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I was gone only a week when fate beckoned me back to the area. Bradt had offered me a substantial emolument to come back
to their company to solve one of their problems. Garry Kraut, the personnel manager, had heard of my exploits in the local
newspaper. Bradt assembled and inspected electronic parts in a fiercely competitive environment.
"I would like to hire your services to find out who's been selling trade secrets to our Japanese competitors," Kraut told
me.
"How did you know this is happening?"
"It would be much easier to show you."
So, on Saturday, 2 May, I was off to Andalusia. I decided to make it a real visit to my relatives, a bad move. This time when
I explained my reappearance, my cousin Bill wanted to come along. After cautioning him how dangerous this job could be, I
agreed. I didn't want to go solo at the time, but it turned out that I didn't have to do so!
While I was still discussing the case at the kitchen table, the telephone rang. My Aunt Madeline looked bewildered when she
turned to me and said, "It's for you,"
I felt just as bewildered when I took the receiver. "Hello."
"Mister Król, I was a good buddy of Al Manni. My name's Allen Forester. I work at Common Bearing in the Interstate Highway
Industrial Park. Before you meet Garry Kraut, I'd like to inform you that Kraut suspects my friend, Paul Purge, of selling
the technology. I ask that you keep an open mind."
"What does Paul Purge do at Bradt?"
"He works in the Inspection Department."
"How can I contact you?" I asked.
"Just leave me a message at Common Bearing, man. The guys and I would be very happy to help you solve this mystery."
No sooner had I hung up the receiver when the instrument rang again. Once again, it was for me!
"Please come over to the plant now. We're ready to give you the details," Kraut informed me.
I was over there in five minutes. Kraut took me back through a remodeled Amtrack building. There were still signs of change
in the internal structure. I saw some wires hanging from the roof, unfinished ceilings, and unpainted board walls. We went
through the same double doors I had pushed through the week before, The room I had passed while trying to escape the building
had an open door. Forsooth, a tall African-American male was sitting in a chair at the desk inside. He rose to greet Kraut
and me.
"I'm Jim Lollard," he replied to my unasked question. We shook hands, Lollard closed the door behind us, and we commenced
business.
"Jim, show him what we found," Kraut said.
Lollard produced two integrated circuits. I examined them while Kraut narrated.
"As you can see, both are exactly alike. They have the same length, the same markings, and the same voltage. Which one is
the counterfeit?"
"Mister Kraut, I am hardly an expert on integrated circuits!" I protested.
"He's right, Garry," Lollard reproved.
"George, we won't beat around the bush. I suspect that someone in the Inspection Department is selling the plans by copying
those plans as they come in," Kraut said succinctly.
"I think it would be best if I could observe the operations here for a week before I could come to any conclusions," I asserted.
"But give me your evidence anyway."
It's quite simple. Before we do assemble of electronic cash registers, we receive them in the room next door, and they come
here to make sure that they are satisfactory. It is quite easy to hide industrial sabotage in this department because the
vendors send us their plans. Hence, one could easily take plans of our secrets in manufacturing engineering and copy them
on the machine in the hall. Who could tell if an inspector just had come from the other side of the building with a legitimate
blueprint or a stolen secret?"
"Yes, but couldn't any of the testers out in the main hall do the same? What makes you so sure that the Inspection Department
holds the culprit?"
"That's why we're hiring you as a materials handler in this department -- to find out what's going on. If it not be this department,
then I want to know where the source is."
When returned to Andalusia, I thought that Kraut still had already decided who the guilty party is, and all I had to do was
to prove it.
Bill was still gone when I arrived in Andalusia, so I decided to try some sleuthing myself. Unfortunately, I could not find
any information on Bradt because it was a Saturday. I guessed that I had to wait until Monday, so I went visiting.
