Mr. Adam by Pat Frank

told Jane. “We’ve got to find out what this is all about.”She apparently didn’t think I was especially dangerous, because she simply turned her head.
    I dressed in a hurry, although I wasn’t actually worried. As a matter of fact, the thought of Homer being interested in The Frame was in some ways encouraging. At least one inhibition was breaking down, and for a man in Homer’s position, such an inhibition was not good for the soul. Further, it seemed a good sign that his lethargy and despondency could be cured. He could go out with The Frame if he wanted—so long as complications didn’t develop. However, I wasn’t going to allow any Hollywood press agent to use Homer for creating headlines. If Homer found relaxation and a measure of escape with The Frame, it was one thing. But as a publicity stunt, it was out.
    I called the Press Club, located Finney, and got him on the phone. “Look, Oscar,” I said, “that bimbo of yours is out with my boy Homer, and it smells ungood.”
    â€œOh, is that where she went?” Oscar said. “I’ve been trying to reach her all morning, because I’m going to New York.”
    â€œYou know damn well that’s where she is,” I said.
    â€œNo. Honest, Steve, I didn’t.” He sounded like he was telling the truth.
    â€œOscar,” I warned him, “don’t try to pull any stunts with Adam. This business is too fundamental to mess it up just for the sake of a little publicity.”
    Finney hesitated a moment before he answered. Finally he said, “Steve, I’ll lay it on the line. Kathy herself suggested it would be a smart pitch to hook her up with Adam. She’s been after me about it for days. Last night when I saw you and Adam in the Blue Room I thought I’d go ahead with it. Then I thought, no, I’d better not. For one thing, from now on Kathy’s got to make her name on the screen, and not in the papers. And it might have bad repercussions, especially with the women. She’s not too popular with the womennow, for a number of obvious reasons, and if it looked as if she were trying to snag the only whole male on earth, she might get decidedly unpopular. You saw how that amateur Borgia acted last night. I told Riddell to lay off. I told her that grabbing Adam would be like stealing the U.S. Mint, and it would be bad box office. So she said okay, and if she’s out with Adam, then it’s news to me. Do you know where they are?”
    â€œHaven’t the foggiest notion,” I said, and added, “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind Homer seeing Kitty—or Kathy—so long as it doesn’t break into print. It might be good for Homer.”
    â€œHave you ever seen a pregnant starlet?” Oscar inquired.
    â€œDon’t worry,” I reassured him, “Homer is shy and harmless. Nothing like that is going to happen.”
    â€œRiddell isn’t harmless,” Oscar said. “Furthermore, she might get ideas. All the women seem to be crazy nowadays. There are plenty of girls out on the Coast who wouldn’t think of spoiling their figures by having babies when babies could be begat by their own husbands with no trouble at all. Now that they can’t have ’em, they all want ’em.”
    I told Oscar I would be responsible. It occurred to me that for a newspaperman who had always watched other people carrying the world’s burdens I was making myself responsible for a lot of things.
    It wasn’t hard to locate Adam and The Frame, for as I pointed out he was not a person who could vanish into the stream of humanity without a ripple. The doorman at the Shoreham remembered that Mr. Adam had taken a cab to the Smithsonian Institute. Jane wondered why, and I told her about the archeological mating of Homer and The Frame.
    At the Smithsonian we went to the South American annex. It was a good guess. We found Homer and the girl sitting