by Henry Hasse
Iunderstand that sort of thing used to be pretty prevalent."
Beardsley snorted, as if that were beneath comment, and closed theoffice door behind them. Mandleco hit him with a cagey glance. "TheLogicals and the Primes, eh? I suppose you know that I happen to be oneof those Primes."
Beardsley looked straight at him. "Yes, I'm aware of it. My own approachwill be individualistic, of course, but I promise you won't beover-looked!"
* * * * *
It might have been fatal--but Beardsley had judged his man well.Mandleco took it as a challenge. He was silent as he approached thetele-stat, and he no longer seemed amused.
He put through the directive to have Mrs. Sheila Carmack and Mr. BrookPederson brought in. "As my guests, that is," Mandleco told hisoperative. "_Be sure they understand that._ They are to be brought toCrime-Central, Mechanical Division, at once ... yes, I said MechanicalDivision! At once means _now_."
Beardsley nodded approval. "And now Professor Losch, please?"
Without a waste of motion, Mandleco put through to Bermuda on prioritybeam. While they waited he gave Beardsley a look of puzzlement and newrespect. "Ah--I'm not implying that it's against protocol, of course,but I assume you've already made some investigation along lines of yourown?"
"Superficial only," Beardsley said.
"I see. Well then, would you mind giving me some ... you know, just anidea of how you plan to proceed?"
Beardsley said bluntly: "Yes, I would mind."
"Oh." Mandleco frowned and persisted. "Psychologic deduction. Wasn'tthat your _forte_? I seem to recall--"
Beardsley grunted. "I'll tell you this much, there are implicationsabout this case that fascinate me!"
"Oh?" Mandleco found himself a chair, sat upon it and edged forward. "Idon't just quite--"
"Look. To begin with, the case is unique; so much so that your entirestructure of approach is wrong. I mean top-heavy! Top-heavy withgadgetry and assumption."
"Assumption?" Mandleco bristled a little. "You of all people should knowbetter. Not _once_ in the past dozen years has ECAIAC failed to arriveat a conclusive and pin-point solution based on correlative factors!"
Beardsley smiled thinly. "Ah, yes. But we were speaking of the _Carmack_case. I repeat, it's not only unique but untenable; it became untenablethe moment you assigned ECAIAC the task of solving the murder of its owncreator! That," he said grimly, "is a mistake we wouldn't have made evenin '60...."
* * * * *
Mandleco thought that over, shook his head and frowned. It was obvioushe missed the connotation. "So?" he urged.
"So look at the murder itself. The _pattern_. You'll admit it does seemodd and misplaced for these times--or hadn't you noticed?" Beardsleyleaned forward sharply. "But it strikes a familiar note with me!Absolutely nothing in the way of material clues; not even the weapon;and the _modus operandi_ is one I haven't seen employed in years, theold idea of the most direct and simple murder being the safest!"
"I--I guess I just don't follow you."
"I mean the _way_ Carmack was struck down. Nothing cute and fancy, nofrills or improvisation--just the proverbial blunt instrument, afterwhich the killer simply walked out of there. Believe me, I know aboutthese things. The very simplicity is the killer's protection. You canbet no trace will ever be found of that blunt instrument, and naturallyhe left no evidence coming or going. But then," Beardsley saidobliquely, "your so-called 'Survey' men made a horrible botch of thescene. In '60 we'd have sent them back to patrolling the freeways!"
Mandleco started to protest, then closed his mouth quickly. "I see, Isee."
"I can understand," Beardsley murmured, "how emphasis on basicgroundwork has become minimized. So much reliance on Indexes andthalamic-imbalance and chart-sifts! It was only a matter of time until acriminal, a really _clever_ one, saw through the system--and reverted."His fingers drummed the chair arm, then he looked up sharply. "And yetof all places, I'd say that Carmack's estate was _least_ ideallysituated for this type of murder; you know what I mean? You've beenthere?"
"Well, I--there have been occasions. Yes."
