“No, it’s me,” said Glynis Colwyn’s voice. “I need to talk to you.” She sounded cold, grim.

“Sure. Where are you, I’ll—”

“You stay where you are,” Glynis said. “I’ll come over.”

Jake fiddled about the office for a few moments, then went back to his desk and phoned Tomlinson’s office again. The same reedy, superior voice answered.

“This is Jake Ross again.”

The aide asked, “And what can I do for you now, Dr. Ross?” He sounded slightly exasperated.

Jake realized he was biting his lip. “Uh, Mr. Tomlinson told me he would get someone to … uh, well … sort of watch out for me. You know, like a bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?” Jake could hear the surprise in the guy’s voice.

“That’s right.”

“How … unusual.”

“Do you know if he’s contacted anyone about that?”

A hesitation. Jake got the feeling that the aide was suppressing laughter. Finally, “No, Dr. Ross, I haven’t heard a thing to that effect.”

“Oh.”

“The Fain Security Company provides security for Mr. Tomlinson. You could ask them, I suppose.”

The aide’s smugly superior tone irritated Jake. “All right. That’s what I should do, I suppose.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Do you have their number?”

“They’re in the book, I’m sure.”

You self-important little prick, Jake thought. Aloud, he said, “Thanks. You’ve been a big help.”

“Just doing my job, Dr. Ross.”

Jake slammed the phone back into its slot, fuming. Now he’ll spread it all over campaign headquarters that I want a bodyguard. Damn!

A single rap on his door made him look up. Glynis Colwyn stepped into his office, her dark eyes snapping at him. She was wearing a knee-length dark wool coat over a maroon sweater and faded jeans, and clutched an expensive-looking leather purse in one hand.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded before Jake could get up from his chair.

“Sinclair?”

“Of course!” Glynis said, stepping up to his desk.

“I visited his wife, up in Vernon,” Jake said. As they both sat down, he added, “She’s a gambling addict and Leeds has helped the professor to cover it up.”

Glynis’s expression softened. “A gambling addict?”

“That’s what Leeds has on the professor. Apparently he’s put up a good deal of money to help pay Mrs. Sinclair’s gambling debts.”

Glynis shrugged out of her coat and let it drape over the back of her chair. “So that’s why the professor won’t go with Tomlinson.”

“That’s why.”

More sharply, she asked, “And what do you intend to do about it?”

Jake spread his hands. “I’ll have to tell Tomlinson, of course.”

“Jake, you can’t!”

“Why not?”

“It will ruin the professor. It’ll be a scandal.”