The telephone in the livingroom awakened me on Sunday morning. I was still using the apartment Al had rented for us Because
he had paid only the May rent, we soon had to let the lease expire unless on of us picked it up. I was wondering whether I
could more to Bensalem. -- Philadelphia offered more advancement opportunities than State College. Such thoughts occupied
my mind as I stumbled out of the queen bed.
"Did I wake you, George?" Allen Forester asked. "I really must talk to you about this case."
"Meet me here in an hour. I'll give you directions to this apartment."
I didn't have to think for such a solution. I knew that I had to meet this mysterious character so concerned with Paul Purge
I also contemplated that the apartment was a much safer place for my relatives to meet this character.
I went into the livingroom still contemplating the events. I walked over to the kitchen and began making breakfast. Birds
chirped outside, and a breeze flowed through the open windows. Yes, I decided, if I could find a reason to stay, I'd move
here.
An hour later, the buzzer sounded. I had just finished making the queen bed. By the time I reached the door, Allen was standing
at the stoop. Nearly a spitting image of our deceased, mutual friend, he grinned at me -- tall, dark, and handsome. Dressed
like a stevedore, he wore a complementary amber teshirt. We immediately shook hands. I pulled open the door and had gestured
him to the livingroom.
Allen sat down on the couch, so I flopped into a facing armchair and onto the Ottoman. Allen leaned forward as our eyes met.
"Tell me about your interest in this case", I broached.
"I left Bradt in mid-February for my present position at Common Bearing, but I kept contact with the people there. You see,
last December I started working at Bradt in the very same position you will have tomorrow."
This revelation shaped my perception of this case. I sat back against the pillows while Allen continued.
"Lollard gave me the bench in front of Paul Purge, which you will also likely have tomorrow. He has worked there for five
years loyally and meticulously. I hated leaving, but they laid me off."
"How did you know my purpose in coming here?"
"Someone called me on Friday and gave me the number of your aunt. When I called up today, they gave me the number here."
"Who do you think is selling secrets?"
Allen's dark and comely physiognomy broke into a grin. "That's what I hope you can find out. If I could figure it out, I wouldn't
be fooling around in a warehouse for a living."
I must admit that I was impressed with Allen's ingenuousness. I looked into his brown eyes and open stance for contradictions.
"Okay, buddy," I concluded. "What are you going to do to help me find the guilty party?"
"The guys and I will do anything you want, provided it's legal and moral."
I cracked a grin at the proviso. We hugged to seal the agreement. As Allen left, I never realized that such help would come
so soon.
Monday morning revealed just how thick the case had bulged. In the early morning light, a burglar took advantage of the interim
of procedure at Common Bearing. At seven thirty, the plant manager comes into the offices to open the building, at which time
he shuts off the alarms. A figure gained quick access by jamming a back door with a skeleton key. Once inside, the shadow
crept though the warehouse into the B Section to search the shelves. He calculated that he had about an hour to find his object,
an erroneous assumption.
The intruder heard voices coming into the warehouse. Surreptitiously, he crept toward the exit. It was only 6:20, but the
warehouse workers must have decided to come in an hour earlier! Instead of an hour's time, the thief found himself trapped!
Three of the ten laborers had come in already: Brian, Bob, and Rich. The three filed toward the lunchroom. As the voices
reverberated toward the front of the warehouse, the larcenist stole the other way along the other side of the room. A breeze
from the other room of the warehouse unveiled the open garage door. Bob had pulled it up in anticipation of an early delivery.
This disclosure meant escape for the criminal. However, fortune had other plans; he had just slipped across the central horizontal
aisle when Brian saw him in his peripheral vision.
"Bob, Rich," he yelled. "There's someone in here!"
Brian raced to the far end of the stack. The masked man was already halfway down the second stack. Rich meanwhile had tried
to cut off the burglar from the back of the stacks. When Bob joined them, they were backing the crook toward the doorway leading
to the other room and escape.