Beardsley nodded. "I refer to Carmack's elaborate system againstinvasion of his privacy. To put it bluntly, he had enemies, and hisestate was designed as a refuge against those enemies; electronicbarriers pitched at ultra-frequency to respond only to certain neuralvibrations. Must have taken years of research to come up with that!"
Mandleco shifted impatiently. "Of course, but look here, Beardsley--"
"So it leaves me right where I started, doesn't it? And yet I know this:it was no _emotional_ killing. It was all coldly planned. The killer wassomeone Carmack trusted enough to have in his home; they were probablyhaving a quiet little chat together. And then precisely--on apredetermined minute--the killer rose from his chair and struck."
Mandleco lifted his heavy hands and then, as if conscious of them, letthem fall limply across the desk. "But--come now, Beardsley! Psychologicdeduction is all very well, but how can you possibly know that?"
Beardsley gazed calmly at the Minister of Justice. For a moment he saidnothing. Mandleco seemed more alert than startled, more annoyed thaneither.
"That," said Beardsley softly, "I am not prepared to tell you."
Mandleco seemed about to pursue the point, but there came aninterruption. Both men turned abruptly as the stat-screen gave itswarning blip.
"Code C-C-Five!" came the remote voice. "Bermuda to Washington,Priority. This is Priority. C-C-Five ... your party is ready now, sir!"
* * * * *
It was a pool-side scene, with hotel and tropical palms against anunbelievable blue sky. Professor Emil Losch loomed on the screen; he wasin swimming trunks, a small gray man who seemed hard as nails, his leantanned body belying his years.
"Hello?" Losch peered sharply and then pulled away, almost upsetting anexpensive decanter of liquor on the table beside him. He seemed toblanch as he recognized the Minister of Justice. "Mandleco!"
The latter raised a hand in greeting. "Don't be alarmed, Professor, thisis not official. Just a social call."
"I want to correct that," Beardsley said bluntly as he thrust himselfinto range. "Professor Losch, this _is_ official; furthermore, I wish toadvise you that this stat is monitor-taped for both vis and audio, andthe resulting record is therefore admissible in any Court of Law. Beingso advised, is there any objection on your part to answering a briefseries of questions pertaining to the Carmack Case? I have been dulyauthorized by George Mandleco, Minister of Justice," he added for therecord.
Losch glanced bewilderedly from Beardsley to Mandleco, and seemed totake courage from the latter.
"Objection?" he said. "This is a bit unusual, but ... of course, I haveno objection."
"Very well. I shall make a series of statements, and give youopportunity to refute them either in part or _in toto_. Professor Losch,some years ago you were engaged privately, in magnetronic cyberneticresearch along similar lines to those later developed by Amos Carmack.Shortly thereafter you claimed that Carmack had thwarted you,out-maneuvered you, _out-stolen_ you at every turn; I believe those arepretty much your own words, as revealed by court records--"
"Correct! I repeat them now!"
"You filed against him, and litigation dragged through the courts forseveral years before Carmack finally won out. Shortly thereafter youdisappeared; I believe you took up residence in Europe. About a year agoyou returned, and was hired as Research Consultant in the laboratoriesof the Carmack Foundation. This is true?"
* * * * *
For a moment Losch avoided looking at the screen. It was obvious he wasconsidering his answer carefully.
"It's true," he said.
Beardsley said quickly, "It is my understanding that Mr. Mandlecointerceded with Carmack on your behalf--"
"I protest the last statement!" Losch's words exploded from the screen."There was no intercession by anyone!" His head l
ifted defiantly. "Yes,I came back. I don't mind admitting I came crawling back. Carmackoffered me the position and I accepted!"
"Quite so. And he offered you a hundred thousand a year, didn't he?Twice the salary of any other top man?"
"You think that's out of line," Losch bristled, "but he must havethought I was worth it--I think you know why! He owed me ten times asmuch!"
"You must have really hated Carmack," murmured Beardsley.
Mandleco thrust forward angrily, gesturing. "Losch, let me