Amaryllis

surrounding the professor's death. The more I think about it, the more questions arise. I knew the police had closed the case. I knew that no one else cared if there had been foul play. I didn't know what to do until you showed up at the office a few days ago. It was as if I had been given a sign.'

'You knew that I would care if there was something suspicious about his death, didn't you?'

'You were the only other person besides myself who could be counted on to pursue the matter. I'm just an aging secretary. I didn't have the vaguest idea of how to approach the situation. But you are so clever. Miss Lark. Professor Landreth often talked about how intelligent you are. How determined and persistent. I thought that if anyone could get answers, it would be you.'

'So you sent me to Vivien.'

'Yes.' Irene sighed. 'I was too much of a coward to go see her myself. I wouldn't have known how to approach a woman of that sort. But I did think she might know something. Professor Landreth's acquaintance with her was obviously of a very intimate nature, after all. There's no telling what secrets he shared with her.'

'Did you know that on the day he died. Professor Landreth had made an appointment to see Gifford Osterley?'

'Osterley? Irene's thin lips parted in brief astonishment. 'Highly unlikely. Professor Landreth and Gifford Osterley were not on good terms.'

'Did you check the last entries in the professor's calendar when you packed up his desk?'

'No. To tell you the truth, I was crying so hard that day, I could hardly see what I was doing. I couldn't bear to look at his calendar. All those perfectly normal, routine appointments that he would never again keep. It was too much.'

'Can you think of any reason why Professor Landreth would have made an appointment with Gifford?'

'No.' Irene's face crumpled. 'But, then, I can't think of any reason why he would patronize a cheap syn-sex stripper, either.' She blew her nose and then frowned at Amaryllis. 'How did you discover that the professor had an appointment with Gifford Osterley?'

'I've got a confession to make.' Amaryllis flushed and looked down at the table. She must not drag Lucas's name into this. 'I went into your office the night before the boxes were to be taken away. I found the carton that had Landreth's desk calendar in it. I looked at the last entries. I know it wasn't right, but I couldn't think of anything else to do.'

An odd silence fell on the table. When Amaryllis looked up, she saw that Irene was gazing at her with a strange expression on her face.

'Oh dear,' Irene said.

'What is it? Have I shocked you? I didn't take anything. Honest.'

'You swear it?'

Amaryllis lifted her chin. 'On my honor as a Lark.'

'I believe you. But it only makes things more confusing.'

'What do you mean?'

'I have something to confess, too,' Irene said slowly. 'When I discovered that the files were to be removed, I got very uneasy. I'm a limited-spectrum prism, you know. Not much power, but a bit of intuition. Do you recall how Professor Landreth always kept a special file for his current projects?'

'I remember. He called it his hot file. What about it?'

'Just before the movers showed up to take away the boxes, I did something very impulsive. I searched the cartons for that file.'

'Did you find it?'

'No.' Irene's gaze was stark. 'The file was missing from its box. Someone else had already taken it.'

'A pleasure to meet you, Lucas.' Gifford Osterley beamed with unctuous enthusiasm as he took the chair in front of Lucas's desk. 'I've admired you for years. Your company's performance is a tribute to your intelligence, skill, and determination. A model for corporate success.'

Lucas regarded Gifford with perverse curiosity. This was the man Amaryllis had once considered as a possible candidate for marriage, yet she had never made Osterley her lover. Picky, picky, picky.

'Why did you ask to see me?' Lucas asked.

Gifford cleared his throat with an important air. He opened a black leather briefcase that contrasted nicely with his silver gray suit. 'It has recently come to my attention that you occasionally have the need for the services of a full- spectrum prism. My firm. Unique Prisms, specializes in providing highly trained prisms to talents in positions such as yours.'

'I use another firm.'

'Yes, I know. Psynergy, Inc. But I can assure you, sir, that Unique Prisms can offer all of the services Psynergy, Inc. offers and much more.'

'What more is there to offer?'

'Discretion, Mr. Trent.' Gifford gave him a knowing look. 'Absolute discretion.'

'Psynergy, Inc. offers discretion and confidentiality.'

'Ah, but their services cannot begin to compare with ours. For example, we do not even require a talent certification from our clients. No need to be tested first in order to use our services. Our prisms can all handle class-nine and even class-ten talents, so there is no danger of a mismatch.'

'Psynergy, Inc. has provided me with a full-spectrum prism.'

'That would be Amaryllis Lark.' Gifford winked. 'For- give me, Mr. Trent, but I know Miss Lark very well. And while I would be the first to admit that she is a powerful, well-trained prism, I must point out that she is inclined to be a bit, shall we say, conventional.'

'Your prisms aren't so conventional?'

'Mine are creative rather than conventional.' Gifford chuckled. 'I can assure you that none of my prisms are burdened with Miss Lark's somewhat limited concept of what constitutes proper, ethical focusing. My people under- stand that the client is always right.'

'I see.'

'We respect our clients' right to determine how, when, and where to use their talents. We do not attempt to impose someone else's standards on what is essentially a private decision. Do I make myself clear, Lucas?'

'Very clear. Now you can leave. I have a lot of untalented work to do today.'

A small furrow appeared in Gifford's forehead. 'Perhaps you don't understand just what I'm offering. Surely you want the freedom to use your own personal talent in any way you see fit without worrying about the restrictions of some prissy little ex-academic who thinks she has the right to determine ethical guidelines for you.'

'I'll let you in on a little secret, Osterley. Lately I've begun to discover that virtue has its own rewards.'

'Lucas, it's Amaryllis.'

Lucas leaned back in his chair and grinned into the phone. 'Strangely enough, I recognized your voice.'

'Oh. Well, I've got some interesting news. Irene Dunley also went through those boxes containing Professor Landreth's things.'

Lucas stopped grinning. 'Landreth's secretary searched them?'

'Right. She also admitted that she's the one who sent me to Vivien.'

'Five hells.'

'Apparently she's been suspicious of the way Landreth died ever since the accident happened. But she didn't know what to do. Anyhow, when I showed up at the department and started asking questions about a case of unethical focusing, she got the idea of involving me in the questions surrounding the professor's death.'

'Amaryllis, there aren't any questions.'

'Then she decided to search those boxes in her office.'

'Why?' Lucas demanded.

'She was looking for Landreth's special hot file.'

'Hot file?'

'Yes. It was his habit to keep one, and she distinctly recalls packing it after he died. But get this. The file was missing, Lucas.'

He did not like the excitement he heard in her voice. 'Amaryllis--'

'Don't you think that the missing file is a strong indication that Professor Landreth might have been murdered