It opened only an inch or two. Cautiously Qwilleran increased the opening enough to see what was inside. His lips formed a silent exclamation. For a moment he was transfixed. He felt a prickle in his blood, and he forgot to listen for footsteps. Koko's ears were pivoting in alarm.
Tennis shoes were coming noiselessly down the corridor, but Qwilleran didn't hear. He didn't see Tait enter the room… stop abruptly… move swiftly. He heard only the piercing soprano scream, and then it was too late.
The scene blurred in front of his eyes. But he saw the spike. He heard the snarls and bloodchilling shrieks. There was a shock of white lightning. The lamp crashed. In the darkness he saw the uplifted spike… saw the spiraling white blur… felt the tug at his hand… heard the great wrenching thud… felt the sharp pain… felt the trickle of blood… and heard a sound like escaping steam. Then all else was still.
Qwilleran leaned against the armoire and looked down. Blood was dripping from his fingertips. The leash was cutting into his other palm, and twelve feet of nylon cord were wound tightly around the legs of G. Verning Tait, who lay gasping on the floor. Koko, anchored at the other end of the leash, was squirming to slip out of his harness. The room was silent except for the hard breathing of the prisoner and the hissing of a female cat on top of the Biedermeier armoire.
24
The nurse in the First Aid room at the Fluxion bandaged the slash on Qwilleran's hand.
"I'm afraid you'll live," she said cheerfully. "It's only a scratch." "It bled a lot," he said. "That spike was razor-sharp and a foot long! It was actually a jade har poon used for spearing walrus in the Arctic." "How appropriate — under the circumstances," said the nurse with an affectionate side-glance at Qwilleran's moustache.
"Lucky I didn't get it in the stomach!" "The wound looks clean," said the nurse, "but if it gives you any trouble, see a doctor." "You can skip the commercial," Qwilleran said. "I know it by heart." She patted the final strip of adhesive tape, and admired her handiwork.
The nurse had made a good show of the bandage. It did nothing for Qwilleran's typing efficiency, but it enhanced his story when he faced his audience at the Press Club that evening. An unusually large number of Fluxion staffers developed a thirst at five thirty, and the crowd formed around Qwilleran at the bar. His published account had appeared in the afternoon edition, but his fellow staffers knew that the best details of any story never get into print.
Qwilleran said, with barely suppressed pride: "It was Koko who alerted me to the hoax. He licked one of Bunsen's photos and drew attention to the secret compartment." "I used sidelighting," Bunsen explained. "I put a light to the left of the camera at a ninety-degree angle, and it showed up the tiny crack. The camera caught it, but the eye would never know it was there." "When I discovered the swing-out compartment packed full of jade," said Qwilleran, "I was so fascinated that I didn't hear Tait coming. First thing I knew, a cat shrieked, and there was that guy coming at me with an Eskimo harpoon, a spike this long!" He measured an exaggerated twelve inches with his hands. "Koko was snarling. The other cat was flying around, screaming. And there was that maniac, coming at me with a spike! Everything went out of focus. Then — crash!
Tait fell flat on his face." Qwilleran displayed his bandaged hand. "He must have hurled the spike as he fell." Arch Riker said, "Tell them how your cat tripped him up." Qwilleran took time to light his pipe, while his audience waited for the inside story: "Koko was on a long leash, and he flew around in circles so fast — all I could see was a smoke ring in midair. And when Tait crashed to the floor, his legs were neatly trussed up in twelve feet of cord." "Crazy!" said the photographer. "Wish I'd been there with a movie camera." "I picked up the jade spike and kept Tait down on the floor while I called the police on that gold-plated French phone." "When you go, you go first class," Bunsen said. Then Lodge Kendall arrived from Headquarters. "Qwill was right all along," he told everyone. "The houseboy was innocent. Tait has told the police that he staked Paolo to a one-way fare to Mexico, then transferred the jade to the wardrobe cabinet and threw one piece behind Paolo's bed. And you remember the missing luggage? He'd given it to the boy himself." "Was it the insurance money he was after?" "Chiefly. Tait wasn't an astute businessman.
