"I know nothing about woman."
Trying to inject a gay note into her voice, she said, "We eat, we sleep,
we--we're very functional, really."
He rubbed a finger down her cheek. He pressed the flesh on her neck and
watched the muscle spring back as he withdrew his finger.
"Do that to me," he said.
Mystified, Rhoda pressed her finger against his neck until she could
feel a pulse in his throat. She withdrew the finger. "Like that?"
"Did it leave a mark?"
"No. Is there something wrong? Do you have a sore throat?"
"My throat is not sore."
Rhoda's frustration was a pitiful thing. How could she get to him? How
could she break through his shyness?
"I think you're afraid of me," she said lightly.
He did not answer. He took a backward step and regarded her for a moment
with a frown. Then he began to unbutton her blouse.
Rhoda wanted to object. An instinctive protest caused her to draw back.
His only reaction to this was to step forward and continue to unbutton
her blouse. She wanted to resist but the fear of driving him away held
her mute; that and something in his eyes that told of excitement, an
unformed phantom of delight that had never materialized but still held
sway over her through promise.
He stripped the blouse off. She wore no brassiere underneath, and he
regarded her breasts somberly. He pressed a nipple with the tip of one
finger and watched it spring back into place.
"Please. I--"
He ignored her. He pressed the nipple again and then found the zipper on
the side of her slacks. He pulled it down and pushed the slacks down
over her hips. She lifted each foot obediently.
He was on his knees now, running his fingers gently down her thighs.
Rhoda trembled at the touch. Then she realized it was not love-making on
his part--not in any sense. He was preoccupied with the fine hair on her
skin. He studied it closely.
"I should have shaved my legs," Rhoda said uncertainly. He raised his
head, the cold eyes trained into hers. "This hair grows, too?"
Rhoda caught her lower lip between her teeth. Tears were close to the
surface.
_This is crazy. This is utterly insane. I'm mad or he's mad. I don't
know. I just don't know ..._
The last garment was removed and she was naked there in the middle of
the living room. He studied her body again, that passionless,
preoccupied frown on his face. He drew her down onto the floor and, for
a moment, the room spun around Rhoda, her emotional entrapment now the
focal point, the eye of the storm that raged in her being. He went on
with his minute inspection of her person.
_No--no. Please don't. Please don't treat me like this. I'm a woman.
Don't be contemptuous of me. Oh, no--please. Don't degrade and humiliate
me like this._
There was sudden pain. Rhoda's body wrenched and heaved upward. With a
sob, she sank back to the floor.
_I must fight. I must not allow this. I must not let him do these cruel,
degrading things to me. I must fight but I am afraid to. I am afraid
he'll go away and never come back--and if he did that, there would be
nothing left for me._
John Dennis seemed to become aware for the first time that certain
manipulations caused reaction--the jerking of Rhoda's body and her
involuntary cry of pain. He repeated the manipulation with his eyes on
her face.
_I cannot allow this. I must fight. I must resist. Oh, Rhoda Kane, what
has happened to you? Frank, please help, help me. Frank--_
But something seemed to flow out of John Dennis and into her mind and
soul and spirit; something that made the flesh and what was done to the
flesh unimportant.
The touch of John Dennis' hand brought fright as it foretold further
pain and degradation. Rhoda sobbed inwardly and braced herself to
withstand whatever was to come.
_Mad!--mad!--mad!_
But it meant nothing.
* * * * *
The building was not for tourists. It wasn't like the Pentagon or the
White House or any of the other historical or glamour symbols in
Washington, D.C. It was on a side street, and while no one associated it
with governmental activity, it was of a size and importance that
justified a uniformed attendant in the lobby.
He was a hard-bitten old Irishman named Callahan, and nobody got past
him without justification. Also, he was a man of robust hates and great
loyalties; a man whom Brent Taber was honored to call friend.
He was also a man Brent Taber was waiting to hear from.
The call came late in the afternoon of the day following Charles
Blackwell's search for his would-be brother. Taber picked up the phone.
"It's me--Callahan. He's here, Mr. Taber."
"Thanks. I'll be right over."
"And be hurrying right along if you want to get here in time. He's not
one to be restrained indefinitely."
"Tell him the elevator's busted."
