Fontana looked at Sierra. "Another cup for you, Miss McIntyre?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you." She glanced at her notes, determined to take charge. "Are you aware of the growing problem of the illegal drug called ghost juice?"

"I've read your stories about it, yes."

"Then you know that, for some reason, the majority of the addicts are former Guild men who are now living on the streets of the Quarter?"

Fontana lounged against the edge of the desk and crossed his arms. "I believe I read that in your last piece on the subject, yes."

"It's the truth. The experts think that for some reason, ghost hunters might be more susceptible to the drug because of their particular parapsych profiles. There's an old saying that the Guild takes care of its own. Don't you think that the Crystal organization should be actively working to get the drug off the streets?"

"You know, my public relations people advised me not to grant this interview."

"I'll bet they did. I'm sure they would prefer that you not talk to the press at all."

"It isn't the press, in general, they're worried about." Fontana smiled. "It's you, Miss McIntyre. You have something of a reputation."

"Your public relations people don't like me very much, if that's what you mean."

"That's what I mean." He uncrossed his arms and reached back across the desk to pick up a copy of the Curtain. He held up the front page so that she could read it.

"This is your most recent scoop, I believe," he said. "Oddly enough, my PR people felt that it was a little biased."

She glanced at the paper. Beneath the masthead with its familiar slogan, "Go Behind The Curtain for the Truth," was a screaming banner headline: "Mystery Man in Charge of Crystal Guild. What Is He Hiding?"