He'd lost the family fortune, and he needed a large sum of cash to invest in another harebrained scheme…. But there was something else, too. He hates the Fluxion. Ever since they played up his role in a paternity case." "I'd like to know why he didn't settle that claim out of court," Qwilleran said.
"He tried, but he was up against dirty politics, he claims. It seems there was another Tait, a cousin of George Verning, who was running for Congress that year, and the paternity claim was timed accordingly. Somebody figured the voters wouldn't know one Tait from another, and apparently it was true. The guy lost the election." Qwilleran said, "Did Tait tell the police anything about his proposed trip to Denmark?" "Nobody mentioned it at Headquarters." "Well," said Riker, "I'll tune in tomorrow for the next installment. I'm going home to dinner." "I'm going home to feed Koko a filet mignon," said Qwilleran. "After all, he saved my neck." "Don't kid yourself," Bunsen said. "He was chasing that female cat." "I dropped her off at the pet hospital," Qwilleran said. "She had an infected wound in her side. That guy probably gave her a kick when he threw her out." Qwilleran had floated high on excitement all. afternoon, but when he arrived home he succumbed to exhaustion.
Koko reacted the same way. The cat lay on his side, legs stiffly extended, one ear bent under his head — to all appearances a dead cat except for a thoughtful look in half-open eyes. He ignored his dinner. Qwilleran went to bed early, and his dreams were pertinent and convincing. He dreamed that Percy was saying, "Qwill, you and Koko have done such a good job on the Tait case, we want you to find David Lyke's murderer," and Qwilleran said, "The investigation may take us to Japan, Chief," and Percy said, "Go right ahead! You can have an unlimited expense account." Qwilleran's moustache twitched in his sleep. So did the cat's whiskers. Koko was dreaming, too.
Early Saturday morning, while Qwilleran was snoring gently and his subconscious was wrestling with the Lyke mystery, the telephone began ringing insistently. When it succeeded in shaking him awake, he reached groggily toward the bedside table, found the receiver, and heard the operator say: "This is Aarhus, Denmark. I have a call for Mr. James Qwilleran." "Speaking," Qwilleran croaked in his early- morning voice.
"Qwill, this is Harry," came a transatlantic shout. "We just heard the news!" "You did? In Denmark?" "It came over the radio." "It's a big shame. He was a nice guy." "I don't know about him," said Noyton. "I only knew her. He must have cracked up." "Who cracked up?" "What's the matter? Aren't you awake yet?" "I'm awake," said Qwilleran. "What are you talking about?" "Is this Qwill? This is Qwilleran, isn't it?" "I think so. I'm a little groggy. Are you talking about the murder?" "Murder!" shouted Noyton.
"What murder?" Qwilleran paused. "Aren't you talking about David Lyke?" "I'm talking about G. Verning Tait! What's happened to David?" "He's dead. He was shot last Monday night." "David dead! My God! Who did it?" "They don't know. It happened in his apartment. In the middle of the evening." "Somebody break in?" "It doesn't appear so." "Why would anyone want to kill David? He was a fantastic guy!" "What was it you heard on the radio over there?" Qwilleran asked.
"About Tait's arrest. Mrs. Tait's family couldn't believe it when they heard the news." Qwilleran sat up straight. "You know her family?" "Just met them. Fine people. Her brother's working with me on the hush-hush deal I told you about. Don't forget: I promised you the Fluxion will get the scoop!" "What's the nature of it?" "I'm financing a fantastic manufacturing process. Qwill, I'm going to be the richest man in the world!" "Is it a new invention?" "A scientific discovery," Noyton said. "While he rest of the world is fooling around with outer space, the Danes are doing something for man-kind here and now." "Sounds great!" "Until I got over here, I didn't know what it was all about. I just took her word that it was something world-shaking." "Whose word?" "Mrs. Tait's." "She tipped you off to her brother's discovery?" "Well, you see, Dr. Thorvaldson needed financing, and she knew her husband couldn't swing it. She'd heard about me and thought I could handle it. Of course, she wanted a kickback — under the able, so to speak." Noyton paused.