"It's a 3.8 Jaguar sedan," he said. "The parking lights burn when the headlights are on, European fashion: two small lights below and slightly outside two large ones. They will be coming fast, so they want you to keep your car's interior light on for easier identification."
"That'll cut my vision down," I said. "They'll have to do the spotting."
"They are prepared to," he said. "The description of the weapon corresponds with a knife recently issued to you. I gather you didn't fall on it yourself."
I said, "Hell, I haven't cut myself on one of my own knives since I was a kid. It's Alan, sir. He came for me with a club. I gather he calls it love."
There was a little pause. "Couldn't you have handled him with less damage, Eric?"
I could see my face in the glass of the booth. It looked lean and hard and ugly-that is to say, it looked pretty much as usual. "I told you, he was trying to scramble my brains with a shillelagh, sir."
"Even so, it seems a little drastic." Mac hesitated briefly. "You seem to have had a busy evening, Eric. I've had a call from Chicago. They, in turn, have had a call from the county authorities near Annapolis, Maryland. About a certain Mr. Peters, alias Petroni. The word murder was mentioned. Perhaps you'd care to explain."
I said, "The patient died on the operating table, sir."
"So I gathered, after making cautious inquiries. You were arrested, I understand?"
"Yes, sir, but they turned me loose."
"Well, that's something." His voice was dry. "What's Alan's condition?"
"Pretty good, I'd say. No signs of excessive internal hemorrhage. With surgery and antibiotics, he ought to make it."
"Yes. Nevertheless, he will be incapacitated for weeks, maybe months. And Jean is dead. What happened there? Did your hand slip?"
"I don't think so, sir. She just gave a little gasp and folded up. By the time I'd caught her and eased her to the floor, she was dead."
"There was no heart condition. Dr. Perry checked her thoroughly. Jean was physically sound."
"And psychologically?"
"What do you mean?"
"She was scared," I said. "She didn't like what she had to face, either at my hands or the opposition's. She'd bad it, sir. She was sick of looking in the mirror and seeing a drunken slob. She could hardly face the thought of looking in the mirror and seeing a beat-up drunken slob. As for the rest of the job-well, I have a hunch she was simply trying not to think of it at all."
"Dr. Klein examined her, too, and passed her."
"Who's Klein, our new psychiatrist? They come and they go, don't they? Well, I have no degree in any branch of medicine, but I know a scared and fed-up female when I see one, sir."
Mac said coldly, "Jean was a good agent and an excellent actress. She was supposed to act frightened and shaky. What are you trying to say, Eric? That it wasn't your fault that she died? That she simply died of fright?"
I gripped the telephone hard. It was no time to get mad. It never is. "No, sir," I said. "It was my job and my responsibility, sure. I simply don't believe I killed her by hitting her too hard. I don't think my hand slipped. I'd like an investigation."
"It will certainly be investigated, as soon as we can confer with the local authorities without the risk of publicity. I'm told an autopsy will be performed. I'll try to get a copy of the findings. But in the meantime we have Jean dead and Alan seriously injured, at your hands. That is two agents put out of commission in one night, Eric. The enemy seldom does better."
"No, sir," I said. "Maybe I should have gone to Texas."
The minute I said it, meaning only to say something suitably humble and rueful, I knew it was a mistake. I knew it by the quality of the silence that followed.
"I see," Mac said slowly, at last. "I see. That is how you feel, Eric? That was Dr. Klein's theory. When an agent makes a serious error, as you know, we review his record immediately. I called up Klein at once, when Chicago called me."
I said, "I grant the error. I've got to; Jean's dead. But there's nothing wrong with my record, sir."
"No, except the sheer quantity of it. Since you came back to us, after your wife left you a few years ago, you've had no real time off at all. Fatigue, was Klein's immediate diagnosis."
"The hell with Klein," I said. "We fought the whole damn war without a headshrinker in attendance. And the hell with fatigue, too. I haven't asked for any leave, have I? Not until this time-"
"Precisely," Mac said. "Fatigue and subconscious resentment, Klein said. And, probably, what he referred to as a mild superman complex. I don't like the term, Eric, but I have seen it happen before in men whose occupation allows them to kill and get away with it. After a while, their judgment becomes impaired, since human life has ceased to have much value for them."
I laughed shortly. "Sir, if you're suggesting that I went out and murdered a woman, a fellow agent, simply because I was mad at you for interfering with my lovelife-"
"I said the resentment was subconscious, Eric."
"Sure," I said. "Thanks. I love being a subconscious murderer, sir. Let's just skip the analysis, if you don't mind. Right now, I'd better get Alan on the road; but first I'd like to know if Dr. Norman Michaelis, our missing genius, has a sister or daughter-Miss Michaelis was the form of address used. Age twenty plus, height five feet minus, say ninety pounds after a heavy meal, silver-blonde hair, blue eyes."
Mac hesitated. "There is a daughter. Theodora. But, Eric-"
"Theodora," I said. "That's a lot of name for a little bit of girl. What's the family picture? Is there a wife and mother?"
"The wife and mother died in childbirth. Eric-"
"The daughter is here, sir," I said. "In fact, she got me out of jail by lying her pretty little head off. I have a date to find out why, as soon as I get Alan off my hands. I'll report by phone as soon as-"
"You will," Mac said, "report to me in person, at once."
I frowned at the phone. "But, sir-"
His voice was curt. "Any leads you have will be followed up, you may be sure."
I said slowly, "The invitation was issued to me, as Jim Petroni, alias Jimmy the Lash. The lady has just told the police a great big fib, remember? She's not likely to open her door and her mouth to any old government gumshoe, sir."
"We'll have to risk that. I want you to come in immediately, Eric."
"What's the matter, sir?" I asked. "Are you afraid I'll go completely berserk and give the outfit a bad reputation?"
Saying it, I expected any answer except the little embarrassed silence that followed, that said more plainly than words that that was exactly what he was afraid of. I'd murdered Jean with my subconscious resentment; I'd stuck a hole in Alan. I'd flipped. I was a menace on the loose.
"Let us say," he said carefully, "that Dr. Klein's advice is that you be recalled for examination and possible treatment-probably only rest. It is quite possible that you'll be on your way to Texas tomorrow or the next day. How would you like that?"
"Thanks," I said, "for the lollipop, sir."
"I want you to turn Alan over to Dr. Perry and follow them in. That's an order."
"Yes, sir," I said.
EIGHT
I SPOTTED THEIR Jag well ahead of time and flashed an answer to their signal, but they were coming right along, and it took them a while to fire the retro-rockets and get the flaps down and find a place to cross the median to the west-bound lane. In the meantime, I'd pulled the little sedan out to the shoulder to wait for them.