Organization of the usual kind seemed to have gone to pieces during the fake emergency.
While Helen tried to revive Benedict and Denholm tied his hands, the laser began to flash. Alan answered it. Chief Sandai looked out at him.
"You're not the only madman in the system, it seems," he said. "I thought about what you told me and thought I couldn't do any harm to assign a few men to go undercover to Mayfair and check your story. It held up. We found Bias and Junnar there. We're holding them, under the emergency laws which Simon Powys insisted we make, as suspects in an arson plot. We got one of the Sons of the Fireclown, too. But we're going to need more proof-and I'm still not convinced that your tale about Simon Powys is true!"
Alan stepped aside so Sandai could see Benedict.
"Recognize this man, Chief?"
"I've got a feeling I do, but I can't place him. Who is he?"
"He's Simon Powys' original contact with Bias. He's a mescamas. If we withhold his supply for a short time he should tell us everything he knows."
"If it's true, you've had a big stroke of luck, young man."
"It'll be the first we've had," Alan said dryly. "Can you come over and pick us up? It might be wise to have an escort."
Sandai nodded. The screen blanked.
Bias alone remained seemingly at ease. Benedict was slumped hopelessly in his chair, perhaps even enjoying the experience of defeat. Junnar had his back to them, staring out of the window over the mountains. The police prison had a wonderful view.
Bias said: "Chief Sandai, what evidence do you have for these fantastic charges?
Confront Simon Powys with them. He will laugh at you!"
Sandai turned to Denholm Curtis. "Where's Powys now? You've convinced me."
"He's at a special meeting in the Solar House. Members are asking him questions on his war policy. He's bound to answer since we still retain a vestige of democracy."
"What are you going to do, Chief?" Alan asked. "Something spectacular," Sandai said. "It's probably the only thing we can do now to break Powys' power in front of the assembly. Otherwise it may be too late."
"After what I've been through in the last day or so," Helen said grimly. "I'm beginning to doubt that anyone can topple Uncle Simon!"
Standing nobly before the mighty assembly of Solar Representatives, Simon Powys answered their questions in a grave and sonorous voice. He was the image of the visionary and man of action. The weight of responsibility seemed to rest heavily upon his broad shoulders, but he bore it manfully, not to say hypocritically.
Alan watched him on the screen outside the main entrance to the Assembly Chamber itself. He, Denholm and Helen stood in a group to one side. Chief Sandai, four policemen and the fettered trio of Junnar, Bias and the slobbering Benedict stood to the other.
They choose their moment well, when a member for Afghanistan asked Simon Powys what the police were doing in the Fireclown investigation.
Sandai pushed the button operating the double doors. The doors swept open and the party pushed forward.
"The police," Sandai called, "have caught most of the men responsible for the present situation." He gestured dramatically towards the shackled men. "Here they are- there is only one man missing P'
Alan saw that Simon Powys' face bore an expression similar to the look he'd had on the night he'd accused him.
But he held up well, Alan decided, considering everything.
"What does this interruption mean, Chief Sandai?"
Sandai spoke laconically. "Using the emergency powers vested in me by the government of the Solar System I am holding under arrest the three men you see there-Francois Bias, suspected arms dealer, Nils Benedict, a contact for the arms syndicate-and Eugene Junnar, personal assistant to Minister Simon Powys.
All the men admit to being implicated in a plot, instigated by Minister Powys, to frame the Fireclown, start a war scare by means of nuclear bomb explosions and incendiaries, and thus assure Minister Powys of full political power as President of the Solar System!"
Bias said: "He's lying, Minister Powys."
But Nils Benedict, not of Bias's caliber, continued the theme. "We didn't admit anything, sir! I haven't said a word about the deal!"
Simon Powys thundered: "Be quiet! You have abused your powers, Sandai. I demand that you leave the hall immediately!"
But the hubbub from the rest of the representatives drowned out anything else he might have wished to say.
Alan walked swiftly down to the central platform and mounted it.
"We have witnesses, now, Grandfather! We have the proof you told us to get!"
Benjosef rose from his seat.
"What's the meaning of this, Mr. Powys?"
"My grandfather, sir, has betrayed every trust you and the system have ever put in him." Briefly, Alan outlined the facts.
Benjosef turned to Simon Powys who stood rigidly, as if petrified, in his place.
"Is this true, Powys?"
"No!" Powys came alive, his face desperate-wretched. "No! Can't you see this is the work of the Fireclown's supporters, an attempt to disgrace me and confuse us in our hour of peril? My grandson is lying!*'
But Simon Powys had lost all self-control. His wild denial had convinced the assembly of his guilt. He knew it. He stared around him, his breathing irregular, his eyes wide. He advanced toward Benjosef.
"I run the Solar System now, Benjosef-not you! You can't do anything. The people are with me!"
"Possibly," Benjosef said mildly, with a slight air of triumph, "but evidently this assembly is not." Benjosef seemed pleased at his would-be successor's downfall. "I was aware, Minister, that you wished to oust me as President- but I did not expect you to take quite so much trouble." He gestured to the police chief. "Sandai-I'm afraid you had better arrest Minister Powys."
Simon Powys leapt from the dais, stumbled and fell. He got up, evidently in pain, and stood there panting as Sandai stepped cautiously towards him.
"You fool! I could have made the world a better place. I knew it was going soft.
I could have stopped the rot! You are under my orders, Sandai-don't listen to Benjosef."
Sandai slipped a pair of electrogyves from his belt.
"No!" Simon Powys was sobbing now. "The Fireclown will destroy us! He will destroy you all-as he destroyed my daughter!"
Alan looked up in surprise. So his grandfather had known all along that the Fireclown was his father! That explained, even further, his insensate hatred of the Fireclown.
He went up to the old man, pitying him now.
"Grandfather, I know you have suffered, but…"
Old Simon Powys turned his great head and looked into Alan's eyes. His expression was that of a bewildered, tearful child.
"It was for her sake," he said brokenly. "For hers and yours, Alan."
The gyves hummed and curled about Powys' wrists. His head bowed, his seamed face now tear-streaked, he allowed Sandai to lead him out of the assembly hall.
Benjosef stepped from the platform and touched Alan's arm. "I’m sorry you had to do what you did, my boy. I must admit I never liked your grandfather-always thought him, well, somewhat weak, I suppose. That was why I, and many members of the party, never promoted him to a more prominent position; why he had never, until now, been nominated as a Presidential candidate. Evidently I was right, at least." He turned to Helen Curtis. "The world is going to be grateful to you both, I suspect. The climate of opinion is going to take yet another reversal before the elections are finally held. I hope you make a good President, Miss Curtis."
"Thank you, sir," said Helen, looking worriedly at Alan.
Alan ran a hand across his face. He swallowed with difficulty and glowered at the ground. Then he shook Benjosef s hand off his arm.
"I'm glad you're all proved right," he said bitterly. "I'm bloody glad about the happy ending."