"What's causing these disturbances?" he asked. She shook her head. "I don't know, Sir Kenneth. I don't know," she said. "I can't pick up a person's mind over a distance unless I know him--and I can't see what's causing this at all. It's ... frankly, Sir Kenneth, it's rather terrifying." The phone rang again. "How long have you been experiencing this disturbance?" Malone asked. He looked at the phone. "The telephone isn't important," Her Majesty said. "It's only Sir Thomas, calling to tell you he's arrested three spies, and that doesn't matter at all." "It doesn't?" "Not at all," Her Majesty said. "What does matter is that I've only been picking up these flashes since you were assigned to this new case, Sir Kenneth. And--" She paused. "Well?" Malone said. "And they only appear," Her Majesty said, "when I'm tuned to _your_ mind!" [Illustration] V Malone stared. He tried to say something but he couldn't find any words. The telephone rang again and he pushed the switch with a sense of relief. The beard-fringed face of Thomas Boyd appeared on the screen. "You're getting hard to find," Boyd said. "I think you're letting fame and fortune go to your head." "I left word at the office that I was coming here," Malone said aggrievedly. "Sure you did," Boyd said. "How do you think I found you? Am I telepathic? Do I have strange powers?" "Wouldn't surprise me in the least," Malone said. "Now, about those spies--" "See what I mean?" Boyd said. "How did you know?" "Just lucky, I guess," Malone murmured. "But what about them?" "Well," Boyd said, "we picked up two men working in the Senate Office Building, and another one working for the State Department." "And they are spies?" Malone said. "Real spies?" "Oh, they're real enough," Boyd said. "We've known about 'em for years, and I finally decided to pick them up for questioning. Maybe they have something to do with all this mess that's bothering everybody." "You haven't the faintest idea what you mean," Malone said. "Mess is hardly the word." Boyd snorted. "You go on getting yourself confused," he said, "while some of us do the real work. After all--" "Never mind the insults," Malone said. "How about the spies?" "Well," Boyd said, a trifle reluctantly, "they've been working as janitors and maintenance men, and of course we've made sure they haven't been able to get their hands on any really valuable information." "So they've suddenly turned into criminal masterminds," Malone said. "After being under careful surveillance for years--" "Well, it's possible," Boyd said defensively. "Almost anything is possible," Malone said. "Some things," Boyd said carefully, "are more possible than others." "Thank you, Charles W. Aristotle," Malone said. "I hope you realize what you've done, picking up those three men. We might have been able to get some good lines on them, if you'd left them where they were."