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now.”
    I did some mental arithmetic. “Double would be more attractive.”
    “The point is negotiable. So what do you say?”
    “I’ll have to think on it.”
    “But what’s your initial feeling?”
    It sucks, I thought. Aloud I added, “I don’t want to leave All Souls, so I’ll give your offer very serious thought.”
    Again the partners exchanged glances. Relief was the primary component this time, tinged with incredulity in the eyes of the
     three who knew me well.
    Hank asked, “When may we expect your answer?”
    “Give me till close of business on Wednesday.”
    “Fair enough. In the meantime, if you have any questions—”
    “I know where to find you.” I smiled wryly at him, got up, and moved toward the door. Behind me I could feel an easing of
     the collective tension. I stepped into the hall, shut the door, and started toward the stairs.
    On my way past Ted’s desk I asked, “What’s the Latin for ‘between a rock and a hard place’?”
    “Sorry,” he said, eyeing me sympathetically, “the book doesn’t say.”

Three
    Before the partners’ meeting I’d needed something to take my mind off Hy; now I needed to think of him to keep myself from
     brooding. I sat down behind my desk in the window bay at the front of the second floor, swiveled around, and stared moodily
     at the houses across the little park. After a while I turned back to the desk, pulled the phone toward me, and dialed the
     number of the Spaulding Foundation.
    Kate Malloy, Hy’s executive assistant, answered. “You’ve heard from him!” she exclaimed when she heard my voice.
    “No, I haven’t, but after I talked with you this morning, I got concerned and did some checking.” Briefly I told her what
     I’d found out. “Kate, the phone-company credit card Hy used to make those calls from the airport—would it be his personal
     card or the foundation’s?”
    “He usually uses the foundation’s and reimburses us for personal charges later. I doubt he even has one for his home phone—you
     know Hy and plastic.”
    “Will you give me the four-digit code, please?”
    She told me, then repeated it. “You’re going to find out who he called?”
    “I’m going to try. I gather he uses this American Express card in the same way.” I read her the number I’d copied off the
     rental-car contract.
    “That’s right.”
    “Will you do me a favor and call American Express? I’d like to know if Hy used the card for anything after he rented that
     car.”
    “Sure. You sound as worried as I’ve been ever since I found out the plane’s still at Oakland.”
    “I am. I don’t like the fact that the car was damaged and dropped off by someone other than Hy. While I’ve got you on the
     line, will you also give me the name and number of his accountant?”
    “Barry Ashford, here in Vernon. I’ll check the phone book.” While she paged through it, she asked, “Why do you want to talk
     with Barry?”
    “This morning you mentioned that Hy left instructions with him to pay all bills as they come in, and he also paid his ranch
     hands two months in advance. I want to know if he gave any explanation.”
    “Good idea. Here’s the number.” She read it off to me. “Sharon, do you want me to go out to the ranch and talk with the guys?
     Maybe he mentioned his plans to one of them.”
    “If you would, I’d appreciate it. But I’ll bet he didn’t tell them a thing. There’re times when being the strong silent type
     isn’t a virtue—and this is one.”
    After I hung up, I checked my watch. Five to five. Quickly I looked up the number of the general aviation terminal at Oakland
     Airport and dialed. Sandy was about to go home, but willing to take a moment to check the number of the pay phone from which
     Hy had made his calls. Next I found Pacific Bell’s toll-free customer-service number in the directory; after listening to
     a recorded voice drone out a long list of options that seemed to encompass everything