specifications we had fed the computer. They were listed in four
different groups, according to the distance they lived from the scene
of the crime--half a mile, two miles, five miles, and "remainder," the
rest of the city.

"All we got to do," Kleek said complacently, "is start rounding 'em
up."

"You make it sound easy," I said tightly.

He put down his coffee cup. "Hell, Roy, it _is_ easy! We've got all
these characters down on the books, don't we? We know what they are,
don't we? Look at 'em! Once in a while a new one pops up, and we put
him on the list. Once in a while we catch one and send him up.
Practically cut and dried, isn't it?"

"Sure," I said.

"Look, Roy," he went on, "we got it down to a fine art now--have for
years." He waved in the general direction of the computer. "We got the
advantage that it's easier to sort 'em out now, and faster--but the
old tried-and-true technique is just the same. Cops have been catching
these goons in every civilized country on Earth for a hundred years by
this technique."

"Sam," I said wearily, "are you going to give me a lecture on police
methods?"

He picked up his cup, held it for a moment, then set it down again,
his eyes hardening. "Yes, Roy, I am! I'm older than you are, I've got
more years on the Force, I've been working with Homicide longer, and I
outrank you in grade by two and a half years! Yes, I figure it's about
time I lectured you! You want to listen?"

I looked at him. Kleek is a good cop, I was thinking, and he deserves
to be listened to, even if I don't agree with him.

"O.K., Sam," I said, "I'll listen."

* * * * *

"O.K., then." He took a breath. "Now, we got a system here that works.
The nuts always show themselves up, one way or another. Most of 'em
have been arrested by the time they're fourteen, fifteen years old.
Maybe we can't nail 'em down and pin anything on 'em, but we got 'em
down on the books. We know they have to be watched. We got ninety per
cent of the queers and hopheads and stew-bums and firebugs and the
rest of the zanies down on our books"--he waved toward the computer
again--"and down in the memory bank of the computer. We know we're
gonna get 'em eventually, because we know they're gonna goof up
eventually, and then we'll have 'em. We'll have 'em"--he made a
clutching gesture with his right hand--"right where it hurts!

"You take this Donahue killer. We know where he is. We can be pretty