Jerry had entered through the opening. The commotion intrigued him to return to the area, and the clop of his work boots alerted
the intruder that he was in danger. He retreated from the doorway toward another garage door. He was standing at the lock
when he realized he was trapped., but he was also hidden from the doorway, from whence Jerry raced.
"What's going on?" he asked, unaware of the danger behind him. The other momentarily stood agape.
Before Jerry could turn around, the intruder had him in a headlock. Jerry gasped as he felt his cap peel off, exposing the
front of his skull to air. The pressure on his neck nearly choked him as his carotid arteries contracted. Jerry lost control
of his limbs as they became limp. With Jerry's heels' dragging, the mysterious stranger retreated the twelve meters to the
aperture. Rich thought about a rush, but he knew it was impossible with his crony in such peril. Bob had considered such foolhardiness
also, so the foreman shouted to his crew to allow the fugitive his escape.
Jerry felt his head swell, and he was rapidly losing consciousness. His azure eyes became glossy just as his captor reached
the outside. In a flash, the robber sprinted around the bin after a grandiloquent jump, leaving Jerry's lying supinely on
the concrete floor.
Allen was driving his car down Meadow Lane when he saw the masked man's fleeing. Although he had only an inkling that there
was something sinister occurring, Allen pulled the wain over and sortied the vehicle.
By this time, Brian and Bob were giving chase about thirty meters behind. When Allen saw his companions in the distance, he
accelerated toward the suspect. Despite his three pursuers, the fugacious adversary proved the most lithesome. Allen was the
most athletic of his friends, but even he had to watch the opponent hop into a Camaro. Allen could only see the golden tinge
of the automobile from his closest view of fifty meters. The ephemeral car became a blur as it fled up Progress Drive. Sweat
glistened in the forenoon sun on Allen's dark skin as he halted.
When Allen reached the warehouse, Rich was helping Jerry get onto a chair. As soon as Allen found out what had happened, he
dialed Bradt when it opened at 7 AM.
I was already entering data from incoming materials when Valerie, one of my coworkers, told me I had a call. I was perplexed
when I took the telephone. Allen capsuled the events, and I told him to find out if anything had been missing. I assured him
that I would stop in the warehouse that afternoon. In between, I would work on the clues of the case.
I met Paul Purge soon after I finished data entry. A short, bearded and balding man, he was very helpful getting me comfortable.
For the first day, I was more an observer than an interrogator. I saw what the inspectors did and learned the pattern. After
I thoroughly learned the apparent layout of the building, I retreated to the duty of processing boxes of materials into the
inspection department.
Afterwards, I went over to Common Bearing. Allen introduced me to the guys. I was relieved to see Jerry was alright. Because
they were still working, Bob showed me the area where they thought the thief had searched. I pulled out a magnifier. The dusty
shelves showed some prints, but there was no way I could determine which were of the fingerprints of the thief. Tim assured
me that nothing in that area was missing. Not knowing whether this incident had anything to do with my case, I knew that I
had not the time for an extensive search.
"All I can ask is that you keep looking for anything unusual in that area," I said.
"If it would help us find the rat who did that to Jerry," Tom growled determinately while slamming his left fist into his
right palm. "I'm sure we would help you!"
"I can't understand why anyone would take such a risk to steal something from Common Bearing," I confessed on the way home.
"Neither can I," Allen concurred. "I've only been there since 19 February, and no one ever mentioned any recent burglaries."
"From what I saw today at Bradt, I don't think anything unusual is going on there, either."
"So what'd we do tonight?"
"Allen, the only thing I know is confabulation."
"Huh?"
"We're going back to the apartment to pick your brains."
Allen beamed his handsome looks. "Anything I can do to help."
We were bantering as we walked up the stairway. I was amazed at how fast we had become friends. We were walking toward the
apartment door when Allen saw a slip of white paper under the wood. Mechanically, he picked it up, read the note, and blanched.
"It's for you," he frowned.
My eyes opened wide at the message: "Król, get off the case, or we might have to do it for you!"