Brent Taber slammed the phone down and left. He used an elevator this
time and went across town in a cab. Even then, he was almost too late.
As he arrived at his destination, Senator Crane was protesting loudly.
"It's just plain stupidity. Elevators don't quit running for no reason.
Find a burnt-out fuse. Do something! And do it quick or I'll phone
somebody who will!"
"Well, I'll be blessed," Callahan said, completely crest-fallen. "It
was the switch, Senator. The blessed switch was off."
"Well, turn it on and get me up to ten."
"Good afternoon, Senator."
Crane whirled. "Brent Taber!" He threw a quick scowl at Callahan and was
on the verge of accusing the Irishman of high treason, but he said, "All
right. I'm glad you're here, Taber. We might as well get this thing
into the open. Are you going to take me to room ten twenty-six or do I
have to take steps to force your co-operation?"
Taber stared morosely at Crane's nose. "Why, Senator, where did you get
the idea my department wouldn't help a member of Congress to the
utmost?"
"None of your sarcasm. Let's go upstairs."
"All right, Callahan. Let's go upstairs."
They got off on ten and walked down the corridor. "Ten twenty-eight, you
said?"
"You know damned well what I said."
Taber opened the door. He stood aside. Crane walked in and stopped dead.
He again whirled on Crane.
"It's empty."
"That's right. I could have told you downstairs but you wouldn't have
believed me. What were you looking for? New quarters?"
"Taber, I'll break you for this! If you think you can thwart the will of
the United States Senate--"
"You've been doing a pretty good job of breaking already."
"I haven't even begun!"
"That still doesn't tell me what you thought you'd find."
"Quit being cute. This time yesterday there were cadavers in here. This
was a laboratory!"
Brent looked wearily at his watch. "You're wrong, Senator. This place
was vacated exactly an hour and fifteen minutes after your stooge used
his court order to locate the cadavers."
"Then you admit you defied a court order--"
"Oh, come off of it. The court order said nothing about leaving things
as they were. But that's not important. The important thing is that you
give me some understanding and sympathy."
This obviously astounded Crane. "From you? That from the cocky,
self-sufficient Brent Taber? That's a little different tune from the one
you sang in your office, not too long ago."
"All right. I'll concede that. Let's say you've got me licked. I'll
admit I should have reacted a little less arrogantly. My nerves were
shot. I'd been up late too often. Now I'm ready to be reasonable."
Crane was scowling. "This isn't like you, Taber--not like you at all.
I'm suspicious. Why are you suddenly so agreeable?"
"Because I believe the nation--the world--is in great danger. I think we
should all realize that danger and work together."
"Then why have you been fighting me?"
"Because I honestly felt it was the best thing to do. I've changed my
mind. I'm willing to tell you the whole story."
"I've heard the whole story. I--"
"Then it was you who had my office taped."
"Exactly. I'm not ashamed of it. When I'm fighting for my constituents I
use every weapon at my command."
Brent Taber regarded Crane narrowly. "I underestimated your abilities,
Senator. That was fast work. Twenty minutes after I refused you
permission to attend that meeting, you had your man briefed and in
action. It was the waiter who brought in the coffee, wasn't it?"
Before Crane could answer, Taber gestured and said, "Never mind. That's
not important. You've heard the tape, so tell me--what do you want from
me? How can I earn your co-operation?"
"Quite simply, Taber. By recognizing my authority as a United States
Senator. By keeping me briefed on your progress against this terrible
thing that menaces our people. By accepting my active co-operation in
destroying it."
"What exactly do you mean by _active_?"
"Just what the word implies. Have the men on the senatorial committee
you briefed been at all active in helping you?"
"Frankly, no."
"Then what right have they to expect any rewards--shall we say?--for
their efforts?"
"You may have a point."
"I believe in rewards where rewards are due."
"And you want--?"
"In plain terms, the right to association in the public mind with the
effort to protect the nation."
"You want favorable publicity if and when this matter makes headlines?"
"Is that too much to ask?"
Brent Taber suddenly seemed lost and, in truth, he was wondering why in
hell he'd approached Crane in this way. He felt ashamed for even
considering the possibility of bending to the will of a windbag like
Crane. _Good Lord_, he thought, _I must be tired. I was on the point of
playing the jellyfish._