erson laughed bitterly.
"Wasn't even subtle about it! Said he liked my stuff, and would like to
see me at the top again where I belonged. Said he could arrange for me
to step into a top job at Central Telecast. Providing, of course, I
could manage to--ah--'forget' certain little items I'd uncovered."

* * * * *

Pederson was doing all right. Beardsley gave him his lead.

"He actually thought it would be that simple! I refused him outright,
and of course, he couldn't believe it. A man like that--We dropped all
pretense, there were some bitter words--"

Beardsley said quickly, "Could you elaborate?"

"Oh, I don't remember exactly. He went venomous! I suppose there were
threats. I told him he hadn't enough money _or_ influence to buy what I
knew, and that when I had it properly documented I intended to make a
national scandal of it." Pederson halted abruptly. "You know, it
occurred to me later that was a foolhardy thing to say!"

"Ah? Why is that?"

"Well, I had heard of that safeguard of his--the 'neuro-vibe'--and I
suppose there were other things, too. He was a cautious man, a dangerous
man. But," Pederson shrugged, "he let me into his home readily enough."

Beardsley lifted a finger. "Because he was confident he was going to buy
you--wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose that's it. Maybe I was lucky to get out of there so easily!
Anyway I did." Pederson stopped pacing, and his gaze bored into
Beardsley's. "So now to the big question. Yes, he was alive when I left
him. No, I never saw Carmack again. I went straight to my office and
worked until well past midnight; by the way, I have ample proof of
that--"

"Yes, I'm sure you do! What were your feelings at this point?"

"My feelings? I knew my life was in danger now! Carmack would be out to
stop me. I don't mind admitting I was ... well, rather relieved, when I
heard the news."

"Ah-h! And when did you hear it?"

Pederson glared, but his answer was quick. "Late the next afternoon, of
course! By habit I work late hours and I sleep long." With an air of
finality he threw a challenging look around. "I want to congratulate
whoever did it, and I don't much care whether the answer comes from you
or ECAIAC!"

Beardsley surveyed him solemnly. Pederson had little more than brushed
the surface, but it was enough, it served to set the pattern; he could
have sworn Pederson was aware of that. He said drily, "Thanks, Pederson.
Your story is--ve