I folded the paper, and I unlocked the door.
Allen looked concerned. "Aren't you afraid someone's in there?"
"Not this time. pal. However, we will have to be more careful afterwards."
Allen sat on the couch. I prepared supper while we did the inquiry. Once I pulled out the pans, I instructed Allen to lie
on the sofa, clear his mind, and relax his body. He closed his eyes and serenely lay for two minutes.
"Are you ready, buddy?" I broached as I began to cook the pork chops.
"Yes, George."
"Let's start with this morning. How tall was the person you chased?"
"I'd say at least one ninety centimeters."
"May I assume it was a man?"
"It's hard to determine. The figure never said anything. Besides, how could a woman be that strong?"
"I've seen it before, but in this case, I assume it'd been a man."
"I think you'd be right! This person had too flat a chest. I remember when he was running toward me!"
"Okay. Does anyone else recall anything?"
"Jerry wasn't much help. He barely remembers the insidious assault."
"When did Bob decided to start work at 6:30?"
"Well, we weren't going to work Saturday, but we did have to catch up a little. In fact, Jerry Blitz told Bob so an hour before
we left on Friday."
I had a flash of inspiration. "Who was absent in the sales office that afternoon?"
"You mean that this could have been an inside job?"
"Exactly!" I exclaimed while unpocketing the note. I unfolded it, and I walked to the large window. Sure enough, under the
actual scribble was a subtle impression. It showed what had been written on the previous page.
"What does '60B40F118" mean?"
"I learned that the week I did inventory. It's a sprocket with a base, forty teeth, a center hole one and an eighth inches
in diameter, and the sixty means the teeth are three quarters inches apart!"
"This proves that the incident this morning is related to the Bradt case."
"I don't follow."
"It's like this," I explained while back in the kitchen corner. "Obviously, the note means that someone wants me off the Bradt
case, but someone at Common Bearing wrote it. Find out who wrote the note, and we are a giant step further to solving the
mystery. Can I contact Blitz tonight?"
"I'm afraid not. He has an unlisted number only to be used in an emergency."
"Then, I need you to tell him about this note. As soon as you find out our suspect, keep an eye on him."
"Won't that be dangerous?" Allen asked perturbedly.
"No, he's an amateur, else he wouldn't have made such a simple mistake. The dangerous one is his accomplice at Brandt."
"Do you suspect that the accomplice came to Common Bearing this morning?"
"I'll find out tomorrow who was missing or came in late," I promised.
Something did bother me now that I could tie the two incidents into one case. Why did they use this way to pass information
along?
Tuesday morning, I walked into Jim Lollard's office soon after he came in. He immediately closed the door. "What's up, George?"
"Do you know anyone who has connections with Common Bearing in the Interstate Industrial Park?"
"Occasionally, they send us parts for inspection. We have little use for bearings."
"Who ordered the parts?"
"The manager of that department, Ellen Lei."
"May I speak with her?"
"Sure, let's see if she'd be in," he agreed while dialing the telephone. However, her assistant was the one who answered,
Sean McShane.
I talked to McShane for a half hour trying to pick up some pattern. The last order for a part occurred two months earlier,
before two of the pans showed up finished in the manufacturing engineering department. I was thinking that the parts went
back with the plans, perhaps rejected purposefully along the line.
I was nonplussed when I returned to my bench. Despite my finding the nexus between Bradt and Common. I couldn't find the conduit,
which I expected to lead me to the culprit. So, I concluded the plans did not pass through returned parts. I knew that it
had another flaw anyway. -- How could the operator at Common pass the plans back to the warehouse?
At break, I opened my sketchbook to an implanted note. I glanced around before I slipped it into my pocket. After five minutes,
I sneaked into a nearby restroom. Inside a stall, I brought the message out. It read:
"Król,
Come back to the Inspection Department at 9 o'clock. The outside door will be unlocked. I have information on the case which
will prove the link with Common Bearing".
