There was a long pause while the legal staff digested the drama.

“All right,” Powell said. “That’s the picture. Now let’s feed the data to Mose for an opinion. First, Opportunity. You won’t deny that the Sardine game provided Reich with perfect opportunity?”

“How’d Reich know they were going to play Sardine?” the D.A. muttered.

“Reich bought the book and sent it to Maria Beaumont. He provided his own Sardine game.”

“How’d he know she’d play the game?”

“He knew she liked games. Sardine was the only legible game in the book.”

“I don’t know…” The D.A. scratched his head.

“Mose takes a lot of convincing. Feed it to him. Won’t do any harm.”

The office door banged open and Commissioner Crabbe marched in as though heading a parade.

“Mr. Prefect Powell,” Crabbe pronounced formally.

“Mr. Commissioner?”

“It has come to my attention, sir, that you are perverting that mechanical brain for the purpose of implicating my good friend, Ben Reich, in the foul and dastardly murder of Craye D’Courtney. Mr. Powell, such a purpose is grotesque. Ben Reich is an honorable and leading citizen of our country. Furthermore, sir, I have never approved of that mechanical brain. You were chosen by the electorate to exercise your intellectual powers, not bow in slavery to that—”

Powell nodded to Beck, who began feeding the punched data into Mose’s ear. “You’re absolutely right, commissioner. Now, about the Method. First question: How’d Reich knock out the guards. De Santis?”

“And furthermore, gentlemen…” Crabbe continued.

“Rhodopsin Ionizer,” De Santis spat. He picked up a plastic sphere and tossed it to Powell who exhibited it. “Man named Jordan developed it for Reich’s private police. I’ve got the empiric processing formula ready for the Computer, and the sample we mocked up. Anybody care to try it?”

The D.A. looked dubious. “I don’t see the use. Mose can make up his own mind about that.”

“In addition to which, gentlemen…” Crabbe summarized.

“Oh come on,” De Santis said with unpleasant cheerfulness. “You’ll never believe us unless you see it for yourself. It doesn’t hurt. Just makes you non compos for six or seven—”

The plastic bulb shattered in Powell’s fingers. A vivid blue light flared under Crabbe’s nose. Caught in mid-oration, the Commissioner collapsed like an empty sack. Powell looked around in horror.

“Good heavens!” be exclaimed. “What have I done? That bulb simply melted in my fingers.” He looked at De Santis and spoke severely. “You made the covering too thin, De Santis. Now see what you’ve done to Commissioner Crabbe.”

“What I’ve done!”

“Feed that data to Mose,” the D.A. said in a voice rigid with control. “This I know he’ll buy.”

They made the Commissioner’s body comfortable in a deep chair. “Now, the murder method,” Powell continued. “Kindly watch this, gentlemen. The hand is quicker than the eye.” He exhibited a revolver from the police museum. From the chambers he removed the shells, and from one of the shells he extracted the bullet. “This is what Reich did to the gun Jerry Church gave him before the murder. Pretended to make it safe. A phoney alibi.”