“What happened to my broom?” he demanded.
“I had to leave it parked,” I said. “You can claim it tomorrow.”
“I’m eager to hear the story.”
“Well, it was quite a night, I can tell you.’
XXVII
MY DETAILED RELATION I gave to Ginny after sneaking back into our house. I was numb with exhaustion, but she insisted on hearing everything at once, whispered as we lay side by side. Her questions drew each last detail from me, including a lot that had slipped my mind or that I hadn’t especially noticed at the time. The sun was up before she fixed my breakfast and allowed me to rest. With a few pauses for nourishment and drowsy staring, I slept a full twenty‑four hours.
Ginny explained this to our FBI man as the result of nervous prostration, which wasn’t too mendacious. She also persuaded him and his immediate boss (Shining Knife had gone to Washington) that if they wanted to keep matters under wraps, they’d better not hold us incommunicado. Our neighbors already knew something was afoot. They could be stalled for but a short while, our close friends and business associates for a shorter while yet. If the latter got worried, they could bring more to bear in the way of sortileges than the average person.
The upshot was that we kept our guest. When Mrs. Delacorte dropped around to borrow a gill of brimstone, we introduced him as my cousin Louis and mentioned that we’d sent Val on an out‑of‑town visit while our burglary was being investigated. It didn’t rate more than a paragraph on an inside page of the daily paper. However, I was allowed to work again, Ginny to go shopping. We were told what number to call if we received any demands. Nothing was said about the men who shadowed us. They were good; without our special skills, we’d never have known about them.
On the third morning, therefore, I showed at Nornwell. Barney Sturlason was primed. He found a do‑not‑disturb job for me to do in my office?rather, to fake doing while I paced, chain‑smoked my tongue to leather, drank coffee till it gurgled in my ears?until time for an after‑lunch conference with some outside businessmen. I knew what that conference was really to be about. When the intercom asked me to go there, I damn near snapped my head off accelerating before I remembered to walk the distance and say hello to those I passed.
The meeting room was upstairs. Its hex against industrial espionage operated equally well against official surveillance. Barney bulked at the end of the table, collar open, cigar fuming. The assembled team comprised eleven, to help assure we’d harbor no Judas. I knew three well besides Barney and myself?Griswold, Hardy, Janice Wenzel?and another slightly, Dr. Nobu, a metaphysicist whom we had sometimes consulted. The rest were strangers to me. One turned out to be a retired admiral, Hugh Charles, who’d specialized in Intelligence operations; another was a mathematician named Falkenberg; a third was Pastor Karlslund from Barney’s church. All of these looked weary. They’d worked like galley slaves, practically up to this minute. The last pair seemed fresh, and total undistinguished except that one had a large sample case which he’d put on the table.
Before he got to their names, Barney made a pass and spoke a phrase. “Okay,” he said, “the security field is back at full strength. Come on out and join the coven.” He grinned at me. “Steve, I’d like you to meet Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown, representing the company whose proposal we’re to discuss today.”
Their outlines blurred, went smoky, and firmed again as the Seeming passed. Ginny’s hair gleamed copper in the sunlight from the windows. Dr. Ashman opened his case. Svartalf poured out, restored to health, big, black, and arrogant as ever. He stretched cramped muscles. “Mee‑owr‑r‑r,” he scolded us. The pastor offered the cat a soothing hand. I didn’t have time to warn him. Luckily, Ashman was in the habit of carrying Band‑Aids. Svartalf sat down by Ginny and washed himself.
“How’d you manage it?” the admiral asked with professional interest.
Ginny shrugged. “Simple. Barney’d been in contact with Dr. Ashman, you know, and arranged a time when he’d ‘ve cancelled his appointments. He went to the animal hospital and fetched Svartalf, who can lie quiet in a box if he must. We’d already verified there was no tail on the doctor.” Svartalf switched his in a smug fashion. “Meanwhile I’d gone downtown. They’re having a sale at Penman’s. Easiest crowd in the world to disappear into, and who’ll notice a bit of sorcery there? Having changed my looks, I rendezvoused with Dr. Ashman and altered him.” Svartalf threw the man a speculative look. “We proceeded here. Barney knew exactly when we’d arrive, and had the field low enough that it didn’t whiff our disguises.”