was supposedly a bachelor, but the auto-bungalow, similar to
Larry Woolford's own, showed signs of double occupancy, and there was
little indication that the guest had been a woman.

Disgruntled, Larry Woolford dialed the offices, asked for Walt Foster. It
took nearly ten minutes before his colleague faded in.

"I'm up to my eyebrows, Larry. What'd you want?"

Larry gave him Frank Nostrand's address. "This guy's disappeared, Walt."

"So?"

"He was a close friend of Professor Voss. I got a warrant to search his
house. It shows signs that he had a guest. Possibly it was the Professor.
Do you want to get some of the boys down here to go through the place?
Possibly there's some clue to where they took off for. The Professor's on
the run and he's no professional at this. If we can pick _him_ up, I've
got a sneaking suspicion we'll have the so-called Movement licked."

Walt Foster slapped a hand to his face in anguish. "You knew where the
Professor was hiding, and you tried to pick him up on your own and let him
get away. Why didn't you discuss this with either the Boss or me? I'm in
charge of this operation! I would have had a dozen men down there. You've
fouled this up!"

Larry stared at him. Already Walt Foster was making sounds like an enraged
superior.

He said mildly, "Sorry, Walt. I came down here on a very meager tip. I
didn't really expect it to pan out."

"Well, in the future, clear with either me or the Boss before running off
half cocked into something, Woolford. Yesterday, you had this whole
assignment on your own. Today, it's no longer a minor matter. Our
department has fifty people on it. The F.B.I. must have five times as many
and that's not even counting the Secret Service's interest. It's no longer
your individual baby."

"Sorry," Larry repeated mildly. Then, "I don't imagine you've got hold of
Frol Eivazov yet?"

The other was disgusted. "You think we're magicians? We just put out the
call for him a few hours ago. He's no amateur. If he doesn't want to be
picked up, he'll go to ground and we'll have our work cut out for us
finding him. I can't see that it's particularly important anyway."

"Maybe you're right," Larry said. "But you never know. He might know
things we don't. See you later."

Walt Foster stared at him for a moment as though about to say something,
but then tightened his lips and faded off.

Larry looked at the phone screen for a moment. "Did that phony expect me
to call him _