“You seem to be doing good,” Miller said, looking around. He had a graying horseshoe of hair above his ears. “I guess you’re doing about the same kind of thing you used to do for the company.” When Leland nodded, Miller said, “Did you see the Herald-Press today? This is the first time I’ve had the chance to read up on it—”

“Excuse me,” Leland said. He got up, gesturing to the Thunderbolt. His mind was working and he wanted to find his ground. Mrs. MacIver wasn’t close to Miller, so Miller’s presence probably meant insurance, a lot of it, for fives and tens usually did not bring an agent this far. The more Leland thought of it, the more his curiosity was aroused. The one other time they had done real business together, when Leland had been chief of Manitou’s Investigations Division, Miller’s suspicions had led to a doctor who had been encouraging bribes from policy applicants. When that had ended, Miller had kept coming back, clouding Leland’s memory of the case with long, boring hours of following the company policy of being nice to agents. Mrs. MacIver could still be a cluck, but Leland found it increasingly hard to believe. When he returned to his desk, the light on the telephone was flashing.

It was Hugh Thoms. He wanted to deliver a report but Leland told him to save it. Leland outlined the plan to move Hugh into Bonney’s while Harry McLeod took over the custody case. Leland told Hugh to hold his ground until McLeod came to relieve him. When Hugh said that he understood, Leland said good and pushed the disconnect button.

“Small difficulties,” he said over his hand to Miller.

Miller nodded, with a gentle smile. He had a face that was in the process of collapsing into his neck.