Martin Oliss had implanted a bomb in Carmel's brain, a ticking time-bomb of dread and agony and suspicion which Carmel would have almost preferred having it explode and get it over with. As it was, he was tortured by the passage of time before Oliss' private detective either confirmed or denied whether Carmel's wife, Lonnie, had fallen into the clutches of this blackmailing Lothario Oliss' own wife had become prey to this evil perverter, whoever he was, and it had taken Martin a great deal of courage to admit the defiliation of his home and marriage – and Carmel was sure that the only reason he had finally broken down in the El Mecca lounge last night and told him anything was because Martin Oliss held the terrible secret that more than just Cylvia was involved, that now Lonnie was also part of the vile plot to corrupt and destroy Roger Carmel.

And Roger had absolutely no idea how he was going to handle the threat if and when the blackmailer came to see him, as he had Oliss. No plan of action, negative or positive, in defiance or in acceptance, had come to the miserable vice-president all of last night or this morning. He was stymied, thoroughly confused and wretched, unable to fathom the situation, much less how to handle it. The whole affair was so damned alien to him – so utterly foreign to anything that he'd ever had to encounter before in his entire life! All his whirling mind could dwell upon was the sordid, despicable picture of his wife, his lovely, black-haired loving wife and mother of his beautiful child, in the arms and bed of another man.

His brain had continually swirled with lewd pictures of Lonnie and the animal-like unknown lover… his wife's curvaceous and alabaster