They did. In spite of everything, McLeod had to admire Wainwright. In the old days, nations went to war for economic reasons, over diametrically opposed political philosophies, because of religion. Today, a sharp reporter dug deep to unearth closeted skeletons and moral potsherds and literally blackmailed a chief of state into war. Wainwright was sharp, all right. History might one day write up the whole series of twenty-second century wars as Blackmail Wars, but meanwhile the U. N. could only gnash its collective teeth while Wainwright picked up a fattened paycheck. "I'll bet you're proud of yourself," Tracy said. "I don't see why not. Kitrick will be reamed, my dear." "And so will a few million innocent people." "Perhaps you weren't fooling when you mentioned the Anti-Newspaper League. But of course, you're pulling my leg." "I'm a co-respondent," Tracy said coldly. "I don't have to turn cartwheels over your end of the newspaper game." "Tracy," McLeod said. This was one facet of the girl's character he'd never seen before. He could almost see the gears meshing into place inside Wainwright's skull. He didn't mind talk which bordered on the subversive, as long as it came from Tracy, who was quite outspoken about a lot of things, but Wainwright might have other ideas. But Wainwright said, blandly, "From a moral standpoint you carve out your pound of flesh every now and then too, my dear. Or don't you think framing innocent men in compromising circumstances is immoral?" "You wouldn't understand the difference," Tracy said. "It is a difference of degree, not kind." * * * * * Tracy bit her lips and did not reply. It was like a revelation to McLeod. He suddenly wondered if Cripp knew how maladjusted his fiancee was. Abruptly, Wainwright changed the subject. "Are you well insured, McLeod?" "I never could figure out who to name as beneficiary." "That's a shame." "If you've planned anything now, I thought you'd like to know _Star-Times_ Security Forces are all around us," McLeod bluffed. "You underestimate me, sir. Prognostication comes up with the raw facts, which I sift for story material. I merely wait for things to happen. However, in case you have any inclinations to put the shoe on the other foot, I'm sure you realize _World_ Security men often lunch at the Fourth Estate." That, McLeod suspected, was no bluff. Tracy was still nibbling on her lip but managed to cast a worried look in his direction. They ordered and ate in silence while Wainwright swirled and sipped another brandy. "Have you heard about poor Mayor Spurgess?" Wainwright asked as McLeod cooled his coffee with cream. McLeod scalded his lips. The _World_ reporter was playing cat-and-mouse with him, taunting him overtly. Perhaps Wainwright figured he could kill two birds with one stone, getting McLeod while McLeod tried to protect the mayor's record. He hoped Wainwright had not thought of Overman's alternative.