had been aware of just how much Grady had milked from thegroup chiefly through quiet private contributions and donations duringthe two years he was running the Institute. The sum came to betterthan two hundred thousand dollars. Grady naturally had wasted none ofthis in "research" and he was not a spendthrift in other ways.Cavender was, therefore, happy to say that around two thirds of thismoney was known to be still intact in various bank accounts, and thatit would be restored eventually to the generous but misled donors.
Dr. Al's ex-students were beginning to look both chastened and verymuch relieved. Cavender briefly covered a few more points to eliminateremaining doubts. He touched on Grady's early record as a confidenceman and blackmailer, mentioned the two terms he had spent in prisonand the fact that for the last eighteen years he had confined himselfto operations like the Institute of Insight where risks were less. Theprofits, if anything, had been higher because Grady had learned thatit paid off, in the long run, to deal exclusively with wealthycitizens and he was endowed with the kind of personality needed toovercome the caution natural to that class. As for the unusualexperiences about which some of them might be now thinking, these,Cavender concluded, should be considered in the light of the fact thatGrady had made his living at one time as a stage magician andhypnotist, working effectively both with and without trainedaccomplices.
The lecture had gone over very well, as he'd known it would. Theex-students left for their homes, a subdued and shaken group, gratefulfor having been rescued from an evil man's toils. Even Mrs. Folsom,who had announced at one point that she believed she had a heartattack coming on, recovered sufficiently to thank Cavender and assurehim that in future she would take her problems only to a reliablephysician.
* * * * *
Footsteps were coming down the short hall from the back of thebuilding. Then Reuben Jeffries' voice said, "Go into the office. Thelieutenant's waiting for you there."
Cavender stubbed out his cigarette as Dexter Jones, Perrie Rochelleand Mavis Greenfield filed into the office. Jeffries closed the doorbehind them from the hall and went off.
"Sit down," Cavender said, lighting a fresh cigarette.
They selected chairs and settled down stiffly, facing him. All threelooked anxious and pale; and Perrie's face was tear-stained.
Cavender said, "I suppose you've been wondering why I had SergeantJeffries tell you three to stay behind."
Perrie began, her eyes and voice rather wild, "Mr. Cavender ...Lieutenant Cavender...."
"Either will do," Cavender said.
"Mr. Cavender, I swear you're wrong! We didn't have anything to dowith Dr. Al's ... Mr. Grady's cheating those people! At least, Ididn't. I swear it!"
"I didn't say you had anything to do with it, Perrie," Cavenderremarked. "Personally I think none of you had anything to do with it.Not voluntarily, at any rate."
He could almost feel them go limp with relief. He waited. After asecond or two, Perrie's eyes got the wild look back. "But...."
"Yes?" Cavender asked.
Perrie glanced at Dexter Jones, at Mavis.
"But then what _did_ happen?" she asked bewilderedly, of the other twoas much as of Cavender. "Mr. Cavender, I saw something appear on thatplate! I know it did. It was a sandwich. It looked perfectly natural.I don't think it could have possibly been something Mr. Grady did withmirrors. And how could it have had the paper napkin Mavis had justbeen thinking about wrapped around it, unless...."
"Unless it actually was a materialization of a mental image you'dcreated between you?" Cavender said. "Now settle back and relax,Perrie. There's a more reasonable explanation for what happenedtonight than that."
He waited a moment, went on. "Grady's one real interest is money andsince none of you have any to speak of, his interest in you was thatyou could help him get it. Perrie and Dexter showed some genuinetalent to start with, in the line of guessing what card somebody wasthinking about and the like. It's not too unusual an ability, and initself it wasn't too useful to Grady.
"But he worked on your interest in the subject. All the otherstudents, the paying students, had to lose was a sizable amount ofcash ... with the exception of Mrs. Folsom who's been the next thingto a flip for years anyway. She was in danger. And you three stood agood chance of letting Grady wreck your lives. I said he's a competenthypnotist. He is. Also a completely ruthless one."
He looked at Mavis. "As far as I know, Mavis, you haven't everdemonstrated that you have any interesting extrasensory talents likeDexter's and Perrie's. Rather the contrary. Right?"
She nodded, her eyes huge.
"I've always tested negative. Way down negative. That's why I wasreally rather shocked when that.... Of course, I've always beenfascinated by such things. And he insisted it would show up in mesometime."
"And," Cavender said, "several times a week you had special littletraining sessions with him, just as his two star pupils here did, tohelp it show up. You were another perfect stooge, from Grady's pointof view. Well, what it amounts to is that Grady was preparing to makehis big final killing off this group before he disappeared from thecity. He would have collected close to thirty thousand dollarstonight, and probably twice as much again within the next month or sobefore any of the students began to suspect seriously that Dr. Al'sinstruments could be the meaningless contraptions they are.
"You three have been hypnotically conditioned to a fare-you-well inthose little private sessions you've had with him. During the pastweek you were set up for the role you were to play tonight. When yougot your cue--at a guess it was Mrs. Folsom's claim that she'd seenthe ham sandwich materialize--you started seeing, saying, acting, andthinking exactly as you'd been told to see, say, act, and think.There's no more mystery about it than that. And in my opinion you'rethree extremely fortunate young people in that we were ready to movein on Grady when we were."
* * * * *
There was silence for a moment. Then Perrie Rochelle said hesitantly,"Then Mrs. Folsom...."
"Mrs. Folsom," Cavender said, "has also enjoyed the benefits of manyprivate sessions with Grady. She, of course, was additionally payingvery handsomely for them. Tonight, she reported seeing what she'd beentold to report seeing, to set off the hypnotic chain reaction."
"But," Perrie said, "she said her heart attacks stopped after shestarted using the instrument. I really don't see how that could havebeen just her imagination?"
"Very easily," Cavender said. "I've talked with her physician. Mrs.Folsom belongs to a not uncommon type of people whose tickers are assound as yours or mine, but who are convinced they have a seriousheart ailment and can dish up symptoms impressive enough to foolanyone but an informed professional. They can stop dishing them upjust as readily if they think they've been cured." He smiled faintly."You look as if you might be finally convinced, Perrie."
She nodded. "I ... yes, I guess so. I guess I am."
"All right," Cavender said. He stood up. "You three can run alongthen. You won't be officially involved in this matter, and no one'sgoing to bother you. If you want to go on playing around with E.S.P.and so forth, that's your business. But I trust that in future you'llhave the good sense to keep away from characters like Grady. Periodsof confusion, chronic nightmares--even chronic headaches--are a goodsign you're asking for bad trouble in that area."
They thanked him, started out of the office in obvious relief. At thedoor, Perrie Rochelle hesitated, looked back.
"Mr. Cavender...."
"Yes?"
"You don't think I ... I need...."
"Psychiatric help? No. But I understand," Cavender said, "that youhave a sister in Maine who's been wanting you to spend the summer withher. I think that's a fine idea! A month or two of sun and salt wateris exactly what you can use to drive the last of this nonsense out ofyour mind again. So good night to the three of you, and good luck!"
* * * * *
Cavender snapped the top of the squat little thermos flask back inplace and
restored it to the glove compartment of Jeffries' car. Hebrushed a few crumbs from the knees of his trousers and settled backin the seat, discovering he no longer felt nearly as tired and washedout as he had been an hour ago in the lecture room. A few cups ofcoffee and a little nourishment could do wonders for a man, even atthe tail end of a week of hard work.
The last light in the Institute building across the street went outand Cavender heard the click of the front door. The bulky figure ofDetective Sergeant Reuben Jeffries stood silhouetted for a moment inthe street lights on the