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His heavy fingersopened and closed aimlessly, as he stared across the room at Arnold andback at Beardsley. Finally his teeth snapped together. "Beardsley," hechoked--"I warn you, if this is some sort of trickery--"

  Beardsley shook his head solemnly. "You'd do well to believe me, sir. Iwas never more serious."

  "So you're determined to go on with it! Very well, Beardsley. You havesomething like forty minutes, and believe me you'd better proveyourself! May I remind you"--fraught with meaning, his voice bordered onanticipation--"may I remind you, Beardsley, that already you've givensufficient cause for a complete review of your qualifications asCooerdinator?"

  Beardsley looked at him and smiled. "Yes, sir. And may I remind _you_,sir," he nodded toward the far door, "that your guests have arrived?"

  * * * * *

  Mrs. Carmack, Beardsley thought as he watched her, was that rare type ofwoman who could defy all the current conventions of style and carry itoff successfully; her type of beauty was unostentatious and yet vibrant.She was dressed impeccably in black and silver, her hair was authentichoney-blonde in a coronet braid, and her face possessed that pure lineof profile together with the quality of translucence one sees in rareporcelain.... Sheila Carmack was thirty-five, and she paid herbeauticians that many thousands annually to keep her looking fifteenyears younger. Just now she seemed in buoyant good spirits as shegreeted Mandleco.

  Not so the young man who accompanied her. The escort was a personBeardsley had never seen before, quite handsome and quite aware of it,with an impudent world-wisdom centered about his sharp eyes. He turnedimmediately to Mandleco with a bluster as phony as it was towering:

  "This is an outrage, sir! A damned outrage! On Sheila's behalf I deplorethese tactics, and I question your right! Our entire afternoon perfectlyruined...."

  "Correction, darling," purred Mrs. Carmack. "You mean our perfectafternoon entirely ruined." She turned smiling to the Minister ofJustice. "You really mustn't mind Victor."

  "Hello, Sheila," Mandleco greeted her wanly. "I must apologize for theinconvenience, but I assure you--"

  "Oh, but this is thrilling! I mean really!" Mrs. Carmack was gazingabout ECAIAC's room with considerable more delight than suspicion, andBeardsley watching her was thinking: _Thrilling! Can she really mean it?She must surely be aware of ECAIAC's task for today--today of alldays...._

  * * * * *

  He glanced uneasily down the room, and saw that Jeff Arnold was much toooccupied to have noticed the newcomers. He gestured to Mandleco, whofinally took the hint and escorted the visitors into the privacy of theoffice.

  There Mandleco offered drinks, but the young man named Victor refusedhis, preferring to maintain his air of injured dignity. Mandleco sighedand gave an accusing look at Beardsley. "I know this is unusual," heapologized to Sheila, "but I--uh--I _am_ rather hopeful that you mayfind it entertaining!" He gave a slight sardonic emphasis to the lastword. "If you'll just bear with me until our other guest arrives."

  Victor had been awaiting his chance. "Another? _Really!_ We're guests,Sheila, do you hear that?" He looked at Mandleco with immense disdain,gave a pert tilt of his head and surveyed the room with a grimace ofdistaste. "And just how long are we to be detained in this--this--"

  Beardsley's fist itched to splatter those handsome features around alittle. Instead he strode forward, said bluntly: "That'll do it, sonny!Who the hell are you anyway?"

  The handsome face sneered at him. "I am Victor d'Arlan! I am a goodfriend of Sheila's--of the family," he corrected. "We were on our way tothe Concert when those--those _impertinent_ men detained us. To think wemust forego Perro's Fifth Color-Concerto for Sub-Chromatics in favor of_this_!"

  Sheila's eyes danced with tolerant amusement. "Victor, please. Thispromises to be much more exciting; I'm sure Mr. Mandleco knows what heis about, and...." Wide and curious, her gaze went to Beardsley andlingered there.

  Belatedly, Mandleco made introductions. "Perhaps I should explain," hegave an improvident laugh, "that Mr. Beardsley's role at the momentis--ah--a little beyond the ordinary! That is, I--" He pausedmiserably, and then was saved for the moment as all eyes turned towardthe door.

