Bad

Thea inhaled deeply, feeling her mind gather toward a kind of settled purpose, if not clarity. "You can't know how bad it is."

Urquhart drew out one of his cigars and got it going. In a few minutes they had the situation nicely clouded. Presently the phone rang. Thea picked up the receiver and immediately let it drop. "No calls."

Urquhart shrugged. "Bad."

She reached into her shoulder bag and fished out a microcasette recorder, which she slid across the desk toward him.

"Just listen."