Manly Wade Wellman - Chapbook 02 by Devil's Planet (v1.1) Page B

without asking permission.”
                 “Gerda
said it was all right, that you were expecting me,” explained Crofts, “and keep
your hands to yourself. I’m not so sure you could knock my teeth anywhere.”
                 “Gentlemen,”
interposed Buckalew smoothly, “you’re clouding some rather important issues
with these personalities. Dillon, I venture to say that one of these visitors,
and perhaps both, thought to find us dead.”
                CROFTS’S
white anger turned to white panic. “Dead?” he repeated. “You think we were
going to kill you?”
                 “He’s
putting on an act,” accused Gerda, and Buckalew waved \'7bor her to keep quiet.
                 Stover
had cooled down a trifle, telling himself that the
mere mention of rivalry over Bee MacGowan must not be enough to drive him so
crazy with wrath. He saw that Crofts wore a bracelet like his. This man, too,
would be kept in Pulambar by Congreve for possible further investigation. Let
him go, decided Stover, and keep an eye on him.
                 “Get
out,” he told Crofts.
                 The
other went to the door, then paused. His eyes gleamed
like furnaces. “You’re on your own ash-heap,” he said. “Some time we’ll get
together on equal ground.”
                 “Out,”
bade Stover, “or I'll drop you clear down to the canal level.”
                 Crofts was gone, and Stover walked back to where Gerda sat.
                 “Buckalew
tells tht truth. You thought we’d be
dead. Why did you come here with Crofts?”
                 “Because
I was paid to,” she told him with cheerful irony.
                 “You
mean,” prompted Stover, “that you were bringing him here so that he could be
framed with the crime?”
                 “Or,”
put in Buckalew, “that he was the one who paid you, and you both came to make
sure we were dead?”
                 “That
would be telling,” Gerda replied to both questions. “Mr. Stover already knows
that I’m working for that mysterious blast-killer. I won't deny it. But I'll
deny other things. I’m a good servant.” She gazed from one to the other of
them. “And those hard looks won’t get you anywhere, either. I know that Mr.
Stover won’t hurt me physically, and that he wouldn’t let Mr. Buckalew try.”
                 Stover
walked to a closet and opened it. There was barely room inside for a person to
stand comfortably. “We’ll lock you up for long enough to think it over,” he
said.
                 With
a disdainful smile the girl sauntered across and into the narrow prison. When
he had latched the door, Stover looked at Buckalew, who had followed him.
                 “Well,
Dillon?” prompted Buckalew in a clear, carrying voice. “You realize that there
is no ventilation in that closet?”
                 There
was plenty of ventilation, but Stover took the cue.
                 “Of
course not,” he agreed. “I count on that to change her mind. She’ll start to
smother, and then she’ll talk.”
                 Gerda
said something profane from inside the closet.
                 “What
if she lies?” asked Buckalew.
                 “We’ll
shut her up again,” said Stover.
                 “Watch
here,” suggested Buckalew. “I’ll make a tour of the rear rooms. We don’t know
yet what damage has been done there.”
                 Stover
nodded agreement, and sat down in the chair facing the closet door.
                He had not long to wait. Gerda began
to pound on the inside of the metal panel.
                 “Well?”
said Stover.
                 “Let
me out,” she pleaded in a tense, muffled voice.
                 “Ready
to tell us what you know?”