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him, but nobody else. It's a funny thing."
    Swayney said sharply, "Bring her in. Don't waste time fooling around."
    Durell said, "I want to play it this way. For Lew. Do you understand?"
    "Damn you, are you crazy? Bring her in!"
    "I tell you, she'll freeze. She won't talk any other way."
    "Leave that to me. If her brother's been palling around with Weederman, he's a traitor, he's selling us out. And the girl is just as bad. You can't take that chance."
    "You're condemning her already," Durell said. "I'll call back later."
    He hung up. Immediately afterward, he called another number that connected him with Hazel, in his office. He told Hazel everything that had happened.
    "Will you call Sidonie Osbourn for me?" Durell asked. "I hate to stick you with it, but I may not have time. Tell her I'll be out to see her as soon as I can."
    "Of course." Then: "Sam, was that you who just called Swayney?"
    "Yes. Why?"
    "The whole place is in an uproar. What are you doing?"
    Durell said, "My grandfather was a gambler, the best there ever was. I'm gambling on the girl. I think she's innocent, but confused. I think she trusts me a little. I hope so. It's a one-shot throw of the dice."
    "Sam, you always said gambling could never be part of this work."
    "Call Sidonie, please," he said. Then he hung up.
    He was sweating, but he felt cold. He dried his hands on a handkerchief. He wished he could have gone to see Sidonie Osbourn himself. When Deirdre came out of the ladies' room, he moved forward quickly to take her arm and guide her out to the sidewalk, where he hailed a cab. The girl was silent, docile enough now. Her face was pale, but her eyes looked better. Sitting beside her, he could sense the delicate perfume she used. Her mouth looked haunted. It was a lovely mouth, a beautiful face. She was shivering slightly, but he moved away from her on the back seat of the cab so as not to be in physical contact with her. Don't be a fool, he thought. Think of Lew, the two kids. Think of Sidonie tonight. You travel farthest and longest when you're alone. Especially in this business. Any crazy notions you began to have this morning — well, forget them. Drop it quick. You were right and Lew was wrong; you're alive and Lew is dead. Drop it. Forget it.
    He gave the cab driver the address of his apartment.

Chapter Seven
    He made a Creole omelet and a fresh pot of coffee in his kitchen and they ate on trays in the living room. The telephone rang twice, but he did not answer it. He did not think Swayney would outguess him and come doubling back to look for him with the girl here. Swayney would look everywhere else first. They had an hour, perhaps, before it became too dangerous to stay.
    The girl was silent until they had their coffee. Then she said bluntly, "You called your office from that bar, didn't you?"
    He didn't lie to her. "Yes."
    "But you still want me to trust you?"
    "My orders were to bring you in. This Weederman that you mentioned is a Russian agent. He was supposed to have been executed a few years ago, but apparently it was a phony. He has a smart, tough, and desperate apparatus in operation, determined to get their hands on your brother. Maybe to kill him, maybe to spirit him out of the country. The office thinks Calvin, with his past record, isn't too clean on it. They daub you with the same brush."
    "I see," she whispered.
    "I told them that I didn't believe either count," Durell said.
    "Why not? You don't know anything about me."
    He didn't quite know how to answer. "Call it instinct. Call it a gambler's hunch. I think you're innocent."
    "Thank you," she said, but he was not sure if her inflection was meant to convey irony or not. "I appreciate your trust in me."
    "Look, Deirdre. Two men have already died. One of them was a member of Weederman's outfit. The other, this morning, was my best friend."
    "I'm sorry," she whispered.
    "Can you imagine how I feel about it, then? I'm taking a chance, holding you out of the office. You've got to