"The only thing we had to worry about," Malone said, pouring some more
champagne into the hollow-stemmed glasses, "was whether the theory would
actually prove out in practice. From all we knew, it seemed logical that
I could concentrate on the room with the boys in it, and by that
concentration prevent them from teleporting out--but there's a lot we
don't know, too. And it didn't damage the kids any."
Dorothea relaxed in her chair and looked around at the hotel room walls
with contentment. "Mike seemed pretty normal--except that he had that
awful _trapped_ feeling."
Malone handed her one of the filled glasses with an air. He was
beginning slowly to feel less like the nervous, uncertain Kenneth J.
Malone and more and more like good old Sir Kenneth Malone. "I can see
why he felt trapped," he said. "If a guy's been unhampered by four walls
all the time, even for only a year or so, he's certainly going to feel
penned in when he's stopped from going through them. Especially when
what stops him is just what he has--only more of the same. It might be a
little ego-crushing, and just a trifle claustrophobic."
"The main thing is," Dorothea said, "that everybody's so happy.
Commissioner Fernack, even--with Mr. Burris promising to give him a
medal."
"And Lynch," Malone said reflectively. "He'll get a promotion out of
this for sure. And good old Kettleman."
"Kettleman," Dorothea said. "Oh, sure. He's some kind of social worker,
isn't he? Only we never knew what kind."
"And now he's getting a scroll from the FBI," Malone said. "A citation
for coming up with the essential clue in this case. Even though he
didn't know it _was_ the essential clue. You know," he added
reflectively, "one thing puzzles me about that man."
"Yes?"
"Well," Malone said, "he worked in your neighborhood. You knew him."
"Of course I did," Dorothea said. "We all knew Kettleman."
"He said he had a lot of success as a social worker," Malone said. "Now,
I've met him. And talked with him. And I just can't picture--"
"Oh," Dorothea said. "We keep him around--kept him around, I mean--as a
sort of joke. A pet, or a mascot. Of course, he never did catch on. I
don't suppose he has yet."