We're Friends, Now Page 7

murder? Idid! The louse put through a vis call to me. _Insisted_ I come out andsee him--"

  "Whoa, now just a minute! You wouldn't say this was a friendly visit?"

  "I'll get to that!" Pederson's words came fast and clipped. "You knowhow I fought the ECAIAC lobby. I fought it long and hard, and when Ilost it finished me with the public. But I wasn't through! I begandigging up every fact I could about Carmack. Took me a few years, butworth it. Most of it smelled! Ask Professor Losch, he'll tell you--"

  "I've already spoken with Losch," Beardsley said quietly. "He managed toconvey his sentiments pretty thoroughly."

  "Good. Then try talking to _him_," Pederson nodded venomously at_Mandleco_. "Ask Mandleco how the great Carmack managed to get thosepatents through.... I can tell you he didn't do it alone! Oh, I've dugplenty!"

  "Why, you--" Mandleco gave a snort of anger and started forward, butBeardsley managed to forestall him. He gazed sternly at thetele-columnist.

  "I think we're all aware of your considerable talent for digging,Pederson. ECAIAC, too," he added pointedly, "for we already have it onthe tapes."

  Pederson bristled. "Sure. Sure, you have it! My past connection, myopposition to the lobby, even my digging maybe. But you don't have itall! How do you equate _hate_, Beardsley? Is _that_ on your tapes?"

  Beardsley could have told him that it was, indeed, on the tapes. But heonly shook his head. "No," he said slowly, "we don't have it all. NotECAIAC nor I nor any of us, and that's the eternal pity of it. But I'dlike to try! The sum and the substance, Pederson ... don't youunderstand me? Just once before I'm through--"

  * * * * *

  It was the voice, some secret and subtle thing in the voice that reachedout and gripped Pederson and bore meaning with it. He stood quitemotionless, staring at Beardsley; for a split second his eyes widened,then disbelief gave way to something of comprehension, admiration.

  "Beardsley," he said softly. "You fool. You utter damned fool!"

  Oblivious of the others, then, he turned and began to pace. "All right.Here it is. Carmack called me out to see him. He had gotten wind of whatI was up to, and offered to buy me off." Pederson laughed bitterly."Wasn't even subtle about it! Said he liked my stuff, and would like tosee me at the top again where I belonged. Said he could arrange for meto step into a top job at Central Telecast. Providing, of course, Icould manage to--ah--'forget' certain little items I'd uncovered."

  * * * * *

  Pederson was doing all right. Beardsley gave him his lead.

  "He actually thought it would be that simple! I refused him outright,and of course, he couldn't believe it. A man like that--We dropped allpretense, there were some bitter words--"

  Beardsley said quickly, "Could you elaborate?"

  "Oh, I don't remember exactly. He went venomous! I suppose there werethreats. I told him he hadn't enough money _or_ influence to buy what Iknew, and that when I had it properly documented I intended to make anational scandal of it." Pederson halted abruptly. "You know, itoccurred to me later that was a foolhardy thing to say!"

  "Ah? Why is that?"

  "Well, I had heard of that safeguard of his--the 'neuro-vibe'--and Isuppose there were other things, too. He was a cautious man, a dangerousman. But," Pederson shrugged, "he let me into his home readily enough."

  Beardsley lifted a finger. "Because he was confident he was going to buyyou--wouldn't you say?"

  "I suppose that's it. Maybe I was lucky to get out of there so easily!Anyway I did." Pederson stopped pacing, and his gaze bored intoBeardsley's. "So now to the big question. Yes, he was alive when I lefthim. No, I never saw Carmack again. I went straight to my office andworked until well past midnight; by the way, I have ample proof ofthat--"

  "Yes, I'm sure you do! What were your feelings at this point?"

  "My feelings? I knew my life was in danger now! Carmack would be out tostop me. I don't mind admitting I was ... well, rather relieved, when Iheard the news."

  "Ah-h! And when did you hear it?"

  Pederson glared, but his answer was quick. "Late the next afternoon, ofcourse! By habit I work late hours and I sleep long." With an air offinality he threw a challenging look around. "I want to congratulatewhoever did it, and I don't much care whether the answer comes from youor ECAIAC!"

