e?" she said. "Elizabeth. Elizabeth Tudor, of course. I
used to be Queen."

"Of England," Malone said faintly. "Malone, look--" Boyd began.

"Let me get it all at once," Malone told him. "I'm strong. I can take
it." He twisted his hat again and turned back to the little old lady.

"You're immortal, and you're not really Miss Thompson, but Queen
Elizabeth I?" he said slowly.

"That's right," she said. "How clever of you. Of course, after little
Jimmy--cousin Mary's boy, I mean--said I was dead and claimed the
Throne, I decided to change my name and all. And that's what I did.
But I am Elizabeth Regina." She smiled, and her eyes twinkled merrily.
Malone stared at her for a long minute.

_Burris_, he thought, _is going to love this._

"Oh, I'm so glad," the little old lady said. "Do your really think he
will? Because I'm sure I'll like your Mr. Burris, too. All of you FBI
men are so charming. Just like poor, poor Essex."

Well, Malone told himself, that was that. He'd found himself a
telepath.

And she wasn't an imbecile.

Oh, no. That would have been simple.

Instead, she was battier than a cathedral spire.

* * * * *

The long silence was broken by the voice of Miss Wilson.

"Mr. Malone," she said. "You've been thinking." She stopped. "I mean,
you've been so quiet."

"I like being quiet," Malone said patiently. "Besides--" He stopped
and turned to the little old lady. _Can you really read my mind?_ he
thought deliberately. After a second he added: ... _your Majesty?_

"How sweet of you, Mr. Malone," she said. "Nobody's called me that for
centuries. But of course I can. Although it's not reading, really.
After all, that would be like asking if I can read your voice. Of
course I can, Mr. Malone."

"That does it," Malone said. "I'm not a hard man to convince. And when
I see the truth, I'm the first one to admit it, even if it makes me
look like a nut." He turned back to the little old lady. "Begging your
pardon," he said.

"Oh, my," the little old lady said. "I really don't mind at all.
Sticks and stones, you know, can break my bones. But being called
nuts, Mr. Malone, can never hurt me. After all, it's been so many
years--so many hundreds of years--"

"Sure," Malone said easily.

Boyd broke in. "Listen, Malone," he said. "Do you mind telling me what
the hell is going on?"

"It's very simple," Malone said. "Miss Thompson here--pardon me; I
mean Queen Elizabeth I--real