thing," the cabbie said.

We crisscrossed back and forth above the streets, and I squinted at pedestrians and watched the thin traffic pattern. Fifteen minutes later we were back by the apartment building.

"Circle low around the building," I said.

"Oh, no! Want me to lose my license? I can't go out of the air lanes."

"You can this time," I said. "Police."

He looked at my credentials, and grunted. "Why didn't you say so?"

There was a narrow strip of lawn behind the building, with a couple of trees, and then a dimly-lit alley. The cabbie handed me a pair of binoculars, and I strained my eyes on the sprawling shadows. I couldn't see anything suspicious, but I decided it might be worth a trip on foot.

The third time around I glanced at Stella's lighted windows—the rear ones—and gasped. A dark shadow clung to the side of the building, edging slowly along the ledge towards her window. Gregory.

"See that?" I said to the cabbie.

As we watched, he got the window open, and disappeared into the apartment.

I tried to radio the men on the stakeout, and couldn't rouse them. I called headquarters. Both Walker and Captain Marks were out. They would be back in a few minutes. But I didn't have minutes left.

"Skip it," I said. I snapped out a description of the situation, and cut off.

"Can you get close enough to get me through that window?" I asked the cabbie.

"I can try," he said. "But watch your step, fellow. It's a long drop."

He hovered close, and I grabbed the edge of the window and pulled myself through. Gregory faced me across the living room, a bewildered, panicky look on his huge, child-like face. I was thinking, how stupid can we get? From the way he came into Cronus's picture we should have known he didn't come through the door. Stella had come through the door, and we just assumed he was already in the room. But who would have thought Gregory could make like a human fly?

"All right, Gregory," I said. "You're under arrest."

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