Chapter 4

           "Youseemillatease,Mr.Kovacs.Areyou?"

           Ilookedovermyshoulderatthemaidwhohadshownmein,thenbackatMiriamBancroft.Theirbodieswereaboutthesameage.

           "No,"Isaid,morecoarselythanI’dintended.

           Shebrieflycurvedhermouthdownatthecornersandwentbacktorollingupthemapshe’dbeenstudyingwhenIarrived.Behindmethemaidpulledthechartroomdoorclosedwithaheavyclick.Bancrofthadn’tseenfittoaccompanymeintothepresenceofhiswife.Perhapsoneencounteradaywasasmuchastheyallowedthemselves.Instead,themaidhadappearedasifbymagicaswecamedownfromthebalconyintheseawardlounge.Bancroftpaidheraboutasmuchattentionashehadlasttime.

           WhenIleft,hewasstandingbythemirrorwooddesk,staringattheblastmarkonthewall.

           Mrs.Bancroftdeftlytightenedtherollonthemapinherhandsandbegantoslideitintoalongprotectivetube.

           "Well,"shesaid,withoutlookingup."Askmeyourquestions,then."

           "Wherewereyouwhenithappened?"

           "Iwasinbed."Shelookedupatmethistime."Pleasedon’taskmetocorroboratethat;Iwasalone."

           Thechartroomwaslongandairyunderanarchedroofthatsomeonehadtiledwithilluminum.Themaprackswerewaisthigh,eachtoppedwithaglassed-indisplayandsetoutinrowslikeexhibitcasesinamuseum.