I didn’t make a cent on that heist. In fact, it’s costing me. Would you like to know how much it’s costing me? However, that’s neither here nor there. And the fact that you couldn’t deliver is certainly not your fault. Nevertheless, the fact remains that the job did not come off.”

“Just a minute, Smith. Before—”

“Please let me finish. You and I have a deal. That stands. I’m not trying to pull out, Catell, because that’s not the way I work. But I’m asking you to stand by the terms of our agreement, just as I do. You’ve got to deliver.”

“You blaming me for that fluky setup?”

“Certainly not. And those to blame have been dealt with. You were present on one of the occasions yourself. I am suggesting, in all fairness to both of us, that you go along with me once more. I have—”

“I don’t operate that way, Smith. When—”

“I realize that, Catell. I realize the last operation cramped your style, there were holes in the planning, and I certainly didn’t get the benefit of your talent. The next time, all that will be corrected. I want you to be in on the planning, you can do your own research, and I’ll give you a percentage of the take.”

“You have it all worked out, haven’t you, Smith?”

“I have.”

And Catell knew there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

For a moment the thought made him see red. A thousand acrid hates rose in his throat. He closed his eyes, trying to control the fine trembling that crept through his body. He took a harsh breath. Watch it, Catell. You’re getting like a hophead taking the cold turkey. Hold on, for the sake of—for the sake of everything. Why am I cracking now? The knowledge of his strange new weakness drove fear into him.

“Is anything wrong, Catell?”

He opened his eyes, face still. “Nothing, Smith. Too much sun, I figure. Nothing’s the matter,” and then his strength came back. There were small beads of sweat on his forehead, but he was himself again.

“I was just thinking, Smith. I was thinking you’re right.”

“Good. We’ll talk about the details some other time. In general, it’s the same operation as the last. There’s a little resort up in the Sierras, small but expensive, where they run a sizable gaming room on weekends. You’ll go up and have a look yourself. I’ll give you a flat three thousand plus a percentage. We’ll go over that the next time. This will definitely be your last commitment—if you wish—and we’ll complete the rest of our affairs as soon as this is over.”

Smith opened his wallet and took out three bills. “Fifteen hundred on account. Take it.”

Catell picked up the money and stuck it in his pocket. Then they shook hands, Smith making a brief smile. When Catell was at the door, Smith said:

“Before I forget it. There was a call for you. A woman by the name of Selma.”

“What!”

“The past, apparently, rearing its head, eh?”

“What did she want?”

“Nothing. I took the message, because she came well recommended. Our friend Paar gave her my number.”

Catell walked back into the room “Why did she call?”

“She said to tell you she had arrived in town. And you should give her a ring at the Empress Arms.”

“That all?”

“Yes. I’m not sure whether she was asking you or telling you. Why, Catell, you look almost human!” Smith gurgled a laugh and watched Catell’s face turn glum. “Ah, I don’t often do this, Catell, but would you care to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I was just surprised for a minute.”

“I noticed that. Sit down, Catell. Here, have one of my cigars.”

“Thanks, I don’t smoke cigars. Anyway—”

“Sit down, Catell.”

They sat for a moment while Smith unwrapped a cigar for himself.

“I’m not concerned with anything in your life, Catell, except insofar as it affects your work in my organization. Please understand that. Now, just as I cannot tolerate a squealer in my work, I cannot tolerate the kind of problems that some men seem to have with women. I don’t like messes, Catell.”

“You’re going a little far, aren’t you, Smith?”

“I don’t mean to. It’s true, though, isn’t it, that this Selma is a lush?”

“Would you believe it, Smith, I don’t know. Selma was a dame I knew about ten years ago.”

“How about Detroit?”

“Nothing. I’d just been out of stir a short while.”

“Ah, I don’t mean to sound superstitious, Catell, but the man who lived with Selma—Schumacher, I think—and the man who was with