"Not much of anything. Just things like the National Association of Church Socials is holding a big social in Washington, and the President's going to attend...." "Kind of exciting, eh?" "Not very." "No murders, no robberies, no sex crimes, no Jack-the-Rippers, no embezzlings, no politicians stirring up trouble in Syria so they can raise the price of American gasoline?" "What are you driving at?" "I'm driving at another point," said Joe. "The second point is that the world's kind of peaceful all of a sudden--some change!" * * * * * Pearl looked at him, then her eyes lit up. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "Of course what?" "It's the Devil. He's chained up in our basement, and he can't go around stirring up trouble! _That's_ why there isn't any crime going on! Crime has taken a holiday while the Devil is chained up. Oh, Joe, isn't it wonderful!" "Yes," said Joe. "It's wonderful. If it gets much more wonderful, I don't see how we're going to pay our bills." "Pay our bills?" "Yes. I haven't made a dime in two weeks! Not one single client has come into my office since the night we chained old Beelzebub to the basement wall." * * * * * Pearl looked thoughtful. "Do you really think that he can't do any mischief while he's chained up? It doesn't seem to me that he's always been present at the scene of every crime. How could he be? Why, he'd have to be in a million places at once." Joe shrugged. "I used to think that he did it all with a sort of world-wide influence. Something like a powerful mental wave that suggested all sorts of evil things to susceptible people--which is almost everybody." "Or maybe he has his imps to carry out his orders--and they can't get to him now to get their usual briefing." "Seen any imps around the house?" asked Joe. She shook her head. "No. And even at night, when you have been at the office, I've not felt alarmed at the possibility of a prowler. I've had a sort of confidence that there wouldn't be any. I do believe it's true--the Devil is completely helpless to spread his evil influence outside our basement." "I guess you're right," admitted Joe. "I've felt the same thing--that feeling of there being nothing to worry about. I even trust the other guy when he's coming up behind me on the road, not to try to pass on a hill or a curve. He doesn't even blow his horn when you miss the red light changing to green. Everything's sweetness and light." "Well," said Pearl, "there's only one answer that I can see." "What's that?" "You'll just have to get another job. If you're not to get any more clients, you might as well quit being a private detective and look for something else to do." "I'll _have_ to," said Joe. "Our bank account won't last that long if we have to tap it each month for all our living expenses, that's sure! And we've got to keep up our payments on the mortgage, or we'll lose the house."