Manly Wade Wellman - Chapbook 02 by Devil's Planet (v1.1) Page A

Burreau mechaniss fiddled with yourr sspeech-vibrra- torr?” he demanded.
                 “They
have fiddled,” replied Stover on inspiration, thankful that his voice echoed
inside the metal-headpiece like that of the average speaking robot.
                 “Then
they sshall hearr frrom me,” promised Girra balefully. “Only
I sshall sserrvice my helperr herre- afterr.” He turned back to his
work. “All innerr plating of thiss aparrt- ment to be
rremoved and rreplaced. Lessserr injurriess may have affected adjoining
aparrtmentss. Come.”
                THEY
returned to the outer hall.
                 Girra
paused to examine the doorway from which the panel had been blown away.
                 “New
jamb needed herre,” he announced. “Had not that rroom been sso sstrongly made,
thiss whole towerr might have been wrrecked.”
                 Stover
should have been paying attention like a good robot, but at that moment new
figures entered. Congreve came first, grim and trim and masterful. Behind him
came Buckalew, in brown velvet-faced tunic and half-boots, sober-faced and a
trifle worried in manner. The four visitors all started toward Congreve at
once.
                 “Mace
Malbrook’s will—” began Reynardine.
                 “My
stepdaughter’s interests—’’ boomed Phogor at the same time.
                 “Chief,
these High-tower swells are driving me—” complained the officer on guard.
                 “If
you haven’t recaptured Stover by this time—” threatened Fielding.
                 All
this made deafening confusion. Throwing up his hands, Congreve fairly roared a
command for silence. It fell, and he spoke coldly.
                 “I
told Stover himself, before he escaped, that you idle-richers had things too
much your own way, and that I was going to show, in this case, that the law is
some steps higher than money. If any of you think you’re running this show for
me you’re wrong. I don’t know what authorities got you passes to this place,
but I declare them no good.
                 “Your
interests all around will be looked after to the best ability of the police
department, but none of you are more important than the capture and punishment
of the murderer. Now get out, all of you except Buckalew.”
                 “How
does Buckalew enjoy a privilege that’s denied us?” wrathfully bellowed Phogor.
                 “It’s
not a privilege,” replied Congreve with a frosty smile. “If it will help clear
this place, I will inform you that he’s under suspicion as Stover’s friend and
host, and unable to explain his whereabouts on the night of the killing.”
                 Amyas
Crofts, who had not joined the confusion, now addressed Congreve. “Are you
aware, sir, that Miss MacGowan has disappeared? I went
to her lodgings an hour ago, and she was gone. Nobody knew when or how she had left, or where bound. With Stover at large, I’m afraid for
her.”
                 “Save
your fears,” called Bee Mac-
                 Gowan’s
clear voice as she entered.
                 All
gazed as she walked up to Congreve.
                 “They
said at your headquarters that you were here,” she said. “I come to give myself
up.”
                 “Give yourself up!” echoed Buckalew, Congreve and Crofts
together.
                 She
smiled quietly, and nodded.
                 “I
must make an admission,” she went on, as if reciting. “I said once that I came
here to interview Mr. Malbrook just at the time of his death. The capture of
Mr. Stover took your minds off me without further questioning. Prrala, before
his death, tried to say that someone had come into the apartment during his
talk with Malbrook. I am that someone.”