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Op Owen watched for a reaction to that remark, but Gillings, his lips thin and white with anger, did not betray himself. He gestured jerkily toward the one man in police blues.
"Do not serve that warrant now, Gillings!" op Owen said in a very soft voice. He watched the frantic activity of the needle on the p.a. dial.
"Go. Now. Call. Because if you ca
It was then that Gillings became aware of the palpable presence of those assembled in the corridor. A wide aisle had been left free, an aisle that led only to the open elevator. No one spoke or moved or coughed. The force exerted was not audible or physical. It was, however, undeniably unanimous. It prevailed in fortyfour seconds.
"My firm will wish to know what steps are being taken," the Coles man said in a squeaky voice as he began to walk, with erratic but ever quickening steps, toward the elevator.
Gillings' three subordinates were not so independent but there was no doubt of their relief as Gillings turned and walked with precise, unhurried strides to the waiting car.
No one moved until the thwapping rumble of the copter was no longer audible. Then they turned for assignments from their director.
City Manager Julian Pe
"I'd give my left kidney and a million credits to have enough Talent to judge a man accurately, Dave," he said as he crossed the room. He knew better than to shake hands unless a Talented offered but it was obvious to Daffyd, who liked Pe
Lester Welch snorted, looking up from the map he was a
"But you could prove that no registered Talent was responsible for that theft."
" 'A man convinced against his will, is of the same opinion still," Lester chanted.
"Les!" Op Owen didn't need our sour cynicism from any quarter, even one dedicated to Talent. "No registered Talent was responsible."
Pe
Welch made a rude noise. "He'll be persuaded when we produce, both missing person and missing merchandise. Nothing else is going to satisfy either Gillings or Coles."
"True," Pe
"It's a deliberate smear job—" Welch began gloomily.
"I thought of that," Pe
Op Owen accepted the information quietly. He had half-hoped… it was an uncharacteristic speculation for him. However, it did save tune and Talent to have had both store and police checked.
It had become general practice to have a strong telepathic receiver in the entourage of any prominent or controversial public figure. That Talent was rarely identified publicly. He or she usually performed some obvious service so that their constant presence was easily explicable. Pat Tawfik was overtly Pe
"I have, however," Pe
"I wish I knew. We've got every available perceptive out on the off chance that this—ah, renegade happens to be broadcasting joy and elation over her heist."
"Her?"
"The consensus is that while a man might lift furs and jewels, possibly the dress, only a woman would take the shoes, too. Top finders are coming in from other Centers…"
"A 'find' is reported, boss," Charlie said over the intercom. "Block Q."
As Pe
"A have-not," op Owen added.
"Gil Gracie made the find, boss," Charlie continued. "And the fur is not all he's found but he's got a problem."
"You just bet he has," Les muttered under his breath as he grimaced down at the map coordinates.
"Charlie, send every finder and perceptive to Block Q. If they can come up with a fix…"
"Boss, we got a fix, but there's one helluva lot of similarities."
"What's the problem?" Pe
"We'll simply have to take our time and eliminate, Charlie. Send anyone who can help." Then op Owen turned to Pe
Pe
" 'Finding' is like that. Sometimes the Talent sees it in lucid detail, sometimes it's obscured or, as in this case, there are literally hundreds of possibilities… apartments with the same light exposure, same scene out the window, the same floor plan and furnishings. Quite possible in this instance since these are furnished, standard subsistence dwellings. Nothing to help us single out, say Apartment 44E, Building 18, Buhler Street."
"There happens to be a Building 18 on Buhler Street, boss," Les Welch said slowly, "and there are forty-eight levels, ten units per floor."
Pe
"Nonsense, this office is thoroughly shielded and I'm not a pre-cog!"
"Before you guys took the guesswork out of it, there were such things as hunches," Pe
For op Owen's peace of mind and Lester's pose of misogyny, it was neither Building 18 nor Buhler Street nor Apartment 44. It was Apartment IE, deep in the center of Q Block. No one had entered nor left it– by normal means—since Gil Gracie and two other finders had made a precise fix. Gil handed op Owen the master key obtained from the dithering super.
"My Gawd," Pe