“Yeah, ya know, the same thing happened to me last week,” Harry said. “I was cruisin’ Park Avenue, see, and this guy hails me. He’s got this overnight bag. And when he gets in, I hear this overnight bag goin’ tick-tick-tick. Well, to me, it sounds like-”
“Harry,” Max broke in, “time is of the essence.”
“Same with this guy last week,” Harry said. “He’s in a big hurry. Like if he don’t get where he’s goin’ somethin’ horrible’s gonna happen. So I said to him, I said, ‘Look,’ I said-”
“Harry, excuse me, but a computer’s life is at stake. Now, earlier today, in the Village, you picked up a gorgeous brunette and a metallic-looking fellow whose eyes revolved and-”
“Ya know, funny you should mention that. About, say, two weeks ago, I’m cruisin’ along Fifth Avenue, and I get hailed by this gorgeous brunette. I say to myself, ‘Now there’s a dame that looks familiar.’ So she gets in the cab, and I start thinkin’. Who’s she? From somewhere, I know her. But who’s she? I start goin’ over names in my mind. Elizabeth Taylor, I think. No. Sophia-”
“Harry,” Max interrupted, “it’s a fascinating story, but unless we find this gorgeous brunette and her captive very soon, it may be too late to save the Western World from complete domination by the Bad Guys. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for that, would you?”
“Well, live and let live,” Harry replied. “The trouble is, today, who’s the Bad Guys? I remember about twenty years ago, the guys that was the Bad Guys then is the Good Guys today. And the guys that was the Good Guys then is the Bad Guys today. So, the way I look at it, you got to take the long view. How do I know that the Bad Guys today ain’t gonna be the Good Guys tomorrow? And, ya know, I intend to be in business for a while. How do I know that the Bad Guys of today, when they’re the Good Guys of tomorrow, how do I know but what maybe they’ll want to hail a cab? So I don’t take no sides. Business as Usual, that’s my motto.”
“All right, forget about that,” Max said. “Let’s get back to that gorgeous brunette. The guy that was with her, this Fred-”
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t finish my story, did I? So, anyway, I said to myself, ‘Sophia Loren? No. Jean Harlow-’ ”
“Harlow was a blond.”
“How did I know, maybe she dyed her hair. Maybe she’s wearin’ a wig. Right? Anyway, it wasn’t none of them. You know who it was?”
“Who?”
“Agnes Cornfelder.”
Max nodded dimly. “Agnes Cornfelder.”
“Yeah. She lived down the block from me when I was a kid. Well, was I surprised! ‘Listen, Agnes,’ I says, ‘I remember you. How come when you was a kid you was a red-head and skinny and had buck teeth? How come now you’re such a gorgeous brunette?’ Ya know what she says? She says her name ain’t Agnes, and if she’d’ve ever knew me when she was a kid she’d’ve shot herself. That’s what ya get for tryin’ to be complimentary to a person. Ya know?”
“It don’t… it doesn’t pay,” Max said. “Now, getting back to the problem. Earlier today, you picked up a gorgeous brunette and a robot. What I want to know is-”
“A robot?”
“A computer, actually, but built in the form of a robot.”
“You’d think I’d remember a thing like that,” Harry said. “I don’t remember no robot.”
“Revolving eyes. Lever at his side.”
“Oh. Was that guy a robot? How about that! Boy, the mistakes in recognition a guy can make. I been tellin’ the guys I had Rock Hudson in the cab with me today. How about that!”
“Where?” Max said. “Where did you take them?”
“East Side. Posh apartment house. You want the number?”
“I want the number,” Max said.
Harry gave him the number, then added, “But if you’re one of them autogram hunters, you’re wastin’ your time. I just found out that guy ain’t Rock Hudson. Some kook tells me he’s some kind of a robot made up like Rock Hudson.”
“I’ll check it out,” Max said briskly, backing away.
The four blocks to the East Side address was only an hour drive through crosstown traffic. Reaching there, Max, Blossom and Fang jumped out of the car and approached the doorman at the entrance to the building.
“If it weren’t for the uniform, I’d say that guy looks familiar,” Max said.
“He certainly is nice-looking,” Blossom said. “I wonder if he’s married.”
“I’m still married,” the doorman said, having overheard the conversation.
Max and Blossom stared at him.
“94!” Max said finally.
“Right,” 94 replied. “This is the assignment I was in a hurry to get to.”
Max asked 94 if he had seen Noel and Fred enter the building.
“Yes-not long ago,” 94 replied. “They went to apartment four-oh-one. I know because, not long after they had gone up, the girl called down on the phone and asked to have a wrench and a pair of pliers sent up!”
“Fred! Poor Fred!” Blossom cried.
“I think this calls for haste,” Max said. “Come on!”
Hurrying after Max, Blossom called back to 94. “My regards to your three wives-and let me know if it doesn’t work out!”
Max and Blossom boarded the elevator, then, moments later, got out at the fourth floor. They raced down the corridor to four-oh-one. Without halting, Max threw himself against the door. It splintered, and fell in, and Max went tumbling after.
Blossom regarded him as he lay face down inside the apartment. “Don’t you ever knock?”
“This is how it’s done,” Max said, getting up. “Rule number seventeen.”
They looked around. The apartment was of a fairly good size, but completely vacant.
“A front, obviously,” Max said. “I wouldn’t be surprised at anything we might find here.”
“I’d be surprised if we found Fred,” Blossom said. “This place is completely deserted.”
“To the untutored eye, yes,” Max said. “But to a crack investigator this place fairly reeks of occupancy.”
“Oh? Like how?”
Max sniffed. “Get that? The scent of Mulligan stew! There’s something cooking!” He spoke to Fang. “After it, boy!”
Fang went galloping out the door and down the corridor.
“Coward!” Max yelled after him.
“No… look, he’s stopping at that door,” Blossom said.
Max followed after Fang. As he reached him, the door of the apartment that he had stopped in front of opened. A middle-aged woman put her head out.
“No dogs allowed,” she said.
“No dogs aloud? He hasn’t said a thing.”
“Well, he looked like he was going to bark.”
“Rorff!”
“He said he had no intention of barking,” Max told the woman. “And, speaking of barking, do you happen to be cooking a Mulligan stew?”
“The saints presarve us, yes!” the woman answered.
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d put a lid on it,” Max said. “The scent is pervading the apartment down the hall and interfering with an official investigation, the result of which the fate of the Free World hangs in the balance on-or something.”
The woman slammed the door in his face.
“The world is full of them, boy,” Max said to Fang. “Full of them!”
Max and Fang returned to the apartment.
“I heard something,” Blossom said excitedly. “While you were gone. It came from the kitchen!”
“Well, one thing, it wasn’t Mulligan stew,” Max said. “What did it sound like?”
“A kind of rattling.”
Max turned away, lowering his eyes. “A… kind… of… rattling…”
“What do you think it could be?” Blossom said fearfully.
“I want you to brace yourself, Blossom. Think of it this way: Life is fleeting, Life is short; the important think is to be a good sport!”
“You mean-”
“After all, you and Fred had a good time together-while it lasted. And… you can always build yourself another robot.”
“You mean-”
“And next time you may get a little closer to creating a look-alike Rock Hudson. Practice makes perfect, they say.”
“You mean-”
“I’m just putting two and two together, that’s all. The girl called down for a wrench and a pair of pliers. And you… you heard a rattling sound. Sort of metal on metal, was it?”