Suddenly Crane smiled. Then he chuckled. Then he took an address book
out of his desk drawer and thumbed through the pages.

* * * * *

Frank Corson stared dejectedly at the carpet in Rhoda Kane's apartment.
"I tried," he said. "I tried damned hard. But it just didn't do any
good."

Rhoda sat beautifully poised, a picture of sophisticated perfection. She
wore an obviously expensive costume featured by lounging slacks that
could have been molded to her body. The afternoon sun glinted on a
hairdo right out of _Vogue_ or _Harper's Bazaar_. Her expression was
distant; a look of impersonal pity showed on her face as she regarded
Frank.

"Tell me about it, sweetie."

Frank cringed inwardly at the appellation. In Manhattan, everyone called
everyone else _sweetie_.

"There wasn't much to it. I called Taber and then went down to see him.
I told him exactly how I felt about things and demanded more
information."

Rhoda frowned. "You _demanded_? Frank! I'm disappointed in you. The
indignant citizen bit, I suppose. Don't you know how to talk to people?
Your bedside manner must be tremendous."

"Rhoda! For God's sake!"

She brushed his anger away with a graceful, deprecating wave of her
hand. "What did you say to him?"

"I was just telling you. I said that with a man killed in my room I had
a right to some protection. I--"

"Protection! What did you do? Ask the man to hide you? Why didn't you
get down on your knees and beg his pardon for living?"

Frustrated anger made Corson's lips tremble. "I did the best I could! I
told him that if I couldn't find out from him what was going on, I'd go
to the New York police. I told him I had a right to know about these
androids."

"And he told you the only right you had was to drop dead, I suppose."

Frank Corson got to his feet. His face was stiff. His eyes were
tortured. He ran a helpless hand along his jaw.

"All right, Rhoda. All right. If this is the way you want it, there's
nothing I can do."

"What do you mean--the way I want it? All I've been trying to do is put
a little courage into you? Didn't Taber tell you a thing about the
androids?"

"He wasn't as brutal as I made it sound. In fact, he's a rather nice guy
in a tough spot."

"I'm sure of that, but we couldn't care less. What did he say about the
androids?"

A new, desperate wariness had been born in Frank Corson. He could take
only so much and now he regarded Rhoda with a