“I volunteered because I—because I liked you,” Lou said. “Because I wanted to work with you, wanted to be with you.” “It’s more experimenting,” Malone said flatly. “More guinea-pigging around.” “It isn’t, Ken,” Lou said. “Believe me. Look into my mind. Believe me.” Malone tried. A second passed.... And then a long time passed, without any words at all. “Well, well,” Malone said at last. “If this is the life of a guinea pig, I’m all for it.” “I’m all for guinea pigs’ rights,” Lou said. “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Me.” “Agreed,” Malone said. “How about that crisis, by the way? Are you going to have to leave suddenly again?” Lou stretched lazily on the couch. “That’s all over with, thank God,” she said. “We had to get our agent out of Miami Beach, and cover his tracks at the same time.” “Tricky,” Malone said. “Very,” Lou said. “But—” Malone blinked. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Your agent? You mean you had Governor Flarion killed?” Lou nodded soberly. “We had to,” she said. “That paranoid mind of his had built up a shield we simply couldn’t get through. He had plans for making himself president, you know—and all the terrifying potentialities of an embryonic Hitler.” She grimaced. “We don’t like being forced to kill,” she said, “but sometimes we’ve got to.” Malone thought of his own .44 Magnum, and the times he had used it, and nodded very slowly. “There are still a couple of questions, though,” he said. “For instance, there’s that trip to Russia. Why _did_ you make it? Was it your father?” “Of course it was,” Lou said. “We had to get him back in and make sure he was safe.” “You mean that Vasili Garbitsch is a PSR member?” Malone said, stunned. “Well, really,” Lou said. “Did you think my father would really be a spy? We had to get him back to Russia; he was needed for work in the Kremlin. That’s why we nudged Boyd into making the arrest.” “And the others?” Malone said. “Brubitsch and Borbitsch?” “Real spies,” Lou said. “Bad ones, but real. Any more questions?” “Some,” Malone said. “Were you kidding about that drink in Moscow?” She shook her head. “I wish I had been,” she said. “But I was concentrating on Petkoff, who didn’t know a thing about the drugged drink. I didn’t catch anything else until after I’d swallowed it. And then it was too late.” “Good old Petkoff,” Malone said. “Always helpful. But he was right about one thing, anyway.” “What?” Lou said. “The FBI,” Malone said. “He told us it was a secret police organization. And, by God, in a way it is!” Lou grinned. Malone started to laugh outright. They found themselves very close and the laughter stopped, and there was some more time without words. When Malone broke free, he had a suddenly sobered expression on his face. “Hey,” he said. “What about Tom Boyd? He knows a lot but he hasn’t got any talents, as far as I know, and—” “He’ll be all right,” Lou said. “Andrew and the others have thought of that.” “But he knows an awful lot about the evidence I dug up.”