When I told Bill, he wanted to come also. I informed Allen, who said he'd find out which of the guys could come. We met some
one hundred meters from the building. Bill and I crept to the entrance, and Allen would follow with Tim and Tom five minutes
later.
By the time we had the backdoor in sight, it was nearly nine o'clock. Dusk just ended, giving us cover of darkness. Bill was
to make sure that Allen and his pals waited so I could find out what this meeting was about without scaring off the informer.
At exactly nine, I tried the door, and the knob turned easily. Darkness greeted me again, like last week in the last case.
I roamed through the department. I entered the main area and took my time going up to the cage some sixty meters away. Convinced
that this was a red herring, I made my way back. A thought occurred that the informer might have left the information somewhere
in the department, maybe on my bench. I groped to the back for the light switches.
A surprise awaited me with I returned to the department some five meters away. I arrived just in time to hear a crash. Bill
had been following me because the five minutes had expired. My turning on the lights exposed him in the middle of the department.
Suddenly, figures assailed Bill in the room. He just had time to duck a left hook. A fellow behind him was just about to strike
down with a pole when Bill slammed him with an upper to the jaw. Apparently the guys had heard the commotion, for they burst
into the area right behind me as I raced to help my cousin. The assailants, now outnumbered five to two, retreated to the
front with us in hot pursuit.
Luck was with our opponents because the main room was under darkness. They forked at the end of the aisle, forcing us to split
up. Tim and Tom went left while Allen and I went right. I sidled to a parallel aisle to the employees' entrance. By the time
I sallied, I saw the two figures converge some hundred meters away. I was at the apex of the pursuers all they way until I
arrived at where their car had been a moment before!
"Did you get a look at them?" Allen asked.
"No, they just got away in time," I answered crestfallen. "Let's see if there'd been any clues in the department."
We scrutinized the room, I chose to search my own bench. After five minutes, Bill announced, "There doesn't seem to be anything
here."
"I find it hard to believe that this was just a trap. Surely, there must have been another purpose," I state with my chin
on my fist. Then the latch on Paul Purge's toolbox caught my eye. It was sticking up instead of hooked on its fastener. I
took out the top shelving to reveal a paper. Ominously, it had the diagram of the latest technology out of manufacturing engineering!
"Does this paper prove that Purge is the culprit?" Bill vocalized my internal question.
It does muddle the reason someone planted this overtaking, but at this point, I don't know. First, I have to find out it this
be genuine," I stated while pocketing the sheet.
We locked up the place after I called Kraut to tell him what had happened. "Don't forget to get someone here to lock in the
alarm."
The five of us returned to the apartment. Tim, Tom, and Allen sat on the couch, I in the armchair, and Bill on a kitchen chair.
After I offered some refreshments, I asked, "Did you find out who the informer is?"
Tim leaned forward in his scarlet jacket. "The man's Harry Shoals. Here's proof," he asserted while producing a pad. "The
top sheet had the impression of the warning note and the rip matched.
"Shoals went home early Friday. He probably learned from the Bradt conspirator that you were coming and left to consult a
strategy."
"Good deduction, Tim," I encomiated. "I take it Shoals went home rather suddenly."
"Yes," Tom confirmed while his left thumb rubbed his chin cleft. "It also explains why Shoals was so concerned when he learned
that Jerry had been hurt. At the time, it looked quite ingenuous. What'll we do now?"
"Hold off and keep watch at your end. We still don't know how they're passing the plans. Of course, we don't even know the
spy at Bradt. The plan I found tonight may lead us to him."
"I've had enough excitement for tonight," Bill perorated the conversation. "I'm gong home."
"I suppose we should all get to bed," I agreed. "It's almost ten o'clock."
We parted with the knowledge that we could break the case open. Using the absence of the plans as a probe, I figured tomorrow
was as good a chance as any.
The next morning, Paul Purge proved his innocence to me. I was undoing paperwork entropy when he first went into the toolbox.
