Kintyre half rose. He felt the lift of rage within himself. "Be careful!" he shouted. Yamamura's face went totally blank. "Ah-ha. Sit back, son. I'm still the black belt man here. You'd only succeed in tearing up this nice room." Kintyre spat: "There was nothing!" "I never said that. Of course there was nothing improper. I am not implying you had any conscious thoughts whatsoever that you can't safely remember. Or if you did now and then--and as for your subconscious wishes--were they really so evil? She was the only girl of your generation whom you'd see for weeks and months at a time. So you loved her. Is love ever a sin?" Kintyre slumped. Yamamura laid a hand on his shoulder. "There's a story about two Zen Buddhist monks who were walking somewhere," he said. "They came to a river. A woman stood by the bank, afraid to cross. One of them carried her over. Then the two monks continued on their way. The gallant one was singing cheerfully, the other got gloomier and gloomier. Finally the second one exclaimed: 'How could you, a monk, take up a woman in your arms?' The first one answered: 'Oh, are you still carrying her? I set her down back at the ford.'" Kintyre didn't move. "Forgive my amateur psychoanalysis," said Yamamura. "It's none of my business." He paused. "I would only suggest that it's no service to anyone we've cared for, not to let them rest." He sat down beside Kintyre and took out his pipe. They smoked together for a wordless while. "Well," said Kintyre at last. "Have you figured out who's behind the murders?" "No. Think you can tell us? Feel free to wait." "Oh, I can. M-m-m-m-_margery_--" Yamamura worked powerful fingers along Kintyre's shoulders and the base of his neck. "Go on," he said. "Margery's death--brought back Morna's, I suppose--I failed them both. I didn't need O'Hearn's story to determine who instigated all this. I could have told you yesterday afternoon, if I'd used my head--_Ouch!_" "That," said Yamamura, "was to halt an incipient tailspin. I felt it coming. You are not to blame for one damn item except being human and therefore limited, fallible, and unable to do everything simultaneously on roller skates. If you forget that again, I shall punch you in a more sensitive spot. Now why don't you go swallow one of those chemical consolations?" "I told you they don't help much." "I've no high opinion of 'em myself, but do so anyway." When Kintyre had returned and sat down again, Yamamura said: "Okay, carry on. Who is our man?" 18 "Clayton," said Kintyre. "Huh?" The pipe almost dropped from Yamamura's hand. "What the hell! Why, for God's sake?" "Bruce got too much information about Clayton's rackets." "What rackets? Clayton's straight! I never heard a hint--" "Oh, yes. He's straight enough on this side of the Atlantic." Yamamura muttered something profane. "How do you know?" he added.