“Not a chance. But I know you two. Gentle Jax playing a thick cop is one for the books.”

Beck broke in from across the hall where he was apparently sulking: “Don’t give it away, Jo.”

“Are you crazy?” It was as though ¼maine had been requested not to smash every sacred ethic of the Guild. He radiated a blast of indignation that made Beck grin.

All this during the second in which Powell again kissed Maria’s brow with chaste devotion and gently disengaged himself from her tremulous grasp.

“Ladies and gentlemen: we’ll meet again in the study.”

The crowd of guests moved off, conducted by the Captain. They were chattering with renewed animation. It was all beginning to take on the aspect of a fabulous new form of entertainment. Through the buzz and the laughter, Powell felt the iron elbows of a rigid telepathic block. He recognized those elbows and permitted his astonishment to show.

“Gus! Gus Tate!”

“Oh. Hello, Powell.”

“You? Lurking & Slinking?”

“Gus?” Beck popped out. “Here? I never tagged him.”

“What the devil are you hiding for?”

Chaotic response of anger, chagrin, fear of lost reputation, self-deprecation, shame—

“Sign off, Gus. Your pattern’s trapped in a feedback. Won’t do you any harm to let a little scandal rub off on you. Make you more human. Stay here & help. Got a hunch I can use another 1^st. This one is going to be a Triple-A stinker.”

After the hall cleared, Powell examined the three men who remained with him. Jo ¼maine was a heavy-set man, thick, solid, with a shining bald head and a friendly blunt-featured face. Little Tate was nervous and twitchy… more so than usual.

And the notorious Ben Reich. Powell was meeting him for the first time. Tall, broad-shouldered, determined, exuding a tremendous aura of charm and power. There was kindliness in that power, but it was corroded by the habit of tyranny. Reich’s eyes were fine and keen, but his mouth seemed too small and sensitive and looked oddly like a scar. A magnetic man, with something vague inside him that was repellent.

He smiled at Reich. Reich smiled, back. Spontaneously, they shook hands.

“Do you take everybody off guard like this, Reich?”

“The secret of my success,” Reich grinned. He understood Powell’s meaning. They were en rapport.

“Well, don’t let the other guests see you charm me. They’ll suspect collusion.”

“Not you, they won’t. You’ll swindle them, Powell. You’ll make ’em all feel they’re in collusion with you.”

They smiled again. An unexpected chemotropism was drawing them together. It was dangerous. Powell tried to shake it off. He turned to ¼maine: “Now then, Jo?”

“About the peeping, Linc…”

“Keep it up on Reich’s level,” Powell interrupted. “We’re not going to pull any fast ones.”

“Reich called me in to represent him. No TP, Linc. This has got to stay on the objective level. I’m here to see that it does. I’ll have to be present at every examination.”

“You can’t stop peeping, Jo. You’ve got no legal right. We can dig out all we can—”