ir and looked coldly at him. A gypsy
woman can give you the snootiest look in the world, right down her
aquiline nose, when she feels like it. It stopped Fred Plaice in his
tracks.

"Yes, Fred?" I said quietly.

"If you don't mind, Tinker," he said brusquely. "I'd like to be present
for this interview."

"Tinker?"

"I'm sorry, Gyp," he said. "I'm ... I'm upset."

"I'll bet you are, you sneak," Anita said. "Chief," she told me. "He was
fit to be tied when you chased us out. The first thing he wanted to know
was whatever had made you decide to get Tony Carlucci in here to trick
his gypsy snake. I was so mad that I flipped and told him it was _my_
idea."

"Is that why you're back?" I asked him.

"Get this calf-eyed girl Friday of yours off my back," he said stonily.
"Our security certainly doesn't permit your confidential assistant to be
in love with you. We're supposed to be checking each other constantly."

I hardly knew which of his two ideas to blast the hardest. I looked at
Anita first. She simply raised her head and looked me straight in the
eye. It could mean almost anything.

I tried Fred: "And you consider it's your job to check on me?"

"Of course. Goes without saying," he said. I shrugged. "At any rate," he
added, calming down. "I'm staying. Nothing outside of a direct order,
which I will protest to George Kelly, will get me to leave." The last
thing I wanted was trouble with the Director.

"Stay, Fred," I said. "But we'll have some things to settle afterwards."

"Maybe," he smiled. "It will depend. Right now I'd like to get a load of
this motivational research you've got cooked up."

"Don't bother," Mother said. "I've got more sense than to tie the rope
around my own neck. I'm not saying a word." She crossed her arms and sat
back in her chair with a granitic finality.

"So much the quicker," Fred said. "You can sentence her right now, Gyp!"

"Sure," I said. "Sure I can." I wish I could say that my mind raced to a
quick decision. No--I _couldn't_ think. Or almost couldn't. One idea
percolated through. Mother had made no "mistake" in calling Tony by my
name. She had read Fred's mind in the 'copter on the way from the jail,
and Anita's as she was ushered in. Her "mistake" could only mean one
thing--_Fred Plaice was not sure she was my mother_.

This much thought took time. Fred knew I was stalling. "Come on," he
snapped in a tone he had never dared to use to me before. "Let's have
the sentence!