And they whipped upright in a listening attitude. Sensation of bedclothes. Cool floor under running feet and the endless corridor until at last they burst through the door into the orchid room and screamed and dodged the startled grasp of Ben Reich while he raised something to father’s mouth. Raised what? Hold that image. Photograph it. Christ! That horrible muffled explosion. The back of the head burst out and the loved, the adored, the worshipped figure crumpling unbelievably, tearing at their hearts while they moaned and crawled across the floor to snatch a malignant steel flower from the waxen—

“Get up, Linc! For heaven’s sake!”

Powell found himself dragged to his feet by Mary Noyes. The air was crackling with indignation.

“Can’t I leave you alone for a minute? Idiot!”

“Have I been kneeling here long, Mary?”

“At least a half hour. I came in and found you two like this…”

“I got what I was after. It was a gun, Mary. An ancient explosive weapon. Clear picture. Take a look…”

“Mmmm. That’s a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Where’d Reich get it? Museum?”

“I don’t think so. I’m going to play a long shot. Kill two birds. Leave me at the phone…”

Powell lurched to the phone and dialed BD-12,232. Presently, Church’s twisted face appeared on the screen.

“Hi, Jerry.”

“Hello… Powell.” Cautious. Guarded.

“Did Gus Tate buy a gun from you, Jerry?”

“Gun?”

“Explosive weapon. XX^th Century style. Used in the D’Courtney murder.”

“No!”

“Yes indeed. I think Gus Tate is our killer, Jerry. I was wondering if he bought the gun from you. I’d like to bring the picture of the gun over and check it with you.” Powell hesitated and then stressed the next words gently: “It’d be a big help, Jerry, and I’ll be extremely appreciative. Extremely. Wait for me. I’ll be up in half an hour.”

Powell hung up. He looked at Mary. Image of an eye winking. “That ought to give little Gus time to hustle over to Church’s place.”

“Why Gus? I thought Ben Reich was —” She caught the picture Powell had sketched in at @kins’ house. “Oh. I see. It’s a trap for both Tate and Church. Church sold the gun to Reich.”

“Maybe. It’s a long-shot. But he does run a hock-shop, and that’s next door to a museum.”

“And Tate helped Reich use the gun on D’Courtney? I don’t believe it.”

“Almost a certainty, Mary.”

“So you’re playing one against the other.”

“And both against Reich. We’ve failed on the Objective Level all the way down the line. From here on in it’s got to be peeper tricks or I’m through.”

“But suppose you can’t play them against Reich? What if they call Reich in?”

“They can’t. We lured Reich out of town. Scared Keno Quizzard into running for his life, and Reich’s out somewhere trying to cut him off and gag him.”

“You really are a thief, Linc. I bet you did steal the weather.”

“No,” he said. “Dishonest Abe did.” He blushed, kissed Mary, kissed Barbara D’Courtney, blushed again and left the house in confusion.