* * * * *
By two o'clock that afternoon the four remaining candidates had come andgone. And Harry Payne sat at his desk in the immediate aftermathquestioning his sanity. All seven men wore toupees! It was incrediblebut true. And now the matter was one of deep and abiding concern to him.There was nothing funny about it. There was a touch of the macabre in itthat rendered his flesh cold and weak.
He lit a cigarette and tried to pull his thoughts together. Seven menapplying for the same job; seven men with one thing in common; seven menas bald as Doctor Cyclops. Harry had to abandon the notion that sheercoincidence brought these men together. That was too fantastic. Theywere brought together by design.
Their backgrounds varied in that they had all worked and come fromdifferent parts of the country. But those facts were only on paper. Itwas an odds-on bet they all knew each other. There was even somethingabout the order in which they arrived at the office that indicated apattern or an over-all plan. Numbers three, five and six had worn falsemustaches.
If it was true the seven men were well acquainted then Paula Ralstoncould undoubtedly give him some answers. Harry had another dinnerengagement with her at five o'clock. But this date, he told himself,would be different. _He_ was going to be all business until he learnedexactly what she was involved in.
He picked up the phone, got an outside line and dialed. Frank Barnes wasa private detective. A good one. Harry was sure he could rely on him fora small favor.
A subdued, resonant voice answered on the other end.
"Frank, Harry Payne here."
"Harry! Where you been hiding?"
"I need a favor."
"Only time you ever call me, you ingrate."
"There's a dame called Paula Ralston. Runs a business called RalstonPersonnel Consultants. How soon can you get anything on her?"
"How soon do you need it?"
"Today, if possible. You can call me at home. Any hour."
After promising Frank to meet him for lunch one day Harry sank into aneasy chair and tried to shake the unnerving effect the seven men had hadon him.
Maybe he shouldn't have called Frank. This might be something he shouldhave informed the army about. No. They'd want to know what business hehad seeing the seven men in the first place. He didn't have much of ananswer for that one.
* * * * *
Driving along Woodward Street toward Fourth Avenue, Harry was beset withone nagging question. Why had Paula Ralston never brought any of herclients to see him before? He was the dispenser of over a hundred goodjobs that offered high salaries. The answer was just as persistent asthe question. _Lab Technician was the only security job he handled._ Shewas determined that one of her men get that job at any cost.
It wasn't a very pleasant thought. Harry didn't want to believe it. Hedidn't want to believe that Paula Ralston was going to mean trouble forhim. And yet he knew that's exactly what she meant.
* * * * *
She was waiting for him at Maria's. She kissed him as he slipped intothe booth beside her. Through four drinks and a six-course dinner hewatched her smile. That smile could melt down the door on a bank vault.He noticed how she laughed at all of his wisecracks. When it was herturn to talk she talked about him. She offered a toast to their closerfriendship, with special emphasis on the word "closer."
But she did not mention the seven men. That was the smart approach,Harry ventured. She'd save that until she got home and slipped intosomething more comfortable.
* * * * *
He stood alone in Paula's living room nursing a scotch on the rocks. Thenight before he had been too concerned about his progress with thislatter-day Aphrodite to give a damn about the place she lived in. Heglanced around the room. Every inch reeked of success. The furniture wassleek, modern, exquisitely contoured ... like its owner. There wasn'tmuch question about it, Paula Ralston made a lot more dough than he did.But how? That was the question.
She came out of the bedroom and mixed herself a drink. She was a livingdream in a black lace negligee. Transparent. It figured. A lot of thingswere beginning to figure.
"Shall I tell you a secret?" she asked.
"I didn't think you had any left." He couldn't take his eyes from thenegligee.
"I think Mr. Chase and Mr. Boles are the best of the seven. I think theycome closest to what you're looking for." She lifted her glass andclinked it against his.
Harry smiled. He wasn't looking at her anymore. It was more of aneducation to look through her. She was good. Damn good. She could lullyou into believing the Grand Canyon was brimming over with silverdollars, all yours for the taking. It was next to impossible to doubtthe sincerity in her face.
"I liked all seven of them," he said. "But since you know them betterthan I do I'll take your recommendation that Chase and Boles are thebest."
She moved closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her body.
"We're making some progress, Harry. We've narrowed the field down to twocandidates."
Harry kept her maneuvering. "Paula, I'm still faced with the problem offinding a way around the regulations. I can't hire either one of themuntil I solve that."
Nothing stopped this girl. Nothing even slowed her down. She moved stillcloser to him. "There's a way around anything if a man has the rightincentive to look for it."
He knew what the right incentive was. He didn't have to go looking forthat. He laid his drink down, put his arms around her and kissed her.They walked to the sofa. Paula stayed close to him, the ever thoughtful,loving female companion. She rubbed his back and neck and sprinkled himwith soft moist kisses. She never mentioned her clients again. And Harrypromised to hire one of them the following day.
* * * * *
He was anxious to get back to his apartment to find out if Frank Barneshad called. As he drove back along Woodward Street he couldn't put Paulaout of his mind. He already had her character pegged. But what was sheup to? What was her goal? She wasn't doing all this for a lousycommission. The stakes were bigger than that.
In a way it was too bad she was going to have to settle for less thanshe bargained for. If her seven clients hadn't been so phoney she mighthave gotten away with it. But why was it necessary for them to bephoney? Why should a girl as shrewd as Paula send seven men in disguiseto see ...
Disguise! Somehow that word threw a different light on the matter. Themen had all been disguised in places where hair should grow. They were_not_ bald. There was something abnormal about them. And Harry wasninety percent certain what it was. The answer was incredible. There wasstill a ten-percent margin for error. For Miss Paula Ralston's sake hehoped he was wrong.
* * * * *
Frank Barnes' message was waiting for him at the switchboard in thelobby. The word "urgent" was written on it.
He raced upstairs and picked up the phone. Frank answered on the firstring. He sounded like a man with a gun at his back.
"Harry, what the hell kind of a mess have you gotten yourself into?"
"Why? Something go wrong?"
"You bet your sweet life. An hour after you called me to check on thatRalston dame a guy came into the office and told me to lay off."
Harry was silent. And scared. His answer looked better all the time.
"What did the guy look like?"
"He looked important, Harry. And he meant business. He had a big bulgein his pocket and he made it very clear I'd be up to my funny bone inhot lead if I relayed any information about this girl to you."
"Frank, was the guy wearing a toupee?"
"A what?"
"A toupee, a hair piece!"
"How the hell should I know. I wasn't interested in his coiffure. He waswearing a black overcoat, he kept his hand on that bulge and he didn'tcare much for smiling. Harry, you in trouble with this dame?"
"What did you find out about her, Frank?"
"Between th
e time you called and the time the guy strolled into theoffice I found out she's only had this Personnel Consultant racket forabout three months."
"You didn't learn anything else?"
"After I got warned I decided to wait'll I talked with you."
Harry was silent again. His mind was working.
"Frank, what causes baldness?"
"Baldness! Geez, Harry, you're in a fat mess of trouble and you'reworrying about losing your hair?"
"It's important, Frank. I must find out what causes total loss of _all_hair."
The detective grunted. "Well, let's see, there are three or fourdiseases I know of. Some people claim it's hereditary. Sometimes adeficiency in the genes ..."
"Okay,
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