear our brains some." "The great American solution. Let's go for a ride." Guido regarded Kintyre for a moment or so. "Does it help you to feel superior, cat?" he asked quietly. Kintyre's head jerked up. After a few seconds: "Okay. I'll just phone in to let the police know we're going." They left the cottage and Guido took the wheel of Kintyre's old black sedan. "Any special route, Doc?" he inquired. "Oh, I don't know. The coast highway, southbound." "State One? It's a bastardly slow drive beyond the freeway." "What have we to hurry for?" Guido slid the car into smooth motion. One-handed, he lit a fresh cigarette. "My solitary trick," he said wryly. "You sing pretty well," said Kintyre. "Not as well as I might. That takes work, and I'm not that interested." "What are you interested in?" Kintyre responded mechanically. "Right now, getting her back unhurt," said Guido. "Think there's a chance?" "I thought we were going to clear our brains," rapped Kintyre. They remained silent past the tollgate. Once they were on the bridge, with the quicksilver sheet of the Bay under them and San Francisco thinly misted ahead, Guido nagged: "Where could they go? It'd have to be some place nobody would hear them, no cops would come around to. Pretty short notice to rent a house again. I mean, especially when an alarm might go out with their descriptions. Of course, they could just bust into a house offered to let." "The police will be checking that." "Uh-huh. Only Doc, wouldn't they expect it and try to outsmart the police? Dig me? Let's turn off at the ramp. I'm a waterfront kid, I know some old places where you could get in and--" "Would they know about it?" snorted Kintyre. "I suppose not." Crestfallen, Guido held the car in the middle lane. When they got onto the southbound freeway, he opened up. Kintyre, a conservative driver, had never pressed his car to the limit. Now he saw the needle hover at ninety; wind snapped by the doors. "You want a ticket?" he asked.