"They're to you, aren't they?" "No." "Don't lie, damn you. You're halfway into a strait jacket and this is what's doing it to you." She smiled wearily. "Clever Jordan Lennox. Mummy's favorite bright boy." She got up and kissed his brow chastely. "We'll pickle it." Lennox followed her to the bar. "They're written to you, Kay. I came up here to help you out, but you've got to level with me. Who's writing them? Who's threatening you?" "I told you. I don't know." "This isn't anything to fool with, Kay. It's loaded with dynamite and it's set to go off Sunday." "What the hell do I care what happens Sunday," she blazed. "The whole damned show can bloody off Sunday. Give me the damned letters." She snatched the photostats from him. "They're not to me. Look at this line in Number four. 'You black-headed lying etcetera.' Is that me?" She jabbed at her red hair angrily. "That's red. It's always been red. If you don't believe me I can show you the convincer. Go look for somebody else, Lennox." Lennox examined the line silently, then put the photostats away. When he looked at Kay again, she was smiling crookedly, her eyes still terrified. "What d'you say, Lennox?" "On my way." "I've changed my mind again." "No you haven't." "One for the road?" "No thanks." "Christ, you're a bloody Square, Lennox." "I guess everybody is, one way or another." "Mummy's favorite model boy. That's the way out." She waved her arm indifferently. "My love to your model roommate, Sam Stacy." "Stacy! Is that it, Kay? Oliver Stacy?" Lennox stepped to her and took her shoulders. "Is he what's eating you out?" "It was a slip. I meant Cooper. Sam Cooper, of course. I always get his name mixed up with Oliver's. Let go of me, Lennox. Damn you, let go of me." "Is it Stacy?" "To hell with Stacy. It was a slip, I tell you. Slip of the tongue...." She began to shake and clung to him. "My God, Lennox. My God! I haven't seen him in two weeks, outside rehearsal. 'Good morning. Good night. Take it from the top. Cue, please. Take your cross after I say the line. Oh Jesus, Lennox, what's he doing to me?" "Running up a score, Kay. Face it." "You son of a bitch!" Kay wrenched herself out of his arms. "You're gloating too, aren't you? All of you. Counting up your scores. Get lost, Lennox. Get lost fast!" Lennox got lost fast. Down on the street he murmured: "But she's the one who's lost. Lost in the tunnels. At least I gave her a half hour's entertainment. Balance! Two down and four to go." * * * * * It so happened that my wife was in Raeburn Sachs' office when Lennox dropped in. She had been called down unexpectedly. Sachs' wife, a discouraged creature with a sagging figure, led Robin down a twisting corridor in Grabinett's offices to the brain room where Sachs operated. He directed all Grabinett's shows.