Contents ( 20)
| Well, it’s Reich for Demolition, Jax. We tripped him up in that talk,and sneaked a peep in Maria’s study just to make sure. Ben’s our boy. | |
| You’ll never prove it, Linc. | |
| Can the guards help? | |
| Not a chance. They’ve lost one solid hour. De Santis says their retinal rhodopsin was destroyed. That’s the visual purple… what you see | |
| Uh-huh. | with in your eye. As far as the guards are concerned, they were on duty and alert. Nothing happened |
| Nothing much! | until the mob suddenly blew in, and Maria was screeching at them |
| And how The Gilt Corpse can screech. | for falling asleep on the job… which they emphatically swear they did not. |
| But we know it was Reich. | |
| You know it was Reich. Nobody else does. | |
| He went up there while the guests were playing the Sardine game. He destroyed the guards’ visual purple some | |
| way and robbed them of an hour of time. He went into the Orchid Suite and killed | How? |
| D’Courtney. The girl got mixed up in it, somehow, which is why she ran. | How did he kill D’Courtney? |
| And last of all: why did he kill D’Courtney? | |
| I don’t know. I don’t know any of the answers… yet. | |
| You’ll never get a Demolition that way. | |
| That I do know. | |
| You’ve got to show motive, method, and opportunity, | |
| Uh-huh. | objectively. All you’ve got is a peeper’s knowledge that Reich killed D’Courtney. |
| Uh-huh. | |
| Did you peep how or why? | |
| Couldn’t get in deep enough… not with Jo ¼maine watching me. | |
| And you’ll probably never get in. Jo’s too careful. | |
| Hell & Damnation! Jackson, we need the girl. | |
| Barbara D’Courtney? | |
| Yes. She’s the key. If she can tell us what she saw and why she ran, we’ll satisfy a court. | I agree. |
| Collate everything we’ve got so far and file it. It won’t do us any good without the | |
| girl. Let everyone go. They won’t do us any good without | Right. |
| the girl. We’ll have to back-track on Reich… see what collateral evidence we can dig up, but— | I’m beginning to hate her. |
| But it won’t help without that goddam girl. | |
| Times like this, Mr. Beck, I hate women too. For Christ’s sake, why are they all trying to get me married? | |
| Image of a horse laughing. | |
| Sar(censored)castic retort. | |
| Sar(censored)donic reply. | |
| (censored) |
Having had the last word, Powell got to his feet and left the picture gallery. He crossed the overpass, descended to the music room and entered the main hall. He saw Reich, ¼maine, and Tate standing alongside the fountain, deep in conversation. Once again he fretted over the frightening problem of Tate. If the little peeper really was mixed up with Reich, as Powell had suspected at his party the week before, he might be mixed up in this killing.
The idea of a 1st class Esper, a pillar of the Guild, participating in murder was unthinkable; yet, if actually the fact, a son of a bitch to prove. Nobody ever got anything from a 1st without full consent. And if Tate was (incredible… impossible… 100-1 against) working with Reich, Reich himself might prove impregnable. Resolving on one last propaganda attack before he was forced to resort to police work, Powell turned toward the group.