Clay grinned and nodded. “You don't know the half of it, partner. Kreuder’s pretty direct by comparison. Shh, he's starting up again; you can never tell when he’ll come to something important.”
"In addition,” Kreuder announced, “I have the authority to investigate and report to Mars my findings on any 'irregularity' where ..." He was off again, and Peter began to notice that the seats weren't too comfortable. They'd never seemed that way when he was playing music. " . . when Central has not taken care of it, or seems unable to do anything about it. In such instances I can . . (After a few years of explanation, Peter thought.) “ . . enlist as many persons as I need to help me, as special deputies. All such aides are officially working for Mars, and are under Mars’ protection—something different from Ama protection, I assure you. At the present time I have a number of such assistants. They have been gathering evidence of just the sort of skullduggery that you are here to fight. We have a list—a growing list—of examples, and we are building up proof.” Clay raised his hand. “What is the Claims Offices position on the Martian Patrol?”
“We co-operate, but we don't take orders from it, unless I’m told by Mars. I’ve had no instructions, so I can use my own discretion, and the Patrol will take orders from me in certain circumstances. I can’t be any more definite than that right now.” "That’s good enough for right now,” Tom Honoye said.
Peter asked, “But isn't the Patrol backing up Ama?” “To a certain extent; however . . . shall I say that Mr. Webster doesn’t have unlimited credit? The Patrol is here to investigate an emergency/ Ama has to satisfy the Patrol that the emergency exists, and that the measures it wants enforced are necessary.” “What about that cordon Webster was talking about?”
Kreuder smiled wanly. “It exists; Mars is satisfied that something is definitely wrong here. So far as Mars is concerned, Ama represents a real need. But, gentlemen—and it’s a rather large cbut’—Mars doesn’t mind playing ‘Old Caution/ either. Ceres is a long way off, and the Martian Council is quite aware that someone might try to misuse the Patrol for personal advantage.
"The fact is—Mars is suspicious. Not long ago there were serious irregularities in the Claims Office itself. A great deal was discovered about what was going on. But we're not satisfied as to the why, or as to who benefited. Ama has made a big to-do about it, but hasn't been able, so far, to give us any satisfactory answers to the questions we've asked.”
Peter got up, "But—but you do have proof of some things, don't you?”
"We have enough to take action on our own. I came here to accomplish two things: to reorganize the Claims Office and discover just what had been going on—to trace the loose ends. It was obvious to all of us on Mars that some sort of organization was behind the skullduggery. We realized that there were at least three possibilities: (1) that Ama was actually an organization of thieves masquerading as a beneficial society; (2) that Ama was honest, but is being, or has been corrupted, with or without full knowledge of its director; (3) that a crooked organization exists outside of Ama, but is working with persons inside the Asteroid Miners' Association.”
Kreuder went on to explain that he had to work in the dark, at first, and had to be cautious. He could get evidence only if none of the suspected parties knew he was after it. He had to pretend to be much too busy to do any real looking around himself, and unable to do much of anything except tell miners there wasn't any real evidence.
"Had I told any of you what I knew,” he said, "you might have taken a firmer attitude, which would have been a giveaway to the thieves. They’d have known that we were on to them.” He looked at the dark-haired woman. "You, Miss Bjomsen, signed a transfer of filing at a price that seemed quite reasonable. I couldn’t have done any better for you at the time, but I can tell you now that the matter isn’t ended.”
"But now . . , you have something on Ama?” she asked.
“I have evidence which might be traced to Ama— which I’m sure will be traced to someone in Ama, at any rate. The Asteroid Miners’ Association could fill a very genuine need, if it were rim correctly. As things stand, we have to fight it. But it may not be necessary to destroy Ama completely. That remains to be seen.” “What about defective finder units?” Pete asked.