He was not surprised that the paper was missing, nor did he search for it. He just found the tool and kept working nonchalantly.
I smirked at the perpetration.
While I was shuffling papers, something bothered me. I paused, but it wouldn't come. I decided to forget it in hopes it may
come back. Then Lollard and Kraut walked in.
"Paul," the former said. "We'd like to look into your toolbox."
The two wrenched their faces when they found nothing in the box. Lollard turned to Kraut, abashed. "Garry, who told you this?"
"Anonymous," Kraut replied innocently.
"What was that all about?" Purge asked me.
"Did you find anything unusual with your toolbox?"
"No," he answered confused.
"Someone planted evidence that would implicate you in industrial espionage," I stated positively. "it may have been their
last mistake."
Allen called me that night. "Shoals is playing it coolly."
"I expected as much. Keep vigil until I can do some cage rattling."
I fell asleep with the case on my mind. How I wish I had Don to bounce around ideas. If Purge be innocent, where does that
leave us? Method may be the answer."
"Of course, it is the answer!"
Don's voice startled me. I sat up in bed and saw his standing in the doorway. He was dressed as the night he'd been murdered.
Don flashed his dimples at me.
"George, that's the answer," he repeated.
I rubbed my eyes with my fists. I could still see my curlipate friend. Still looking at him through sleepy eyes, I said weakly,
"Don, is that you?"
Don walked toward the bed. I saw up with two pillows against the wall. A wave of joy swept over me.
"It's like that episode in "Family Ties" when Alex Keaton grieves over the death of his pal, Greg McCormick," I said. "But
I haven't seen an apparition of you in six years!"
"That's because you didn't need me until now. When I said we were friends for life, I should have said even longer."
"So why are you here?"
"You keep looking for the method of transportation of the plans. Did you ever think of a communications conduit?"
"Why, no" I blurted. "But how could they pass documents over the phone?"
Don just looked at me coldly with his azure eyes. Then I knew the answer, and the suspects narrowed. I arose from bed to hug
my old comrade. I felt shockwaves and woke to a cold sweat. I wasn't sure if my subconscious had been playing a trick on me,
or I had had a metaphysical experience. I unwrapped myself from the covers and scanned the dark room. I remained confounded
at what I just experienced. No longer dumbfounded, I whispered, "Thanks, Don. We solved the conundrum."
The rest of the night was dreamless. Sure, I was excited about the latest extrication, but I also knew that I needed sleep
for tomorrow's confrontation with my hazardous task.
I called Allen at Common that morning. "We're going to solve this mystery this afternoon. Tell Jerry Blitz to leak to Shoals
that we're having a showdown with him late this afternoon".
I then locked up the case. It was quitting time when I prepared to go to manufacturing engineering.
"I take it you're going to wrap this up," Tom Ericson, a young African-American inspector said as he was watching me clean
up my bench.
"It's all over but the shouting," I agreed.
"What's all over?" Garry Gradinski, a short, young inspector asked.
"Some of you may know," Jim Lollard announce, "That George came here to find out who was stealing our plans and selling the
technology to our Japanese competitors."
"I'm happy to say that no one in this department has responsibility," I finished.
Garry's cerulean eyes lit up. "Then Paul Purge is innocent!"
"That's right," I smiled.
Garry whacked me on the left scapula. "Let's celebrate" he exclaimed to Tom.
"We haven't caught the curmudgeon yet," I rebuked. "However, should my trap work, we'll frolic tomorrow."
"May we watch?" Garry entreated.
"No, it's too dangerous, besides I'll need you two for witnesses", I explained.
"Witnesses?" Tom queried., "For what?"
"Jim and I are going to search a desk in manufacturing engineering. Then we're going to get some probably cause for an affidavit
to obtain a search warrant for this person's home. In short, we're going to nail this traitor of American technology."
"Where do we come in?" Gerry quizzed.
