Part 2 (1/2)

Don't tell me that wasn't telepathic jazz.”

She tossed her short hair-do around. ”My side-men were TP's,” she conceded. ”Why do you think I was playing box chords? They knew what I was playing--I didn't know what they'd play.”

Well, some of it was adding up. Still, I had to be sure. ”I see. Tell me, Mary, where were your parents on the 19th of April in '75?”

She sat up straight beside Keys on the bench, and her fair face flushed pinkly. ”Drop dead!” she told me.

I stood up. ”See you in jail,” I said, and started for the door.

Elmer had played tackle for Ol' Miss--he sure stopped me in my tracks.

”I reckon we ain't through with you yet, Yankee,” he grinned. He hurt me with his hands, big as country hams. My stiffened fingers jabbed his T-s.h.i.+rt where it covered his solar plexus, and he dropped back, gasping.

”You could learn a little about fighting, too, Psi,” I growled. ”And you're through with me if that bottle blonde won't answer my questions.”

”Hey!” Keys protested. ”Come on, relax. Everybody!” he snapped, as Elmer got his breath back and came in for another tackle. I signaled for a fair catch, and he eased up.

I peered over my shoulder at the girl at the piano. ”Well?” I asked her. ”Where _were_ your parents on the 19th of April in '75?”

Her eyes sought out Keys'. He nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor.

”About fifty miles from Logan, Iowa,” she said.

”And you don't have the Stigma?” I scoffed.

”Not everybody inside the Logan Ring was affected,” she reminded me.

”Which is my tough luck. But I _am_ being crucified because Mother and Dad _were_ in the Ring the day the N-bomb went off, whether I have the Stigma or not.”

I came back to stand in front of her. ”I'm an attorney,” I said. ”I have an idea what can happen to you if the Courts get hold of you.

Right now they can't find you--which must mean you've been hiding.”

She confirmed that with a nod, biting her red, red lips. ”They _are_ after you, and a Federal rap is just the start,” I said. ”You have only one chance, Mary, and I'm glad you claimed it. The only way you can keep them from putting you over a barrel is to prove you don't have the Stigma. I think I know a way to do it. Are you ready to let me help you?”

”Not _that_ fast,” she said, looking worried. ”Oh, I trust Keys'

judgment about you. Yes, I _do_,” she said earnestly, turning to Crescas. ”Yes, I _know_ he got you off, Keys. But it doesn't sound right. Why should he take a chance helping a Psi--even if I really _don't_ have the Stigma? What's his angle?”

”Fair enough,” Keys said. ”How about it, Maragon?”

”I knew it was a b.u.m rap they were trying to pin on Mary as soon as I heard about it,” I explained. ”This business about Mary having HC.

There just isn't any such Psi power as hallucination, and every one of you knows it--it's an old wives' tale. I wouldn't touch this little lady with a ten-foot pole if I really thought she had the Stigma. I have a living to make around this town--and you can't handle Stigma business and get any decent trade, too.”

I looked back at Mary. ”How _did_ you work your swindle at the bank?”

I asked quietly.

She sighed. ”Sleight of hand,” she said. ”A d.a.m.ned fool stunt. I figured to put the money back in a day or so. If somebody else hadn't been working the same racket, they'd never have caught me. But they had set a trap--”

”I _thought_ it was some light-finger stuff,” I grinned. ”Well, it will take me a while to set up a real test of your Psi Powers. Where can I reach you--or are you spending the night here?”