“I have delivered evidence to Mars that finder and marker units were not always tested before being given to miners, nor were they given full instruction on operation. ... I haven’t any evidence on your particular case, Mr. Clay., . . And I also found that a great deal of ‘current’ information was not published in the regular reports of the Claims Office, although such information apparently was given out to certain parties. Also, the Claims Office delayed making requests for certification of filings that were disputed.” Tom Honoye stood up, shaking his head. “This is as bad as any of us dreamed in our worst suspicions. And you say you have no clue as to who benefited?” “I have found a large number of facts which point very definitely to one particular party. This man was on Public Duty about a year ago, working for grubstake credits. Now, within the past six months, he has filed claims or transfer claims on nearly a dozen rich mines. He was a partner in Belt Insurance, but sold out before Ama started to take steps against the company. He also draws royalties from the sales of an improved-type fuel container and supervises their manufacture. He is a member of Ama and does a great deal of work for the organization, although he isn't listed as an official. I refer to Joseph Vincennes.” Peter called for recognition over the clamor that followed, and told them of his experience at Ama headquarters. “That ought to tie Ama directly into the skullduggery,” he concluded.
“Ben,” came a voice from a side door. All looked up as a man stepped inside. “Get ready to start playing. I'll let you know when.”
“What’s up?”
“Martian Patrol unit coming down the street. Looks like they’re heading for this building, and you can guess what they’ll be after!”
Chapter 12 Tactics
Kreuder raised his hand in the well-known, cautious gesture as murmurings broke out again. Someone said, “Let's arrest that crook!"
“Easy, friends,” he said. “There is quite a bit of evidence pointing to Vincennes, but he is only one person. To strike at him now would merely warn the rest and give them a chance to cover up.”
“But Vincennes is a murderer!” burst out Peg Bjomsen. “At least, he's responsible for miners who were killed when defective fuel containers exploded. You can prove his responsibility, cant you?”
“Ben,” called out Honoye, “what about the Patrol?” “We’ll be warned as soon as they enter the building,” Black replied. “At that point we start the performance,”
“To answer your question, Miss Bjomsen,” Kreuder stated, “Vincennes can be held responsible to a certain extent. At Ama’s insistence he set up individual testing of fuel containers at the plant. But so far as I know, the containers still in stock at the Supply Department were not taken back. The old stock continued to be sold to miners for some time after these accidents were common knowledge.”
“What about Vincennes himself?” Peter asked. “He claims that he, too, had an accident.”
Honoye now arose. “That seems to be sound. I saw his ship at the repair center, and they told me there what happened.”
“Just one more thing, Mr. Kreuder" said Black. “What is Mars' attitude on an organization like Ama? What are the standards?”
“Well, first of all, membership has to be voluntary; no one can be forced to join. No one can be penalized for withdrawing membership. Second, the members must have a voice in the selection of officials, and in policy decisions. Third, members must have the right to decline the kind of ‘protection’ Ama offers when filings are contested. And, of course, the organization must live up to its policy of benefits, and so forth.
“We suspect that some memberships have been obtained through force and fraud. We suspect that some members have been forced to accept ‘protection’ over their claims."
Ala
n Clay got up. “Ben, if no one objects, I’d like to suggest that we adopt a policy of our own. We’ll agree to co-operate in resisting Ama. We won’t start anything unless we’re attacked or are definitely about to be attacked.”
“What do you think, Kreuder?” asked Abend.
“It sounds like a sensible policy. You won’t accept Ama authority—either to patrol or examine your claims, and so forth. You won’t call on the Miners’
Guard for assistance. . . . Yes, I think you have the right idea."
Ben Black looked around. “If there are no objections . . he brought his baton down on his stand, “. . . we have our policy. We’ve already agreed that Mr. Gideon will act as general director of this group for the time being.”
“Ben!” the voice from the side door came again, “time to start rehearsal. The Patrol has entered the building.”
Black rapped again. “Meeting hereby recessed. Take up your instruments, ladies and gentlemen. You, too, Karkannian; no need for a watch at the door now.” He looked at the group, then at the music. “Since we have two clarinets and no bassoon, we’ll use the first alternative score. Turn to Section 7, please.”
