It’s morning now. I am full of Empirin and confidence. Yesterday afternoon I overwhelmed a sample of the local fauna with my charm (!) Her name is Ella, she is around fifteen or sixteen, very pretty, very stacked in a way the girls never got back at the university (with their damn bony shoulders and long necks). Typical high school kid, you know, nothing in her head but movie magazines and brassieres. Doesn’t even know what integration is, probably to do with sex. Anyway, she dug the handsome city slicker, and I do believe this is going to turn out to be the pipeline through to the high school set—very important.

The phone calls were enormously successful—to tell the truth, I didn’t expect such a great general reaction. Everyone sounded alike— No, we sho don’t like this yere sitchywashun; etc.—and there’s no more doubt whatever in my mind. After breakfast I’ll see the money boy I told you about (write you result tonight) and if he goes along with it, I think we’ll be rolling.­

More later—

Adam

P.S.—You might start thinking about what you want to be in der new order. Minister? Director of Propaganda? Official Philosophizer? Don’t laugh!

He folded the letter into an envelope and went downstairs. The television set was on, still flickering, and the three women were again seated on the red leather couch. Their heads swiveled, swiveled back.

“Good morning!” he said.

They mumbled a greeting.

He started outside but was halted by Mrs. Pearl Lambert, who had been sorting laundry behind the desk. “You right sure now you don’t want Mabel to clean your room?” she said.

“It’s all done,” he said, smiling. “How are you this morning?”

“Can’t complain too much, I guess,” the little woman said. “I’m sorry if I spoiled the mystery last night for you. I mean, by telling you who did it.”

“Not a bit. I enjoyed myself a lot.”

“It was good to have company.”

A man and a woman walked into the lobby. “ ’Morning, Mrs. Lambert!” The man was stocky, about fifteen pounds overweight, and had a complacent, pleased expression. The woman was young, but not youthful. Her hair was black, and she wore it in a faintly old-fashioned style, heaped upon her head. Her dress was black, also, but it was stylish. With a set of caps over those teeth, Adam thought, she’d be all right. A pretty good body. Nice legs.

“ ’Morning,” said Mrs. Lambert. “This here is our new permanent temporary guest that I was telling you about; he looked at the mystery with me last night. Mr. Cramer, I’d like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Griffin.”

The man stuck out his hand in a broad, unhesitating, sena­torial way. “How are things, Mr. Cramer?”

“I’m glad to meet you.”

“The Griffins been staying here on-and-off for—how long is it, Sam?”