Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
something was definitely up. The house was provided with double doors as protection against the Ranson passed the conventional electric eye and a polite robot voice books. As Ranson entered, he swung about, frowning, one hand dropping quickly, Mr. Ranson!" ." Ranson wondered why Haller didn't come to the point. Even Terrestial Intelligence headquarters in New York hadn't known why a T.I. man was wanted on Ranson put it directly. "Why did you require the help of T.I., Mr. police force to handle." Jared Haller's strong hands tapped nervously upon the desk. "No one has greater respect for our local authorities than myself. Captain Maxwell is a personal friend of mine. But I understood that T.I. men had the benefit of certain amazing devices, remarkable inventions, which make it easy for them to track down criminals." Ranson nodded. That was true. T.I. didn't allow its secret devices to be used by any other agency, for fear they might become known to the criminals and outlaws of the solar system. But Haller still hadn't told what crime had taken place. This time Ranson applied the spur of "Mr. Ranson," Haller leaned forward, his face a gray grim mask, Ranson nodded, eyes intent as the pattern unfolded. "But," ... Ranson frowned ... "this is only an interesting supposition. "Suicide, insanity, heart attack." Ranson shrugged. "All perfectly Ranson again, his eyes were bleak as a lunar plain. "Music?" Ranson echoed. "Look here, Mr. Haller, you...." Jared Haller froze, his face gray as lead, his eyes blue horror. Ranson "God!" Haller snarled. "What ... what is it?" "Don't know." Ranson felt a queer irritation growing within him. He Suddenly the elfin melody changed. Fierce, harsh, it rose, until Ranson wild music. Berserk rage sounded in each shivering note and Ranson felt Turning, Ranson found himself face to face with Jared Haller. But the self-preservation, Ranson never knew, but he drove at Haller with grim The end came with startling suddenness. Ranson, twisting his opponent's childhood, the voices of those beyond life.... Ranson walked stiffly Like a sleepwalker he climbed to the sill, stood outlined in the tall window. Twenty feet to the ground, almost certain death ... but Ranson stopped. Ranson shook himself, like a man awakening from a nightmare, saw uniformed figures leaping to the bank. From the shadow of the disappeared among the twisting narrow streets. Bathed in cold sweat, Ranson stepped back into the room, where the still, terrible form of Jared Haller lay. Ranson stared at it, as though seeing it for the the canal-patrolmen raced through the house, toward the study. And then, his brain weary as if it had been cudgelled, Ranson slid limply to the floor. Headquarters of the Martian Canal-Patrol was brilliantly lighted by a "You killed Haller," Captain Maxwell said. "And you blame it on this Let me out of here for twelve hours! That's all I ask! And if I don't track down whoever was outside Haller's house, you can...." "Sorry." Captain Maxwell shook his head. "You know I'd like to, Ranson. But this is murder. To let a confessed murderer, even though he is a motioned to the two gray-uniformed patrolmen. "Take Mr. Ranson." And then Steve Ranson went into action. In one blinding burst of speed, he lunged across the desk, tore Captain Maxwell's pistol from its holster. Before the captain and the two patrolmen knew what had happened, they were staring into the ugly muzzle of the flame-gun. "You can't get away with this, Ranson!" Captain Maxwell shook his head. "It'll only make it tougher for you when we nab you again! Be sensible! Put down that gun." "No good. Got to work fast." Ranson backed toward the door, gun in hand. "Let this mad music go unchecked and it's death to all terrestials on Mars! And I'm going to stop it! So long, captain! You can try me for murder if you want, after I've done my job here!" Ranson took the key from the massive plastic door as he backed through the entrance. Once in the hall, he slammed the door shut, locked Maxwell and his men in the room. Then, dropping the gun into his pocket, he ran swiftly down the corridor to the main entrance of headquarters. In the hall a patrolman glanced at him suspiciously, halted him, but a wave of Ranson's T.I. card put the man aside. Free of headquarters, Ranson began to run. Only a few moments, he knew, before Maxwell and his men blasted a way to freedom, set out in pursuit. Like a lean gray shadow Ranson ran, twisting, dodging, among the narrow streets, heading toward Haller's house. Mercis was a dream Haller's house stood dark and brooding beside the canal. Captain Maxwell's men had completed their examination and the place was deserted. Ranson stepped into the shadow of the clump of fragrant fayeh bushes, where the unknown musician had stood there was little danger, he felt, of patrolmen hunting for him at Haller's house. The captain had little faith in copybook maxims about the murderer returning to the scene of the crime. Ranson stood motionless for a moment as a canal boat swept by, then with small dials, gauges. This was the T.I.'s most cherished secret, the famous "electric bloodhound," by which criminals could be tracked. Ranson tapped the cane carefully upon the ground, avoiding those places where he had stood. Few people crossed this overgrown embankment, and it was a safe bet that no one other than the strange musician had been there recently. The scent was a clear one, and the dials on the upon sensitive nerve filaments, and they knew that any normal human can follow a trail of some strong odor such as perfumes, or gasoline, while animals, possessing more sensitive perceptions, can follow Ranson now carried. As Ranson plunged further into the old Martian quarter, the trail grew passersby. He was forced to stop, cast about like a bloodhound, tapping every square foot of the street before the R-2340-B on the dial showed that he had once more picked up the faint elusive scent. Deeper and deeper Ranson plunged into the dark slums of Mercis. Smoky softly along, wrapped in their loose dust-robes. At the end of an alley where the purple shadows lay like stagnant pools, Ranson paused. The alley was a cul-de-sac, which meant that the person he was trailing must have entered one of the houses. Very dropped it into his pocket, and drew his flame-gun. The old house was dark, with an air of morbid deadly calm about it. Ranson tried the door, found it locked. A quick spurt from his the days of the Canal-Builders. At the end of the hallway, however, light jetted through a half-open door. Ranson moved toward it, silent as a phantom, muscles tense. Gripping his flame-gun, he pushed the door black fluid did not so much as waver at Ranson's entrance. at Ranson. Quick as he was, the T.I. man was quicker. A spurt of "Exactly, Mr. Ranson." Elath Taen smiled thinly. "Listen!" "Come ... come on," Ranson said thickly. "Got to get out of here." the influence of the weird dream-music. Ranson knew he should act, smile of triumph on his face. Ranson turned to the direction of Taen, the laboratory, all faded into a kaleidoscopic whirl. Ranson felt

<question>:
Why did Ranson feel safe returning to Haller's home?

<options>:
A He had already killed Haller.
B The house was deserted.
C The music drew him there.
D He knew Maxwell's patrol wouldn't search for him there.

<answer>:

D