As with most compositions for chamber orchestra, Honoye’s Concerto Grosso was published in an edition that included several alternate orchestral scorings, particularly among the wind parts. Peter was familiar with his part in the “original” version, but had to keep a careful eye on the music now.
Ben Black rapped the music stand on the podium, went into his downbeat and the first and second clarinets started a dialogue. Then the string trio joined in. The Patrol would enter in a few minutes. By that time they would have gone far enough so that an outsider would have no idea as to how long they’d been playing.
Peter had forgotten the expected interruption and looked up, puzzled at the conductor’s double-rap for a halt. Had he made a boner? He hadn’t heard anything that sounded wrong.
Several patrolmen confronted Black, looking around the assembly in half-apologetic manner. “I wish we weren't here on business,” the leader said. “I never heard this work before, and it sounds rather good ” “What can we do for you?” Ben asked calmly. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take away one of your players. A miner by the name of Glen Abend has been reported killed. We’ve been alerted to look out for a man who's been fingered for questioning.”
“And what makes you think you will find the man you want here?”
“We were tipped off that he might be here.” The patrol leader looked around the assembly, stopping as his eyes rested on Abend. “May I ask your name, sir?”
Abend put down his viola. “Melvin Gideon.”
The Patrol leader touched his cap. “Lieutenant Iantosca of the Martian Patrol. I must ask you to come with us on temporary detention, Mr. Gideon.” “May I ask the name of my accuser?”
Iantosca nodded. “You have the right, sir, but I am unable to tell you now. I don't know myself. The order came through Central, and does not list any accuser. You see, you have not been charged with any crime and will not be booked as being under arrest.” “May I ask, Lieutenant, if your orders came through the Asteroid Miners’ Association?” Black said.
“I've already told you that Central . . r began Iantosca. He paused as Kreuder stood up.
“No one is doubting you, Lieutenant. May I see your writ?”
“Certainly. You may see it, as well, Mr. Gideon. As far as I am concerned, you may read it aloud.”
Kreuder took the sheet and scanned it. “Hm-m-m. I see. These things usually read, ‘At the request of blank, Ceres Central authorizes the temporary detention of blank.' The opening line has been taken out, I see, but the order is sealed properly.”
“That happens now and then, Mr. Kreuder. Since there is no formal charge and no arrest, it isn’t needed.”
Peter listened with a sinking feeling. Ama was acting with its usual caution in observing the letter of the law. Glen couldn’t be held long under these conditions, nor would he be booked as a prisoner. But he could be detained where the law would have him if anyone could work out a formal charge during the time limit. The idea behind “temporary detention” was to protect citizens from irresponsible accusation and hasty charges. It put an extra burden of proof upon the accuser. There was no disgrace connected with “temporary detention.”
He couldn’t let Glen be taken; that would only be the prelude to more skullduggery. He noticed that Iantosca was looking at Kreuder, and the latter was blinking something. The Patrolman nodded first, then shook his head. He turned to Abend. “Will you please come with us, sir?”
Glen was casually picking up his music to stow the thin plastic sheets away into his case. Peter went over to him and bent down as if to assist. Iantosca was talking to Black in low tones. The other Patrolmen didn’t seem to be watching too closely. He and Abend were right in front of the sliding panel that led to the prompter’s box and out its far end backstage. He slid his shoe onto Abend’s and tapped, “Duck in when I break.” There wasn’t time to explain what he intended to do, but Pete knew Glen would be ready.
Abend continued to go through the music sheets, rearranging them and slipping a sheet or two at a time into the pocket of his viola case. He peered at them closely now and then. Peter took out the key to his violin case, then reached up and grasped the music stand, as if to move it down so that the light would be better. As he started to slide the tubing, he pulled out one of the small bulbs and pressed the metal key into the empty socket. He felt a tingling shock run up his arm; then all the lights in the hall went out abruptly.
