Paul stretched and said, sleepily: "Thanks, Sergeant. I guess everything will come out all right without a guard." "Okay. I'm glad for all concerned. For your information and not to be repeated, the character we got last night is--was--a petty crook with a record as long as your arm. A plain case of theft. Interrupted luckily. We call it closed." "Thanks again. And the ship?" "It's there as it was last night. So far as we and the BurAst guards know, no one but the crook was near it, and no one will be permitted to go near it until you come to take it up." Paul breathed easier. "Okay, see you later." "Your wallet, intact, will be delivered to your apartment within the hour. That closes that case, too." The policeman's voice sounded well pleased with himself and the night's work. Paul hung up and sprawled back in bed, thinking. There was no point in arousing the policeman's suspicions again. A howl of 'Why?' might delay Paul Grayson; might cause another technician to be sent to Proxima I to check the arrival of the radio beam. Paul had all the reason in the galaxy for wanting to be there himself, and an equally large quantity of reasons for not wanting someone else running his ship. But there _was_ more to this than met the eye. Paul reached for a cigarette and laid back in bed blowing smoke at the ceiling. A smile touched his lips. Aside from the annoyance at being delayed for twenty four hours, it had been one large evening. Then his grin died and he reached out one quick arm and picked up the telephone again. He dialed a number and waited until the ringing was answered. "Stacey?" "This is Stacey's office." "Is he there?" "Who's calling, please?" "Tell him Paul Grayson--if he's up yet." "He's up," came the cheerfully amused voice at the other end. "But he's still grumpy." "I'll cheer him up," promised Paul. There was the click of a connection made and one quick burr from the ringing of the distant telephone. "Stacey," came the reply. "Paul Grayson." "Hell's Eternal--I thought you were on your way to Proxima." "Got delayed a day." Stacey was silent for a moment; Paul imagined that he could hear the clicking of the other man's mind as it started to analyze the situation. Then Stacey said: "What's on the technical mind, Paul? You didn't call me at this outrageous hour just to pass the time of day." "John, how much will it cost me to have a matter looked into?" "Normal charge is twenty-five a day and expenses. I think I owe you a few favors. Make it expenses if it isn't too involved." "It might be." "Then we'll make some arrangement as soon as we know how involved it is. But Migawd, Paul, what brings you to the employment of a detective?" "Someone tried to steal my spacecraft last night." "Nuts. Call the coppers." "Nope. There's more to this than meets the eye." "What, for instance?" "I'll be over to tell you about it." "Big?" "I don't know. Bothersome, anyway." "I'll wait. Make it quick."