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In the background Zeke stood shaking his head, a fighter who had just gotten to his feet after the count of ten. Patti turned on him and flared in anger, “Did you have to step on his tail?”

“Yes,” Mike put in, “what kind of an FBI agent are you?”

Zeke said quietly, “I’m sorry, terribly sorry, but I’m sure Mr. Balter will understand when this is all over and I ex plain everything to him. You won’t, of course, you just mustn’t tell him now, because it you do it would wreck ev­erything. You have to realize that so much depends on you, that the FBI is counting on you to continue to work with us no matter what comes up.”

He repeated, “I’m sure Mr. Balter will understand.”

“I doubt it,” Mike said. “I wouldn’t, if I had seen with my own eyes – “

“He will,” Ingrid said with conviction, “because he’s a liv­ing doll. If I were a couple years older I’d throw myself at him.”

“You do now,” Mike said.

Zeke withdrew as gracefully as the circumstances would allow. He felt unexplainably guilty, as if what had happened was his fault. Yet, in backtracking, he didn’t believe he could have acted otherwise. He had taken every possible pre­caution. His guilt stemmed, he recognized finally, from the fact that he had permitted himself to become emotionally involved with the Randalls. He was hurt deeply because Patti was hurt, and Ingrid, too. He discovered he liked them immensely, more than he realized. It took a crisis to awaken a man to his feelings.

He busied himself with the radio. “All units, stand by. In­formant expected to begin operation at scheduled hour.”

D.C., who had been tending his wounded member, quit to stare at him. Zeke stared right back, muttering, “I get into gun battles for you, fight off police dogs, and keep you from getting run over – and what do you do? Scream bloody mur­der the first time some little thing happens.”

22

The cuckoo was preparing to strike six when Patti went to the bedroom for a change of clothes. She guessed she should have called or knocked. She was always surprising Zeke. This time he had his shoes off, and began scrounging around for them. “They’re here someplace,” he said, casting a suspicious glance toward D.C.

“Are you a kicker offer, too?” she asked. It was surprising how much they had in common.

D.C. sat on the chest top and displayed unusual interest in what was transpiring. He had his moods. He might be bored and blasé note 13 one day, and the next, the scholar who was eager to learn all he could about his fellow man. Now his bright, full eyes followed first the one, then the other.

As she went to the clothes closet, she said, “I’m sorry I blew up.”

“I don’t blame you.” He was still searching for his shoes. “I would’ve, too.” He looked up from the floor, sending her a smile that warmed her all over. “I should’ve kept it from happening but I haven’t had much practice hiding in girls’ bedrooms. They don’t teach practical things like that in the Bureau. Oh, here they are.”

He was as elated as if he had trapped a bear. He found them where he had placed them, on an end ‘table.

Patti said, “Ingrid talked with Mr. Balter. He promised her he’d keep quiet.”

“How’d she manage that?”

Patti left the closet with a red Italian knit. “She wouldn’t tell me but I can guess. She probably turned on the tears. If this gets out, she says, it will hurt her so for everyone to know her sister is a tramp, and it doesn’t happen very often, and there’s hope for her if she marries the right man. I can just hear her telling him what a sweet, dear person he is, and I can see him puffing up like a toad and – darnit, where’re those earrings?”

Her fingers rummaged through a little green jewelry case on top of the chest alongside D.C. who dug in a paw to help. “No, thanks,” he said, removing the paw. “I remember putting them right here yesterday. They’re always running off and hiding.”

Zeke put on his coat. ‘I’ve got a pair of cuff links I’m going to get out a wanted bulletin on if they don’t show up soon.”

He turned, toward D.C. and sneezed. “What about him? Is he going out tonight?”

Patti rubbed his ears, and he purred and stretched. “How about it, D.C?”

He meowed softly, and Patti translated, “He says sure, why not? Except he’s stricken Greg’s place from his route after what happened last night.”