The WATERCRESS File. Victor J. Banis

There was no mistake about that, it was a symbol that was known to agents and spies about the world, the sign of the most notorious and dangerous underground organization in existence—Butterfly.

      Mathews recognized it too, and his expression went from surprise to grim appraisal, to suppressed excitement.

      “It looks authentic, all right,” he admitted, still studying the note. “I’d stake my reputation on it.”

      Jackie had risen to look over his shoulder at the note. “So would I,” he said. Mathews gave him a frosty look. “If I had one, I mean,” Jackie amended

      Mathews ignored that remark, folding the note and placing it carefully inside his billfold. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take care of it from here in,” he said to Aunt Lily. His manner toward her had become less skeptical, since he had seen the note.

      “But what does it say?” she asked. “Heavens, I think we’re entitled to know that.”

      “I wish I knew,” he said with a shake of his head. “Unfortunately, it’s a code I haven’t seen yet. But don’t worry, our boys will break it in no time flat.”

      He rose to go, the others standing also. As they did so, Mathews became aware again of the “Moonlight Sonata.” It first movement was just ending, but he was certain that the same movement had already ended earlier. What’s more, he had originally thought it was the batty one, Nasturtia, who had been playing, but she was with them now. “Who’s playing?” he asked politely.

      “That’s Honey,” Aunt Nasturtia answered proudly.

      “Entertaining a boy friend,” Mari added, in a none too pleasant voice.

      “Now, dear,” Lily scolded her mildly. “Don’t be envious. There’s nothing to prevent you from meeting your own men-friends, and bringing them home.”

      “I wouldn’t dare,” Mari said, rolling her eyes. “I did once, and between Honey and Aunt Nasturtia, the poor thing was worn out before I could even get to him myself.”

      Mathews paled slightly at the prospect of still another nymphomaniac in the house. It was beginning to seem to him that he might not be at all safe here—these women were too hungry for male flesh, and they were not the sort to whom he customarily offered his male flesh.

      “Why is Honey playing the first movement over and over?” he asked, however, curious about that fact, for the first movement had indeed begun for the third time.

      “The dear thing only knows the first movement,” Lily explained. “But wait, Honey will want to meet you.”

      Before Mathews could protest. Lily had floated away in search of the pianist. The music stopped a moment later. Mathews shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other, and waited, prepared to bolt for the front door if necessary.

      It was not, as he expected, a woman who returned with Aunt Lily, but a man—or an approximation of one, he corrected himself. In comparison to this one, Holmes was as masculine as a Marine commando.

      “Hi, I’m Honey,” the young man greeted him with an overly warm smile. His eyes went up and down Craig’s body, and Craig felt a warning draft as his clothes were metaphorically stripped from him.

      “Isn’t that rather an odd name?” Mathews asked faintly.

      Honey nodded his head. “It’s short for Honeysuckle,” he explained. “We all have floral names, if you hadn’t noticed.”

      “Why not Pansy?” Craig could not resist asking. “That’s a flower too.”

      Far from being annoyed, Honey only chuckled. Watching him, Jackie was not so perturbed as Mathews. In fact, he was far from it. It was true, Honey was effeminate, the type often described as languid.

      He had grown, however, since Jackie had last seen him, into a terribly pretty queen—thin, but with a graceful elegance about his appearance and movements. His trousers were rather loose fitting, but even so Jackie had seen a nicely formed, if small, fanny, and now that Honey was facing him, he could scarcely ignore the outline in the trousers that, unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, extended nearly halfway to the knees—and Honey had very long legs! Nelly or not, Honey had quite a lot to offer—and Jackie found himself looking forward to the offer.

      That, however, would have to be later. He forced his eyes from Honey’s leg, meeting Honey’s understanding smile with a wink. Business first, before Honey’s business.

      “I’ll tag along with you,” he said to Mathews. “I’m curious about that note myself.”

      “It isn’t necessary,” Mathews told him. He was beginning to feel dazed by the strange people who inhabited this house, and had no desire to keep company with any of them longer than necessary.

      “I’d like to, though,” Jackie insisted. “After all, I flew all the way here from the West Coast just to see if that was authentic. I’m entitled to be a little curious now.”

      Mathews yielded, more interested in reaching the safety outside than in arguing. “Well, all right,” he agreed, heading for the door. “But we’d better get with it.”

      Jackie followed him, pausing at the door to look back at the others. “I’ll be back later,” he promised. “That is, if you can find room for me. I could always sleep on a sofa.”

      “Or you could double up with Honey,” Nasturtia said.

      Honey grinned. “Sounds fine,” he said, his voice a purr. “Those sofas are beastly anyway.”