d her one of the filled glasses with an air. He was
beginning slowly to feel less like the nervous, uncertain Kenneth J.
Malone and more and more like good old Sir Kenneth Malone. "I can see
why he felt trapped," he said. "If a guy's been unhampered by four walls
all the time, even for only a year or so, he's certainly going to feel
penned in when he's stopped from going through them. Especially when
what stops him is just what he has--only more of the same. It might be a
little ego-crushing, and just a trifle claustrophobic."

"The main thing is," Dorothea said, "that everybody's so happy.
Commissioner Fernack, even--with Mr. Burris promising to give him a
medal."

"And Lynch," Malone said reflectively. "He'll get a promotion out of
this for sure. And good old Kettleman."

"Kettleman," Dorothea said. "Oh, sure. He's some kind of social worker,
isn't he? Only we never knew what kind."

"And now he's getting a scroll from the FBI," Malone said. "A citation
for coming up with the essential clue in this case. Even though he
didn't know it _was_ the essential clue. You know," he added
reflectively, "one thing puzzles me about that man."

"Yes?"

"Well," Malone said, "he worked in your neighborhood. You knew him."

"Of course I did," Dorothea said. "We all knew Kettleman."

"He said he had a lot of success as a social worker," Malone said. "Now,
I've met him. And talked with him. And I just can't picture--"

"Oh," Dorothea said. "We keep him around--kept him around, I mean--as a
sort of joke. A pet, or a mascot. Of course, he never did catch on. I
don't suppose he has yet."

Malone laughed. "Nope," he said. "He hasn't."

* * * * *

"Mike," Dorothea said.

"Mike what?"

"Mike," she repeated. "He's probably the happiest of all. After Mom and
I talked to him for a while, anyhow, and he began to ... to get used to
things. Now he's excited about being an FBI man." She looked worriedly
at Malone for a second. "You weren't kidding about that, were you?" she
asked.

She looked very pretty when she was worried, Malone decided. He leaned
over and kissed her with great care. After a while he said: "You were
saying?"

"Was I?" Dorothea said. "Oh, yes. I was. About Mike being an FBI man."

"Oh," Malone said. "Well, normally you've got to be a lawyer or an
accountant, but there are a few special cases. And maybe Mike would fit
in to the special-case bracket. If he doesn't--well, he'll b