Evans was thinking Jennifer had been right to warn him about this guy. He said politely, "Do you have a ticket, sir?"
"No, I don't have aticket. I don'tneed a ticket. What don't you understand, young man? I am Professor Norman Hoffman and I am a personal friend of George Morton's. Anyway," he said, "they took my ticket."
"Who did?"
"One of those guards."
Evans said to the guards, "Did you take his ticket?"
"He didn't have a ticket."
"Do you have a stub?" Evans said to Hoffman.
"No, damn it, I do not have astub. I do not need astub. I do not need any of this, frankly."
"I'm sorry, Professor, but--"
"However, I managed to hold on tothis. " He gave Evans the torn corner of a ticket. It was a genuine ticket.
"Where is the rest?"
"I told you, they took it."
A guard standing to one side beckoned to Evans. Evans went over to him. The guard turned his cupped hand, revealing the rest of the ticket in his palm. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, "but Mr. Drake gave specific orders this gentleman was not to be allowed in."
"But he has a ticket," Evans said.
"Perhaps you'd like to take it up with Mr. Drake."
By now, a television crew had wandered over, drawn by the commotion. Hoffman immediately played to the cameras, struggling anew.
"Don't bother with Drake!" Hoffman yelled to Evans. "Drake won't let truth into these proceedings!" He turned to the camera. "Nicholas Drake is an immoral fraud, and these proceedings are a travesty to the poor of the world. I bear witness to the dying children of Africa and Asia! Breathing their last because of conferences like this! Fearmongers! Immoral fearmongers!" He struggled maniacally. His eyes were wild. There was spittle on his lips. He certainly appeared crazy, and the cameras switched off; the crews turned away, seemingly embarrassed. At once, Hoffman stopped his struggle. "Never mind. I've said my piece. No one is interested, as usual." He turned to his guards. "You can let me go. I have had enough of this chicanery. I cannot bear to be here another minute. Let me go!"
Evans said, "Let him go."
The guards released Hoffman. He immediately dashed into the center of the room, where a crew was now interviewing Ted Bradley. Hoffman stepped in front of Bradley and said, "This man is a pimp! He is an eco-pimp for a corrupt establishment that makes its living by spreading false fears! Don't you understand? False fears are a plague, a modern plague!"
Then the guards were on Hoffman again, dragging him bodily out of the hall. He didn't struggle this time. He just went limp, his heels scraping on the ground as he was carried out. All he said was, "Be careful, I have a bad back. You hurt me and I'll sue you for assault."
They set him outside on the curb, dusted him off, released him.
"Have a good day, sir."
"I intend to. My days are numbered."
Evans hung back with Jennifer, watching Hoffman. "I won't say I told you," Jennifer said.
"Just who is he, anyway?"
"He's a professoremeritus at USC. He was one of the first people to study in a rigorous statistical fashion the media and its effect on society. He's quite interesting, but as you see he has developed, uh, strong opinions."
"You think Morton really invited him here?"
"Peter, I need your help," a voice said. Evans turned and saw Drake striding toward him.
"What is it?"
"Thatnut, " Drake said, nodding to Hoffman, "is probably going to go straight to the police and claim he was assaulted. We don't need that this morning. Go talk to him. See if you can calm him down."
Cautiously, Evans said, "I don't know what I can do..."
"Get him to explain his nutty theories," Drake said. "That'll keep him busy forhours. "
"But then I'll miss the conf--"
"We don't need you here. We need youthere. With the cuckoo."
There was a large crowd outside the conference center. The overflow was watching the proceedings on a big TV screen, with subtitles running underneath the speaker. Evans pushed through the gathering. "I know why you are following me," Hoffman said, when he saw Evans. "And it won't work."
"Professor--"
"You're the bright youngposeur Nick Drake sent to put me off my purpose."
"Not at all, sir."
"Yes, you are. Don't lie to me. I don't like to be lied to."
"All right," Evans said, "it's true. I was sent by Drake."
Hoffman stopped. He seemed startled by the honesty. "I knew it. And what did he tell you to do?"
"Stop you from going to the police."
"All right then, you've succeeded. Go and tell him, I am not going to the police."
"It looks like you are."
"Oh. Itlooks like I am. You're one of those people who care what itlooks like. "
"No, sir, but you--"
"I don't care what itlooks like. I care whatis. Do you have any idea what is?"
"I'm not sure I follow you."
"What is your line of work?"
"I'm a lawyer."