"That he's a crook? No. I don't know much about it, but I should certainly imagine that anybody who wanted to keep an import license would have to keep his nose pretty clean. If Clayton started hanging around with, oh, say Chicago gunmen, the FBI would be on his tail in a matter of weeks." "But couldn't he--" "Forget Clayton. He's alibied for every minute of that weekend. As for hiring professionals, look, pony, suppose you wanted such a job done. How would you find the pros?" "Why--" She hesitated, lifting a small hand to her chin. "I don't know." "You're a law-abiding citizen, so you don't know. Clayton is also reasonably law-abiding. He's got to be. The Italian police might conceivably not be aware of it if Clayton were doing something illicit. Over there, he could operate internationally. But the United States is another proposition. We talk about our free enterprise, but the plain fact is that an American businessman is required to operate in a goldfish bowl, under innumerable petti-fogging regulations. So, I repeat, Clayton must be more or less straight. Even if the US government was unable to indict him for anything, they could rescind his various licenses, virtually by fiat. "How, then, would he get in touch with an assassin? Walk into a tough bar and ask? Large laugh." Kintyre threw away his cigarette stub. "Oh, sure, given enough time, you or I or anyone could locate a murderer. But this job must have been done on short notice. There was nothing in Bruce's previous life to bring it on. You know how burblesome he was; could he have kept from you, for weeks, the fact that he knew something big? Of course not. Nor from me, or any of his associates. Ergo, it was something he blundered onto lately, probably without even realizing its significance. The person who was threatened by this had to react fast: find his killers and get them here, or do the job himself, within days. That lets Clayton out." Margery nodded, a trifle overwhelmed. "I'm glad," she said. "I like him, the little I've seen." "Yeh." Kintyre thought a couple of hours back. "Me too." She smiled. "But there's still something that he isn't telling. I'm curious to know what." "You may have your chance to find out tonight," said Kintyre. "I saw him and he mentioned he would call up and ask for a dinner date." "Oh!" She looked at him, round-eyed. "And I haven't been answering!" Kintyre laughed. "Turn up that phone bell right away, gal." She shook her head. The blue eyes darkened with pain. "Only so I could say no in a nice way." "Huh?" "I'm not interested. Not yet." For an instant, there was a brightening across her face. "Unless you, Bob--" "Sorry, kid. I'm tied up tonight." He checked his watch. "In fact, I should have left already." "Oh," she said listlessly.