"You're going to watch us!"
Allen was waiting for me at the backdoor at the Common Bearing Warehouse.
"What took you so long?" he asked worriedly.
"Don't worry," I assured. "It was worth the effort. Is everything in place?"
"You saw the evidence outside. Everyone has gone save Shoals. I think he's afraid to leave."
We walked into the sales office. Shoals, a short, balding man looked turgidly up from his desk.
"Allen told me you wanted to see me."
"Yes, Mister Shoals. I finally extricated the puzzle of how your accomplice at Bradt sent the stolen plans to here.
"So, how did we," Shoals started nervously, and his voice trailed off.
"You accomplice took the plans to the ordering department and used the phone lines to transfer a copy. It was so easy that
I never thought of it until last night! Then, to keep yourself out of suspicion, you arranged for the buyer to come in the
warehouse the following day to snatch the plans
behind a certain shelf box in the warehouse."
Shoals stared at us speechlessly.
"How did you know about the box?" Allen asked.
"It's simple when one ponders the question. There was nothing missing or added. I doubted that our burglar had wanted a bearing
or something which held the plans. You see, if a bearing box held the plans, the buyer could have come in and bought it from
Shoals. Therefore, the burglar was looking for something hidden, something which would not be noticed or be sold accidentally.
Hence Shoals simply placed the plans behind a shelf box the day the buyer arrived."
"Okay," Allen followed. "Where does Monday fit in?"
"A series of errors which I unwittingly started when I solved the last case in Bristol. Garry Kraut must have told some people
that he was going to hire someone to uncover the espionage. When I accepted on Friday, the traitor found out and called Shoals
for a meeting that afternoon. That's why Shoals wasn't here on Friday afternoon. As a result, the buyer came here and could
not determine where the plans were. There are four sections of fifteen columns, each with ten shelves, and several boxes on
each shelf, an impossible task to find with ten warehouse workers in the area. My guess is that Shoals told the buyer how
to get in and where the plans were. Unfortunately for them, you guys came in early."
"Why couldn't the buyer come in later that day" Allen objected logically.
"My surmise is that the buyer need those plans on Monday and couldn't afford another tour of the warehouse. Either the buyer
or one of his men played marauder."
"I needed the money for a family operation," Shoals began. "I didn't mean to hurt Jerry or anyone!"
"Shut up, wimp!" a scowling face yelled. We pivoted to face a tall, dark, and balding man pointing a revolver at us!
"Isaac Nelson, I presume," I accosted with a simpering glance.
"Król," Nelson roared. "Because of you, I am a fugitive. I'll kill you last so you can watch these two die!"
"Give up, Nelson," I persisted. "Jim Lollard and I found incriminating sketches in your desk in front of witnesses. Furthermore,
we've gone before a neutral magistrate with an affidavit to procure a search warrant for your house and an arrest warrant
for you!"
Nelson had ardor in his eyes. "That will make killing you even more pleasurable!" He turned to Shoals. "You're first, wimp!"
Just as Nelson aimed the pistol, Rich and Brian grabbed him from behind. Allen rushed and grabbed Nelson's arm just as the
weapon discharged into the ceiling. Meanwhile, I turned off the recorder I had hidden in my breast pocket.
"It's nice to know the confession follows the Miranda guidelines," I murmured.
"My men will get you," Nelson threatened.
"No they won't," Jerry disputed. "Both Mikes and Bob have one while Tim and Tom have the other. Carl's summoning the Bensalem
police."
"In which case," Rich concluded. "This will be a pleasure."
Nelson struggled to escape from Brian and Allen, but Rich walloped him in the jaw.
"You surely take chances, George," Allen remarked.
"Nonsense -- not with you guys as allies."
"I suppose you want me to testify," Shoals interjected.
"I think by now we don't even have to ask," I replied conclusively. "Your testimony and that of an angry Sean McShane will
nail the scum for quite some time."
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