  Brook Pederson had arrived and the attention of everyone was drawn tohim.

  * * * * *

  The effect was startling. The tele-columnist was a tall, dour andbushy-browed man who took a perverse sort of pride in the impression hegave of shabbiness. He slouched wordlessly into the room, hands thrustdeep in the pockets of a makeshift jacket. But there was nothing shabbyabout the man's perceptive and analytic mind, Beardsley remembered;true, Pederson had fallen from the heights since the ECAIAC debacle, buthis retirement from the limelight was more studied than sullen and couldonly have been his own choosing. Lately he had emerged again, and withall of his old news-sense and political acumen he was making hispresence felt ... he was a man of considered but lightning mood who,when asked for an opinion invariably gave an argument.

  Beardsley observed him shrewdly. From the depths of his mind came awarning, a restless unease that took root and blossomed into turbulence._This man will bear special watching...._

  Pederson came on into the room, nodded dourly at Mandleco (no love lostthere!) and remained alertly silent; for the merest instant he metBeardsley's gaze, and there was a definite challenge and something ofmockery. _Damn him_, thought Beardsley, _he knows why he's here ... buthow could he know? He's aware that he's on the tapes, too--even one ofthe Primes--and he doesn't give a damn!_

  Mandleco finished the introductions quickly and took over. It was plainthat he wanted to get through with this, but at the same time Beardsleysensed that he was no longer _quite_ so sure of Jeff Arnold and ECAIAC ...above all things, Mandleco had to avoid any hint of trouble with ECAIAC.

  And he managed that with an adroitness that bordered on the cunning.After some glowing comments on Beardsley's past esteemed record--withpointed emphasis on the pre-ECAIAC era--he ended with a trulyinspirational touch:

  "Let us just say, then, that you have been invited here in the interestsof an experiment which Crime-Central has been contemplating for sometime. An inquiry into--ah--certain facets of past investigatory methods.Crude as it may seem to you, certain factors may be forthcominghere--psychologic and derivational--which may later be refined, analyzedand integrated into the operational function of ECAIAC...."

  Beardsley stared at Mandleco. It was altogether a neat side-step, and healmost admired him for it.

  "Please understand, this is a necessary adjunct to the true developmentof ECAIAC. We shall have here two divergent lines of approach withinparallel fields. Actually, each of you will be an important co-aide inthis experiment! I would like you to cooperate fully with Mr.Beardsley's line of approach. Uh--vintage '60," he added for theiramusement.

  The reaction was immediate and varied. Victor d'Arlan examined hisfingernails and registered aristocratic boredom. Pederson slouched upagainst the desk, seeming amused at Mandleco's pitch ... but he wasn'twatching Mandleco. The gaze he fastened on Beardsley said plainer thanwords that he was quite aware of the situation.

  Only Sheila Carmack seemed fascinated, as she sat a bit straighter inher chair and peered brightly across her drink. It was obvious that she,for one, was taken in.

  "Why, I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" she sparkled. "Justlike, you know, in those--what did they call them--_whodunits_? It'sactually thrilling!"

  "It's archaic!" d'Arlan sneered.

  "It's heroic," said Pederson, his gaze still on the little Cooerdinator."Beardsley, I hope you pull it off. I actually do. Always did think youwere twice the man ECAIAC is!"

  Beardsley moved forward, not smiling. "Thanks," he said. "In that caseyou won't mind if I begin with you."

  "With _me_?" Pederson stared, then laughed suddenly and without mirth."Skip it, Beardsley! I know your methods, and I can tell you right nowit won't get you any--"

  Beardsley stopped him. "Ped
erson," he said, "as of now we agree on justone thing. I also think I'm twice the man. The only difference is thatI'm man enough to _really_ believe it." He paused and watched him absorbthat. "It's going to be ECAIAC or vintage '60, Pederson. Your choice!"

  * * * * *

  It was at once a rebuff and a challenge. Pederson then straightened upslowly, a muscle in his face flinched and then he smiled--with all buthis eyes. "All right," he snapped, "we'll begin with me. I'll fill youin plenty! You want to know if I saw Carmack the day of the