.K., let's get down to facts. Summa the
things you guys say don't stick together so good. Now, first place,
where's this guy Temple-Tracy you want knocked off?"

Reston-Farrell and Brett-James were both present. The three of them sat
in the living room of the latter's apartment, sipping a sparkling wine
which seemed to be the prevailing beverage of the day. For Joe's taste
it was insipid stuff. Happily, rye was available to those who wanted it.

Reston-Farrell said, "You mean, where does he reside? Why, here in this
city."

"Well, that's handy, eh?" Joe scratched himself thoughtfully. "You got
somebody can finger him for me?"

"Finger him?"

"Look, before I can give it to this guy I gotta know some place where
he'll be at some time. Get it? Like Al Rossi. My finger, he works in
Rossi's house, see? He lets me know every Wednesday night, eight
o'clock, Al leaves the house all by hisself. O.K., so I can make plans,
like, to give it to him." Joe Prantera wound it up reasonably. "You
gotta have a finger."

Brett-James said, "Why not just go to Temple-Tracy's apartment and, ah,
dispose of him?"

"Jest walk in, eh? You think I'm stupid? How do I know how many
witnesses hangin' around? How do I know if the guy's carryin' heat?"

"Heat?"

"A gun, a gun. Ya think I'm stupid? I come to give it to him and he
gives it to me instead."

Dr. Reston-Farrell said, "Howard Temple-Tracy lives alone. He
customarily receives visitors every afternoon, largely potential
followers. He is attempting to recruit members to an organization he is
forming. It would be quite simple for you to enter his establishment and
dispose of him. I assure you, he does not possess weapons."

Joe was indignant. "Just like that, eh?" he said sarcastically. "Then
what happens? How do I get out of the building? Where's my get car
parked? Where do I hide out? Where do I dump the heat?"

"Dump the heat?"

"Get rid of the gun. You want I should get caught with the gun on me?
I'd wind up in the gas chamber so quick--"

"See here, Mr. Prantera," Brett-James said softly. "We no longer have
capital punishment, you must realize."

"O.K. I still don't wanta get caught. What _is_ the rap these days,
huh?" Joe scowled. "You said they didn't have no jails any more."

"This is difficult for you to understand, I imagine," Reston-Farrell
told him, "but, you see, we no longer punish people in this era."

That took a long, unbelieving moment to sink in. "You mea