“Who does, dear boy? He lacks charm.” Barker said this as if it were the ultimate crime. “Sasha would have blown him out of the water in less than a year. His ratings had slipped badly, you know—after a winning streak last year, he has slipped to a point or two behind Brokaw, Jennings, and Rather, and he’s still sinking. He’s already worked at ABC and NBC, and neither would have him back; and I know for a fact that Larry Tisch despises him, so that shuts him out of CBS. Then here comes Sasha, hipping him over at the anchor desk, loaded for bear. A power struggle began the day the first rumor hit the street about Sasha’s new job, and, if Harkness lost, where would he go? He’d be making solemn pronouncements on Public Radio, like Dan Schorr, and his ego would never accept that. No, sir, Barron Harkness is a man with a motive.”

“I think I should tell you,” Stone said, looking at his watch, “that Barron Harkness got off an airplane from Rome just about an hour ago.”

Barker’s face fell. “I’m extremely sorry to hear it,” he said. “But,” he said, brightening, “if I were you I’d make awfully sure he was really on that plane.”

“Don’t worry,” Stone said, “that’s been done. Tell me, would it violate some journalistic ethic if you gave me a list of the people you interviewed about Miss Nijinsky?”

Barker shook his head. “No. I’ll do even better than that; I’ll give you a paragraph on each of them and my view as to the value of each as a suspect.”

“I’d be very grateful for that.”

The writer turned sly. “It’ll have to be a trade, though.”

“What do you want?”

“When you find out what’s happened to Sasha and who is responsible, I want a phone call before the press conference is held.”

Stone thought for a moment. It wasn’t a bad trade, and he needed that list. “All right, you’re on.”

“It’ll take me a couple of hours.”

“You have a fax machine?”

Barker looked hurt. “Of course.”

Stone gave him a card. “Shoot it to me there when you’re done.” He got up.

Barker rose with him. “I’m having a few friends in for dinner this evening, as you can see,” he said, waving a hand at the dining room. “Would you like to join us?”

“Thanks,” Stone said, “but until I’ve solved the Nijinsky problem, there are no dinner parties in the picture.”

“I understand,” Barker said, seeing him out. “Perhaps another time?”

“Thank you,” Stone said. While he waited for the elevator, he wondered why Hi Barker would ask a policeman to dinner. Well, he thought, as he stepped from the elevator into the lobby, if he solved this one, he would become a very famous policeman.