He’d measured the distance between himself and Iantosca carefully. Now he moved swiftly and grasped the man, lifting him off the floor, then pushing him into the air. His own feet were squarely planted, and his knees bent; as the lieutenant started into the air, the reaction of the thrust pushed Peter backward.
The general outcry around him indicated that the others were doing the same. An instant later, hand-flashes cut into the darkened hall from various parts of the air. Peter called out, “Dad,” and felt Clay’s hand clasp him as they started for an exit.
Before they had gone many steps, lights came on again. Automatic relays had cut off the flow of current into the damaged music stand, and resumed service on all other lights in the hall. Pete looked around. Abend was nowhere in sight. The others were waving to the frustrated patrolmen as they reached the top of their flight-curves and started down toward the floor. All would be out of the room before any of the patrolmen had landed.
“Clever work, fellow,” Iantosca called down, “but you haven’t helped your friend.”
“Well see about that,” Pete replied, closing the door and locking it. He turned to face the disgruntled-looking Kreuder.
“Didn’t you see what I was telling Iantosca?” asked the Claims official. “We were arranging to let Glen get away from him quietly. But you’ve ruined that now. Iantosca's men saw Glens escape and the lieutenant’s on the spot. He has to capture Gideon!”
Barbara Abend was the one person in the little group assembled at Glen’s apartment who didn’t seem to share the general feeling of gloom. Everyone in the Gideon party knew about Abend’s position. There was a sparkle in her brown eyes and a roguish grin on her face as she slapped Peter’s back and said, “So we pull a boner, eh? So finally one of us does something, after all this time we’ve been mooning around trying to figure out something to do, and we find we shouldn’t have done it.”
“Not we—me!” Peter muttered. “I did it on my own. Now we’re all stuck in the rocket tubes, waiting for someone in the control room to fire a blast.”
Clay laughed. “Right or wrong, partner, you struck a blow for morale. Wouldn’t be a bit surprised if someone else didn’t try something if you hadn’t beat them to it. They sure acted as smooth as if it had been rehearsed.”
“Morale it is, yes,” Barbara agreed. “Better a little mistake than sitting around making no errors. When a player swings and misses, so
that is too bad; but he should be caught looking at the third strike, he’s a bum!”
“That is so,” admitted Abend. “Yes, even a mistake can be worth the boost it gives, but now you see we have to have an overall strategy decided on first. The theory of individual heroics . . ”
“Darling, you will please to shut up. Save it for the book you will write later. Explain to me in a few thousand words what difference it makes whether you got away from the Patrol now or later, since you were going to get away . . . No, never mind; I feel a headache coming on.” The door buzzed, and she went to admit Kreuder. “Besides, Lon can tell us all about it, can’t you, Mr. Kreuder? Before my darling husband, such a sensitive genius, the dope, decides to end it all from misery, you will assist in making with plans?”
Kreuder smiled and shook his finger at Peter. “Next time you’ll know better. All right—one mistake doesn’t prove a man a fool; so long as you don’t repeat on it.” He looked around the room. “As a matter of fact, the young man may have done better than he thought. I’ve talked with Iantosca. He has to make a thorough search for Gideon, so I made a number of suggestions. He’s informed Central and Ama that he’s on the track, and the Martian Patrol is now combing through the asteroids where persons at that meeting have claims. I was most helpful with directions—all except 20-47, that is. Obviously, Gideon wouldn’t hide out there. But he might be on any of the others. That saves Iantosca’s face, and keeps the Patrol so busy they can’t give Ama any help.”
“I don’t get it,” Peter said. “Didn’t you tell them that Glen was your aide?”
Kreuder shook his head. “Not yet. I advised Iantosca, just before you moved, that Gideon be permitted to escape quietly, so that he could lead us to the others. There was more than one person involved in Abend’s murder, you know.” He turned to Glen. “There’s no doubt that Vincennes is crooked, but were not sure he’s the head man. There are three possibilities: (1) Vincennes is carrying out the actual policy of Ama; (2) Vincennes is trying to get control of Ama; (3) he’s working for someone outside the organization.”
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