  Beardsley surveyed him solemnly. Pederson had little more than brushedthe surface, but it was enough, it served to set the pattern; he couldhave sworn Pederson was aware of that. He said drily, "Thanks, Pederson.Your story is--very pat."

  * * * * *

  He turned to the others. Mandleco rather surprised him, seeming not somuch disturbed as he was engrossed deep in thought; as for Mrs. Carmack,Beardsley saw that the comedy had gone out of it for her, but she triedto keep up the veneer.

  "This is all most interesting!" she sparkled, placing her glass downcarefully and turning to face him. "Am I to be next, Mr. Beardsley?Shall I give both the questions and the answers as Mr. Pederson did?"

  "No, Mrs. Carmack. I'll do that! I took note a moment ago that youmentioned the _whodunits_. You must be familiar with them? Say as ahobby?"

  It wasn't at all what she expected. She stood wide-eyed and startled.

  "This is so thrilling, remember. Vintage '60! As the _whodunits_ willtell you, one of the prime requisites is an accounting and proof of yourwhereabouts at the time of the deed! Well?"

  Beardsley's voice was just edged enough to throw her into confusion."Why, I--" she faltered. "You mean that night? I--I--"

  "What, no alibi? You don't even remember? According to vintage '60 thatcould mean either complete innocence or extreme cunning; beware thesuspect who is clever enough to be ready with no alibi!"

  Beardsley saw her stiffen; there was a change across her face, astruggle beneath the eyes. "But then," he shrugged, "it has always beenmy conviction that _motive_ rather than opportunity is the realrequisite. On that basis it's plain you couldn't have killed yourhusband. You loved him! He was only fifty-eight, he only left you adozen million dollars, but you loved him and you were faithful! Anyonecan see that after seven weeks you're still all broken up over it!"

  The veneer was gone now; Sheila Carmack's eyes were vicious pools ofhate, her mouth a grimace. "Why, you--you ridiculous little monster!"Victor d'Arlan stepped forward belligerently. "Say, now look here! Thisis all very--" Beardsley placed a hand on d'Arlan's chest and shoved,and the latter stumbled back with mouth agape. Pederson was gazing atBeardsley with delight and admiration, seeming to visualize this littleman as material for his next tele-column. Mandleco stood transfixed, amonument of agony, twisting a fist into his palm. "Beardsley, stop it!This ridiculous farce has gone far enough! I warned you about thesetactics--"

  Beardsley said, "Shut up!" and Mandleco stood there with mouth openingand closing soundlessly.

  "Well, Mrs. Carmack? Answer me! You loved your husband, didn't you? Forthe past ten minutes you've heard him maligned; I should think you'dwant to protect his very good name!"

  "Sheila, I must advise you against making _any_ statement of whatevernature!" Mandleco strode for the tele-stat, then turned back and pointeda trembling finger at Beardsley. "This man," he choked--"this man is nolonger acting in any official capacity for Crime-Central!"

  With a quick step Pederson got himself between Mandleco and thetele-stat; he strolled over to the instrument and leaned against it,with a knowing look at Beardsley.

  Sheila Carmack tilted her chin in defiance. "But I _wish_ to answer thisman. I insist on answering! Loved Amos Carmack? Love him?" Her voicerose a full octave and broke in stridence. "For the past nine years Ihave _hated--his--guts_!"

  * * * * *

  For a long moment the room was silent. No one moved. Beardsley's thickglasses glinted eerily as he peered around at them, from Mandleco toSheila to Pederson and back to Mandleco.

  "Well now," he said, "this is remarkable. Most remarkable! Everyonehated Carmack. Pr
ofessor Losch--we know why. Pederson here--he's told uswhy. His wife--I think it's obvious. Who else? Surely not you, Mandleco!Carmack was a pal of yours! You backed his cause with ECAIAC, youlobbied for him, you even stole patents for him.... I wonder whatpersuasion he held over you to bring all that about. Or is _persuasion_too mild a word? Vintage '60 had a better term for it!"

  Slowly, through the murk of his agitation Mandleco seized a measure