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〃Oh； those！ I wish I had them to give to you。〃
〃You did take those pictures？〃
〃I tried。〃
〃What do you mean 。。。 you tried？〃
〃The bloody things never came out。〃 Mothershed gave a nervous cough。
〃My camera fogged。 That's the second time that's happened to me。〃 He was babbling now。
〃I even threw out the negatives。 They were no good。 It was a plete waste of film。 And you l：：now how expensive film is these days。〃 He's a bad liar； Robert thought。 He's on the edge of panic。 Robert said sympathetically； 〃Too bad。 Those photographs would have been very helpful。〃 He said nothing about the list of passengers。 If Mothershed lied about the photographs； he would lie about the list。 Robert glanced around。 The photographs and the list had to be hidden here somewhere。 They shouldn't be difficult to find。
The flat consisted of a small living room； a bedroom； a bathroom； and what looked like a door to a utility closet。 There was no way he could force the man to hand over the material。 He had no real authority。 But he wanted those photographs and the list of witnesses before the 515 came and took them away。 He needed that list for himself。
〃Yes。〃
Mothershed sighed。
〃Those pictures would have been worth a fortune。〃
〃Tell me about the spaceship；〃 Robert said。 Mothershed gave an involuntary shudder。 The eerie scene was fixed in his mind forever。
〃I'll never forget it；〃 he said。
〃The ship seemed to…to pulsate； like it was alive。 There was something evil about it。 And then there were these two dead aliens inside。〃
〃Can you tell me anything about the passengers on the bus？〃
Sure I can； Mothershed gloated to himself。 I have all their names and addresses。
〃No； I'm afraid I can't。〃 Moth… 1 ershed went on； talking to conceal his nervousness。
〃The reason I can't help you with the passengers is that I wasn't on that bus。 They were all strangers。〃
〃I see。 Well； thank you for your cooperation； Mr。 Mothershed。 I appreciate it。 Sorry about your pictures。〃
〃So am I；〃 Mothershed said。 He watched the door close behind the stranger and thought happily； I've done it！ I've outsmarted the sonsol'bitches。
Outside in the hall； Robert was examining the lock on the door。 A Chubb。 And an old model。 It would take him seconds to open it。 He would start surveillance in the middIe of the night and wait for the photographer to leave the flat in the morning。 Once I have the list of passengers in my possession； the rest of the assignment will be simple。 Robert checked into a small hotel near Mothershed's flat and telephoned General Hilliard。
〃I have the name of the English witness； General。〃
〃Just a moment。 All right。 Go ahead； mander。〃
〃Leslie Mothershed。 He lives in Whitechapel； at 213A Grove Road。〃
〃Excellent。 I'll arrange for the British authorities to speak to him。〃
Robert did not mention the passenger list or the photographs。
Those were his aces in the hole。
* * * Reggie's Fish and Chip Shop was located in a little cul…de…sac off the Brompton Road。 It was a small establishment with a clientele made up mainly of clerks and secretaries who worked in the neighborhood。 Its walls were covered with football posters； and the parts that were exposed had not seen fresh paint since the Suez conflict。
The phone behind the counter rang twice before it was answered by a large man dressed in a greasy wool sweater。 The man looked like a typical East Ender except for a gold…rimmed monocle fixed tightly in the socket of his leff eye。 The reason for the monocle was apparent to anyone who looked closely at the man： His other eye was made of glass and of a color blue that was generally seen on travel posters。
〃Reggie here。〃
〃This is the Bishop。〃
〃Yes； sir；〃 said Reggie； his voice dropping to a whisper。
〃Our client's name is Mothershed。 Christian tag； Leslie。 Resides at 213A Grove Road。 We need this order filled quickly。 Understood？〃
〃It's already done； sir。〃
eslie Mothershed was lost in a golden daydream。 He was being interviewed by members of the world press。 They were asking him about the huge castle he had just bought in Scotland； his chateau in the South of France； his enormous yacht。
〃And is it true that the Queen has invited you to bee the official royal photographer？〃
〃Yes。 I said I would let her know。 And now； ladies and gentlemen； if you will all excuse me； I'm late for my show at the B。C。。。。'； His reverie was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell。 He looked at his watch。 Eleven o'clock。 Has that man returned？ He walked over to the door and cautiously opened it。 In the doorway stood a man shorter than Mothershed （that was the first thing he noticed about him）； with thick glasses and a thin； sallow face。
〃Excuse me；〃 the man said diffidently。
〃I apologize for disturbing you at this hour。 I live just down the block。 The sign outside says you're a photographer。〃
〃So？〃
〃Do you do passport photos？〃
Leslie Mothershed do passport photos？ The man who is about to own the world？ That is like asking Michelangelo to paint the bathroom。
〃No；〃 he said rudely。 He started to close the door。
〃I really hate to bother you； but I'm in a terrible jam。
My plane leaves for Tokyo at eight o'clock in the morning； and a little while ago when I took out my passport； I saw that somehow my photograph had been torn loose。 It's missing。 I've looked everywhere。
They won't let me on the plane without a passport photo。〃 The little man was near tears。
〃I'm sorry；〃 Mothershed said。
〃I can't help you。〃
〃I'd be willing to pay you a hundred pounds。〃 A hundred pounds？
Toaman withacas the andachateau and a yacht？ It's an insult。 The pathetic little man was going on。
〃I could go even higher。 Two hundred or three hundred。 You see； I really must be on that plane or I'll lose my job。〃
Three hundred pounds to take a passport picture？ Not including the developing； it would take about 10 seconds。 Mothershed began to calculate。 That came to 1；800 pounds a minute。 Eighteen hundred pounds a minute was 10；800 pounds an hour。 If he worked an eight…hour day； that would be 94；400 pounds a day。 In one week； that would e to 〃Will you do it？〃
Mothershed's ego jockeyed with his greed； and greed won out。 I can use a bit of pocket money。
〃e in；〃 Mothershed said。
〃Stand against that wall。〃
〃Thank you。 I really appreciate this。〃 Mothershed wished he had a Polaroid camera。 That would have made it so simple。 He picked up his Vivitar and said； 〃Hold still。〃 Ten seconds later it was done。
〃It will take a while to develop it；〃 Mothershed said。
〃If you e back in…〃
〃If you don't mind； I'll wait。〃
〃Suit yourself。〃
Mothershed took the camera into the darkroom； put it into the black bag； turned off the overhead light； switched on the red light； and removed the film。 He would do this in a hurry。 Passport pictures always looked terrible anyway。 Fifteen minutes later； as Mothershed was timing the film in the developer tanks； he began to smell smoke。 He paused。 Was it his imagination？ No。 The smell was getting stronger。 He turned to open