Jim said, his voice friendly, “We’re going some place where we can bounce you around a little more, Golden Boy There’s a lot of talking that has to be done.”
“I won’t stand for this,” Kneedler blurted. “In the data banks is the information that on your Identity Card this vehicle was rented and went from the building in which you reside to that house in the off-skirts. I don’t know what went on there, but I am convinced that criminal action took place. You will be apprehended.”
“Three bits of criminal action took place,” Bert put in flatly. “There are three dead men in that house.”
Jill flinched.
But Jim said cheerfully, “And that’s why we’re going to have to find out what’s going on, Golden Boy.”
“You’ll get nothing more from me!”
Jim said, wonderingly, “What is it about being a professor that doesn’t require brains? You didn’t seem to bother to listen to Bert telling how you acquire a handle like Killer Caine. Four men are dead in the fun and games we’ve been having these past few hours, Professor. Do you think one more makes any difference to us? We’ve got to get out from under, whatever way we can. You’re a witness, right? Maybe it’ll turn out we can’t afford a witness. You never know.”
The assistant professor seemed to shrink down into his clothes and some of his newly regained courage disappeared.
Jill said, “I can’t allow this.”
Bert said, “Take it easy, Jill. We’ve got to find out what’s going on.”
“Miss Masterson,” she said.
Bert looked at her emptily. “I went into that place to rescue you, Miss Masterson, not to have the fun of exposing myself to three trigger-happy lads. In my time I’ve run into men who get their jollies out of killing. Most of them passed from the scene fairly quickly. I am still alive.”
“I am sure that all your motivations are not altruistic, Killer Cain.”
He was bitter. “I can’t even figure out what my motivations are,” he said. “I haven’t got the vaguest idea of what’s going on. I haven’t the vaguest idea of why those men grabbed you.”
“Through my own silliness.”
Jim said, “Here we are,” as they emerged into the metro beneath the Administration Building.
When they had stopped, Bert said flatly, “We’re going up to my suite to have a talk. As Jim pointed out, he and I are in the soup, and not through our own desire. The only way we can get out, if we can, is through cooperation with you two. Neither of us are particularly noble, we wouldn’t be alive today if we were. So we go up to my suite and talk a bit. If you object, Professor Kneedler?”
“I’ll go with you. I realize that you men are desperadoes.”
“Now, that’s a nice turn of phrase,” Jim said.
Jill glared at him. “I hate you,” she said, dripping cold contempt.
Jim said, trying to be light, but an apology there, “And I love you, Sweetie Pie.”
She snorted.
Bert led the way from the car to the exclusive elevator that led to the uppermost reaches of the Administration Building.
At Suite G he turned to Jill. “You must be very upset. Do you want to go to your own apartment and, well, clean up and rest, or whatever?”
She looked at him coolly. “I refuse to leave you here with this unfortunate man.” She looked at Kneedler. “You are Professor…?”
“Kneedler,” the teacher said. He was in a state of exhaustion.
“Kay,” Bert said. “Let’s all go in and find out what’s going on.”
In the living room, Jill looked at Jim, dwelling on the arm he had in a black sling. His face was on the pale side.
She said, “You’ve been hurt.”
Jim said, mockingly, “Didn’t you notice? While your boy friends were taking you for a ride, Bert and I tried to, uh, admonish them. One of them hit me a little with that shooter he had.”
“Let me take a look at it,” she said.
“All right, there’s a medical kit in here.” He looked at Bert apologetically. “I seem to have ripped some of those bandages off, there at the house. I’m dripping a little more ink.”
“Need a medic?”
“Maybe not. Let’s see.”
On the way to the bathroom with Jill, Jim stopped at the bar long enough to pour himself some more of the ancient Scotch. Carrying his glass with him, as he followed her, he said, “This stuff almost makes the whole thing worth while, though frankly I came to this place to loaf on my veteran’s benefits and Guaranteed Annual Income, not for this sort of fun and games.”
Kenneth Kneedler sank onto one of the living room couches and held his head in his hands.
Bert Alshuler went over to the ornate desk and sat before the phone screen. He flicked the switch and said, “Professor Ralph Marsh. Albert Alshuler calling, I’m listed on his restricted phone.”
Marsh’s plump face faded in. When he saw who it was, irritation was there. He snapped, “What is it now, confound it?”
Bert said, “We’ve rescued Jill Masterson, confound it.”
That stopped the other. Finally, he got out, “You have? How?”
“It’s a long story and one I haven’t got time to tell right now. The thing is, the three men who were holding her were armed.”
The professor stared at him.
Bert said, flatly, “They’re dead. It’s undoubtedly on the data bank records in the traffic department that I drove out to that house in a rented vehicle. Here are the coordinates. The place is on the outskirts.” He stated the coordinates Kneedler had given him. “There’s something else that could be tracked down through the data banks. We had to kidnap Assistant Professor Kenneth Kneedler. He was in on it. He knew where they were. We had to track him down and that record will be somewhere too.”
The professor was aghast.
Bert rapped, “Can you do anything about all this?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“Well, you’d better hop to it. And listen, Marsh, I want to see Katz, absolutely soonest. Understand?”
“He’s out of town.”
“Well, get him back into town, damn it.” He slammed off the phone.
Bert Alshuler looked over at Kneedler who was still sitting, head in hands. Bert went over to the bar, poured a double slug in a glass and carried it to the teacher.
“Here,” he said.
Kneedler looked up. “I don’t drink.”
“This comes under the head of medicine. You need it. Toss it all the way down.”
The other obeyed and sputtered.
Jill and Jim came back into the room, and Jim made a beeline for the bar.
Bert growled at him, “Stay away from that liquor, you lush. We’ve got to keep our heads clear.”
Jim ignored him, got a drink and then came over and sat on the far end of the couch Kneedler occupied. Jill took a chair and tightened her lips.
Bert said, “Kay. Let’s start Jill, why did those men take you out of here?”
They said they had come to warn me. To tell me all about Katz and what he was up to. I wouldn’t listen and they were afraid that some of their enemies would show up. So they forced me to go along to some place where they’d have time to explain. I was stubborn.
“Why did they shoot at Jim and me out in the hall?”
“The others said later that the one with the gun evidently thought you were connected with Katz, and that he had just been trying to scare you off.”
Jim chuckled sourly. “Unfortunately, we don’t scare so good.”
“Shut up, Jim,” Bert said. “Well, what did they tell you, there at the house before Jim and I arrived?”
“Practically nothing. I was terribly upset at seeing the shooting and all. They were letting me rest, so that I’d be settled down and could understand.”
Bert Alshuler grimaced and turned to Kenneth Kneedler. “Kay. It’s your turn. Start at the beginning, friend. Four men are dead, and we’ve got to find some good reasons why.”