Burris frowned. "There are still domestic cases," he said. "Like juvenile delinquents stealing cars inter-state, for instance. If you remember." He paused, then went on: "But the fact remains: Russians are not stupid. Not by a long shot." "All right," Malone said agreeably. "Do you really think, then," Burris said instantly, "that a spy ring could be as utterly inefficient as the one described in those confessions?" "Lots of people are inefficient," Malone said. "Not spies," Burris said with decision. "Do you really believe that the Russians would send over a bunch of operatives as clodheaded as these are pretending to be?" "People make mistakes," Malone said weakly. "Russian spies," Burris said, "do not make mistakes. Or, anyhow, we can't depend on it. We have to depend on the fact that they're operating at peak efficiency, Malone. Peak." Malone nearly asked: "Where?" but controlled himself at the last minute. Instead, he said: "But the confessions are right there. And, according to the confessions--" "Do you really believe," Burris said, "that a trio of Soviet agents would confess everything as easily as all that if they didn't intend to get something out of it? Such as, for instance, covering up their methods of doing damage? And do you really believe--" Malone began to feel as if he were involved in the Athanasian Creed. "I don't think the spies are the real spies," he said stubbornly. "I mean the spies we're all looking for." "Do you mean to stand there and tell me," Burris went on inexorably, "that you take the word of spies when they tell you about their own activities?" "Their confessions--" "Spies can lie, Malone," Burris said gently. "As a matter of fact, they usually do. We have come to depend on it as one of the facts of life." "But Queen Elizabeth," Malone said stubbornly, "told me they weren't lying." As he finished the sentence, he suddenly realized what it sounded like. "You know Queen Elizabeth," he said chummily. "The Virgin Queen," Burris said helpfully. "I wouldn't know," Malone said, feeling uncomfortable. "I mean Rose Thompson. She thinks she's Queen Elizabeth and I just said it that way because--" "It's all right, Malone," Burris said softly. "I know who you mean." "Well, then," Malone said. "If Queen Elizabeth says the spies aren't lying, then--" "Then nothing," Burris said flatly. "Miss Rose Thompson is a nice, sweet, little old lady. I admit that." "And she's been a lot of help," Malone said. "I admit that, too," Burris said. "But she is also somewhat battier, Malone, than the entire Order Chiroptera, including Count Dracula and all his happy friends." "She only thinks she's Queen Elizabeth I," Malone said defensively. "That," Burris said, "is a large sort of _only_. Malone, you've got to look at the facts sensibly. Square in the face." Malone pictured a lot of facts going by with square faces. He didn't like the picture. "All right," he said.