contrast with his iron-gray hair. His teeth wereclenched so firmly on the bit of a calabash pipe with a meerschaumbowl that Malone wondered if he could ever get loose. Malone shut thedoor behind him, and Sir Lewis rose and extended a hand.
Malone went to the desk and reached across to take the hand. It wasfirm and dry. "I'm Kenneth Malone," Malone said.
"Ah, yes," Sir Lewis said. "Pleased to meet you; always happy, ofcourse, to do whatever I can for your FBI. Not only a duty, so tospeak, but a pleasure. Sit down. Please do sit down."
Malone found a chair at the side of the desk, and sank into it. It wassoft and comfortable. It provided such a contrast to O'Connor'sfurnishings that Malone began to wish it was Sir Lewis who wasemployed at Yucca Flats. Then he could tell Sir Lewis everything aboutthe case.
Now, of course, he could only hedge and try to make do without statingvery many facts. "Sir Lewis," he said, "I trust you'll keep thisconversation confidential."
"Naturally," Sir Lewis said. He removed the pipe, stared at it, andreplaced it.
"I can't give you the full details," Malone went on, "but the FBI ispresently engaged in an investigation which requires the specializedknowledge your organization seems to have."
"FBI?" Sir Lewis said. "Specialized investigation?" He seemed pleased,but a trifle puzzled. "Dear boy, anything we have is at your disposal,of course. But I quite fail to see how you can consider us--"
"It's rather an unusual problem," Malone said, feeling that that wasthe understatement of the year. "But I understand that your records goback nearly a century."
"Quite true," Sir Lewis murmured.
"During that time," Malone said, "the Society investigated a greatmany supposedly supernatural or supernormal incidents."
"Many of them," Sir Lewis said, "were discovered to be fraudulent, I'mafraid. The great majority, in fact."
"That's what I'd assume," Malone said. He fished in his pockets, founda cigarette and lit it. Sir Lewis went on chewing at his unlit pipe."What we're interested in," Malone said, "is some description of thevarious methods by which these frauds were perpetrated."
"Ah," Sir Lewis said. "The tricks of the trade, so to speak?"
"Exactly," Malone said.
"Well, then," Sir Lewis said. "The luminous gauze, for instance, thatpasses for ectoplasm; the various methods of table-lifting; control ofthe ouija board--things like that?"
"Not quite that elementary," Malone said. He puffed on the cigarette,wishing it was a cigar. "We're pretty much up to that kind of thing.But had it ever occurred to you that many of the methods used by phonymind-reading acts, for instance, might be used as communicationmethods by spies?"
"Why, I believe some have been," Sir Lewis said. "Though I don't knowmuch about that, of course; there was a case during the First WorldWar--"
"Exactly," Malone said. He took a deep breath. "It's things like thatwe're interested in," he said, and spent the next twenty minutesslowly approaching his subject. Sir Lewis, apparently fascinated, wasperfectly willing to unbend in any direction, and jotted down notes onsome of Malone's more interesting cases, murmuring: "Most unusual,most unusual," as he wrote.
The various types of phenomena that the Society had investigated cameinto the discussion, and Malone heard quite a lot about the Beyond,the Great Summerland, Spirit Mediums and the hypothetical existence offairies, goblins and elves.
"But, Sir Lewis--" he said.
"I make no claims personally," Sir Lewis said. "But I understand thatthere is a large and somewhat vocal group which does make rathersolid-sounding claims in that direction. They say that they have seenfairies, talked with goblins, danced with the elves."
"They must be very unusual people," Malone said, understating heavily.
"Oh," Sir Lewis said, "without a that it goes throughAccounting."
Talk like this passed away nearly a half hour, until Malone finallyfelt that it was the right time to introduce some of his realquestions. "Tell me, Sir Lewis," he said, "have you had many instancesof a single man, or a small group of men, controlling the actions of amuch larger group? And doing it in such a way that the larger groupdoesn't even know it is being manipulated?"
"Of course I have," Sir Lewis said. "And so have you. They call itadvertising."
Malone flicked his cigarette into an ashtray. "I didn't mean exactlythat," he said. "Suppose they're doing it in such a way that thelarger group doesn't even suspect that manipulation is going on?"
Sir Lewis removed his pipe and frowned at it. "I may be able to giveyou a little information," he said slowly, "but not much."
"Ah?" Malone said, trying to sound only mildly interested.
"Outside of mob psychology," Sir Lewis said, "and all that sort ofthing, I really haven't seen any record of a case of such a thinghappening. And I can't quite imagine anyone faking it."
"But you have got some information?" Malone said.
"Certainly," Sir Lewis said. "There is always spirit control."
"Spirit control?" Malone blinked.
"Demonic intervention," Sir Lewis said. "'My name is Legion,' youknow."
Sir Lewis Legion, Malone thought confusedly, was a rather unusualname. He took a breath and caught hold of his revolving mind. "Howwould you go about that?" he said, a little hopelessly.
"I haven't the foggiest," Sir Lewis admitted cheerfully. "But I willhave it looked up for you." He made a note. "Anything else?"
Malone tried to think. "Yes," he said at last. "Can you give me acondensed report on what is known--and I mean _known_--on telepathyand teleportation?"
"What you want," Sir Lewis said, "are those cases proven genuine, notthe ones in which we have established fraud, or those still in doubt."
"Exactly," Malone said. If he got no other use out of the data, itwould provide a measuring-stick for the Society. The general publicdidn't know that the government was actually using psionic powers, andthe Society's theories, checked against actual fact, would provide arough index of reliability to use on the Society's other data.
But spirits, somehow, didn't seem very likely. Malone sighed and stoodup.
"I'll have copies made of all the relevant material," Sir Lewis said,"from our library and research files. Where do you want the materialsent? I do want to warn you of its bulk; there may be quite a lot ofit."
"FBI Headquarters, on Sixty-ninth Street," Malone said. "And send astatement of expenses along with it. As long as the bill's withinreason, don't worry about itemizing; I'll see that it goes throughAccounting."
Sir Lewis nodded. "Fine," he said. "And, if you should have anydifficulties with the material, please let me know. I'll always beglad to help."
"Thanks for your co-operation," Malone said. He went to the door, andwalked on out.
He blundered back into the same big room again, on his way through thecorridors. The bulbous-eyed woman, who seemed to have inherited a fullset of thirty-two teeth from each of her parents, gave him a friendlyif somewhat crowded smile, but Malone pressed on without a word. Aftera while, he found the reception room again.
* * * * *
The girl behind the desk looked up. "How did he react?" she said.
Malone blinked. "React?" he said.
"When you sneezed at him," she said. "Because I've been thinking itover, and I've got a new theory. You're doing a survey on how peopleact when encountering sneezes. Like Kinsey."
This girl--Lou something, Malone thought, and with difficultyrefrained from adding "Gehrig"--had an unusual effect, he decided. Hewondered if there were anyone in the world she couldn't reduce toparalyzed silence.
"Of course," she went on, "Kinsey was dealing with sex, and youaren't. At least, you aren't during business hours." She smiledpolitely at Malone.
"No," he said helplessly, "I'm not."
"It is sneezing, then," she said. "Will I be in the book when it'spublished?"
"Book?" Malone said, feeling more and more like a rather low-grademoron.
"The book on sneezing, whe
n you get it published," she said. "I cansee it now--the Case of Miss X, a Receptionist."
"There isn't going to be any book," Malone said.
She shook her head. "That's a shame," she said. "I've