ten, dear," the Queen said. "Your Kenneth has seen the truth of the
matter. Listen to him."
"Her Majesty not only caught the spy," Malone said, "but she turned the
spy right over to us."
He turned at once and went back down the long red carpet to the door. _I
really ought to get a sword_, he thought, and didn't see Her Majesty
smile. He opened the door with a great flourish and said quietly: "Bring
him in, boys."
* * * * *
The FBI men from Las Vegas marched in. Between them was their prisoner,
a boy with a vacuous face, clad in a strait jacket that seemed to make
no difference at all to him. His mind was--somewhere else. But his body
was trapped between the FBI agents: the body of William Logan.
"Impossible," one of the psychiatrists said.
Malone spun on his heel and led the way back to the throne. Logan and
his guards followed closely.
"Your Majesty," Malone said, "may I present the prisoner?"
"Perfectly correct, Sir Kenneth," the Queen said. "Poor Willie is your
spy. You won't be too hard on him, will you?"
"I don't think so. Your Majesty," Malone said. "After all--"
"Now wait a minute," Burris exploded. "How did _you_ know any of this?"
Malone bowed to Her Majesty, and winked at Barbara. He turned to Burris.
"Well," he said, "I had one piece of information none of the rest of you
had. When we were in the Desert Edge Sanitarium, Dr. Dowson called you
on the phone. Remember?"
"Sure I remember," Burris said. "So?"
"Well," Malone said, "Her Majesty said she knew just where the spy was.
I asked her where--"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Burris screamed. "You knew all this time and
you didn't tell me?"
"Hold on," Malone said. "I asked her where--and she said: 'He's right
there.' And she was pointing right at your image on the screen."
Burris opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He closed it and tried again.
At last he managed one word.
"Me?" he said.
"You," Malone said. "But that's what I realized later. She wasn't
pointing at you. She was pointing at Logan, who was in the next room."
Barbara whispered: "Is that right, Your Majesty?"
"Certainly, dear," the Queen said calmly. "Would I lie to Sir Kenneth?"
Malone was still talking. "The thing that set me off this noon was
something you said, Sir Andrew," he went on. "You said there weren't any
sane telepaths--remember?"
Burris, incapable of speech, merely nodded.
"But according to Her Majesty," Mal
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