"All incapable, I suppose."
"No question. It is why we know that the murderer must be a City dweller."
"Well, then, all we have to do is pass the whole City under your cute little process."
"It would not be very practical, Elijah. There might be millions temperamentally capable of the deed."
"Millions," grunted Baley, thinking of the crowds of that long ago day who had screamed at the dirty Spacers, and of the threatening and slobbering crowds outside the shoe store the night before.
He thought: Poor Julius. A suspect!
He could hear the Commissioner's voice describing the period after the discovery of the body: "It was brutal, brutal." No wonder he broke his glasses in shock and dismay. No wonder he did not want to return to Spacetown. "I hate them," he had ground out between his teeth..
Poor Julius. The man who could handle Spacers. The man whose greatest value to the City lay in his ability to get along with them. How much did that contribute to his rapid promotions?
No wonder the Commissioner had wanted Baley to take over. Good old loyal, close-mouthed Baley. College chum! He would keep quiet if he found out about that little incident. Baley wondered how cerebroanalysis was carried out. He imagined huge electrodes, busy pantographs skidding inklines across graphed paper, self-adjusting gears clicking into place now and then.
Poor Julius. If his state of mind were as appalled as it almost had a right to be, he might already be seeing himself at the end of his career with a forced letter of resignation in the hands of the Mayor.
The squad car slanted up into the sublevels of City Hall.
It was 14:30 when Baley arrived back at his desk. The Commissioner was out. R. Sammy, grinning, did not know where the Commissioner was.
Baley spent some time thinking. The fact that he was hungry didn't register.
At 15:20 R. Sammy came to his desk and said, "The Commissioner is in now, Lije."
Baley said, "Thanks."
For once he listened to R. Sammy without being annoyed. R. Sammy, after all, was a kind of relation to R. Daneel, and R. Daneel obviously wasn't a person - or thing, rather - to get annoyed with. Baley wondered how it would be on a new planet with men and robots starting even in a City culture. He considered the situation quite dispassionately.
The Commissioner was going through some documents as Baley entered, stopping occasionally to make notations.
He said, "That was a fairly giant-size blooper you pulled out in Spacetown."
It flooded back strongly. The verbal duel with Fastolfe.
His long face took on a lugubrious expression of chagrin. "I'll admit I did, Commissioner. I'm sorry."
Enderby looked up. His expression was keen through his glasses. He seemed more himself than at any time these thirty hours. He said, "No real matter. Fastolfe didn't seem to mind, so we'll forget it. Unpredictable, these Spacers. You don't deserve your luck, Lije. Next time you talk it over with me before you make like a one-man subether hero,"
Baley nodded. The whole thing rolled off his shoulders. He had tried a grandstand stunt and it hadn't worked. Okay. He was a little surprised that he could be so casual about it, but there it was.
He said, "Look, Commissioner. I want to have a two-man apartment assigned to Daneel and myself. I'm not taking him home tonight."
"What's all this?"
"The news is out that he's a robot. Remember? Maybe nothing will happen, but if there is a riot, I don't want my family in the middle of it."
"Nonsense, Lije. I've had the thing checked. There's no such rumor in the City."
"Jessie got the story somewhere, Commissioner."
"Well, there's no organized rumor. Nothing dangerous. I've been checking this ever since I got off the trimensic at Fastolfe's dome. It was why I left. I had to track it down, naturally, and fast. Anyway, here are the reports. See for yourself. There's Doris Gillid's report. She went through a dozen Women's Personals in different parts of the City. You know Doris. She's a competent girl. Well, nothing showed. Nothing showed anywhere."
"Then how did Jessie get the rumor, Commissioner?"
"It can be explained. R. Daneel made a show of himself in the shoe store. Did he really pull a blaster, Lije, or were you stretching it a little?"
"He really pulled one. Pointed it, too."
Commissioner Enderby shook his head. "All right. Someone recognized him. As a robot, I mean."
"Hold on," said Baley, indignantly. "You can't tell him for a robot."
"Why not?"
"Could you? I couldn't."
"What does that prove? We're no experts. Suppose there was a technician out of the Westchester robot factories in the crowd. A professional. A man who has spent his life building and designing robots. He notices something queer about R. Daneel. Maybe in the way he talks or holds himself. He speculates about it. Maybe he tells his wife. She tells a few friends. Then it dies. It's too improbable. People don't believe it. Only it got to Jessie before it died."
"Maybe," said Baley, doubtfully. "But how about an assignment to a bachelor room for two, anyway?"
The Commissioner shrugged, lifted the intercom. After a while, he said, "Section Q-27 is all they can do. It's not a very good neighborhood."
"It'll do," said Baley.
"Where's R. Daneel now, by the way?"
"He's at our record files. He's trying to collect information on Medievalist agitators."
"Good Lord, there are millions."
"I know, but it keeps him happy."
Baley was nearly at the door, when he turned, half on impulse, and said, "Commissioner, did Dr. Sarton ever talk to you about Spacetown's program? I mean, about introducing the C/Fe culture?"