The Exploding Detective by John Swartzwelder Page B

The two most
formidable men in the world fighting side by side! You can use your regular
costume, of course, though I think you should have ‘Overkill’s Flying
Detective’ printed on your cape.”
    “Fine.”
    “And you should
have a better weapon than that .38 you usually carry. Have a look over there in
that pile. See if you can find something you like better.”
    I went over to a
pile of strange looking weapons and rummaged around, finally picking out a
particularly deadly looking little number, then walked back to Overkill.
    “I guess I’ll
take this one. What is it?”
    “That’s a machine
knife. The Pokemaster 5000. You can stab 1500 guys a minute with that. And
because it’s a knife and not a gun, you never run out of ammunition. No
reloading. You could have single-handedly won World War II with one of those.”
    “I would have gotten
my name in the papers if I’d done that.”
    He nodded. “In
capital letters.”
    I tripped on the
carpet and landed on Overkill, somehow accidentally turning on the Pokemaster
as I fell. His lifeless and incredibly poked body collapsed onto an alarm and
set it off. I was stunned, but not as stunned as Overkill was, judging by the
look on what was left of his face.
    As more alarms
started going off around the fortress, each one setting off the next, I noticed
I was still stabbing Overkill in the chest. This panicked me and I tried to
turn the machine off, but only managed to turn it up so it was going faster.
Pieces of flesh were flying all over the room. I finally got it turned off.
Then I checked his pulse, which had rolled under the couch. He was dead all right.
He was more than dead. I had made mincemeat out of him. If I were a clever man,
I would say I had “overkilled” him.
    I was pretty
upset. I’d just wasted a lot of time buttering up this guy. Time I wasn’t going
to get back. Plus, now I was out of a very plush, probably very high paying,
job. I didn’t know how much the number two man in the world got paid, but I
imagined it was something pretty good. The loss of that big paycheck hurt.
    I checked in his
pockets and took his wallet, his keys, and a few other odds and ends that
caught my fancy. I know readers may look askance at this, but I figured since
I’d killed the guy, robbing him wouldn’t make it much worse. I’m pretty sure he
would have wanted me to rob him after I killed him anyway.
    There
were alarms going off all over the fortress, and running feet approaching the
room, so I figured I’d better get out of there fast before anyone saw what I’d
done. Pausing only to steal a few more things from Overkill’s body, including a
shiny black ring I’d been admiring during dinner, I stood up to go. It was too
late. I had stolen one thing too many.
    The door opened
and a couple of dozen armed guards came in and stood staring at me. Finally one
of them spoke.
    “Orders, sir?”
    “Who, me?”
    “Yes. Do you have
any orders?”
    “Uh… yeah. Wait
here.”
    “Yes, New
Master.”
    I
carefully edged past them and ran down the stairs.
     

CHAPTER TEN
     
    When I got out of
the fortress, I had just sense enough to realize I should move as calmly as
possible, and try not to arouse any more suspicion than I usually do. So I
stopped running and looking over my shoulder and whimpering “oh God oh God oh
God,” and forced myself to slow down to a frightened saunter, whistling a
frightened song.
    I made my way
past a group of creatures who were working on the lawn. As I passed them, I
gave them the thumbs up. They, somewhat confusedly, returned the thumbs up.
    There was a small
launch at the dock that seemed ready to go, so I stepped aboard. The captain of
the craft, who was a dead ringer for Captain Queeg, except for the big key in
his back, approached me, frowning.
    I tried to act as
businesslike as possible. I was here on business. I wasn’t escaping. “Overkill
told me to take the boat into town for,” I said. “He wanted me to get.”
    The