 What was the goal of Frank's newspaper ad?
THE PERFECTIONISTS By ARNOLD CASTLE ILLUSTRATED by SUMMERS Is there something wrong with you? Frank Pembroke sat behind the desk of his shabby little office over Lemark's Liquors in downtown Los Angeles and waited for his first customer. Therefore, it was with a mingled sense of excitement and satisfaction that he greeted the tall, dark, smooth-faced figure that came up the stairs and into the office shortly before noon. Opening the desk drawer, which was almost empty, Pembroke removed an automatic pistol fitted with a silencer. Pointing it at the amazed customer, he fired four .22 caliber longs into the narrow chest. Then he made a telephone call and sat down to wait. The series of events leading up to Pembroke's present occupation had commenced on a dismal, overcast evening in the South Pacific a year earlier. Standing on the forward deck, Pembroke was one of the first to perceive the peculiar odor and to spot the immense gray hulk wallowing in the murky distance. Then the explosion had come, from far below the waterline, and the decks were awash with frantic crewmen, officers, and the handful of passengers. Pembroke came as close to being a professional adventurer as one can in these days of regimented travel, organized peril, and political restriction. He had made for himself a substantial fortune through speculation in a great variety of properties, real and otherwise. Life had given him much and demanded little, which was perhaps the reason for his restiveness. Loyalty to person or to people was a trait Pembroke had never recognized in himself, nor had it ever been expected of him. And yet he greatly envied those staunch patriots and lovers who could find it in themselves to elevate the glory and safety of others above that of themselves. Lacking such loyalties, Pembroke adapted quickly to the situation in which he found himself when he regained consciousness. The wallet in his pocket contained exactly what it should, approximately three hundred dollars. His situation could have been any small western American seacoast city. In his full-gaited walk, he was soon approaching the beach. One in particular, an attractive woman of about thirty, tossed back her long, chestnut locks and gazed up intently at Pembroke as he passed. "You're not casual enough, for one thing," said Pembroke, deciding to play along with her for the moment. She scribbled a name and an address on a small piece of paper and handed it to him. Pembroke left the beach and walked through several small specialty shops. Pembroke watched with lifted eyebrows as the clerk whisked the bizarre statuette underneath the counter.
 To lure out people from Puerto Pacifico to use as evidence.
 To find clients for his new business.  To lure out people from Puerto Pacifico to use as evidence.  To carry out his orders in his mission on Earth.  To lure out people from Puerto Pacifico to connect with.