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Updated: June 9, 2025
"That accident you were talking about, Sergeant the one that made those vibroblades blow, remember? I got to thinking that maybe this could have caused it. I think that with a little more power, it might even vaporize a high-speed bullet. But I'd advise you to wear asbestos clothing." Cowder took the thing and looked at it. "Thanks, Mr. Gabriel," he said honestly.
I figured maybe your lab boys could tell where the rocket came from." "What happened?" the cop asked. Mike told him, omitting nothing except the details of his conversation with Wallingford. "The way I see it," he finished, "whoever it was phoned me to make sure I was in the room and then went out and fired a rocket at my window." "What makes you think it was a JD?" Cowder asked.
Cowder pointed out the shattered window at the gray spire of the cathedral. "There's your launching site. We don't know how they got up there, but they managed." "They?" "Two of them. When they tried to leave, a couple of priests and two officers of the Cathedral Police spotted them. The kids dropped their launcher and two unfired rockets, and then tried to run for it.
But shouldn't we wait for the lab men?" Cowder shook his head. "Not necessary. They'll be up in a few minutes, but they'll probably just confirm what we already know. Peel that tape off, will you?" Mike took his ionizer from the top of the desk, walked over to the door, and began running it over the tape. It fell off and slithered to the floor.
Since he knew where I was going, he didn't have to stick too close, so I didn't spot him in the crowd. He might even have gone on up to 116th Street so that I wouldn't see him get off at 110th." "Sounds reasonable," Cowder agreed. "We know who the kids are. The uniformed squads are rounding up the whole bunch for questioning.
"I wonder if the so-called sociologists have any explanation for it?" "Sure," Cowder said. "Same one they've been giving for more decades than I'd care to think of. The mother was married before. Divorced her husband, married Larchmont. But she had a boy by her first husband." "Broken home and sibling rivalry? Pfui!
They were goin' to open up the rear completely and take my stuff out that way. They'd ha' done it, too, if Mr. Gabriel hadn't come along." Detective Sergeant Cowder looked at Mike the Angel. "About what time was that, Mr. Gabriel?" "About six thirty-five," Mike told him. "The kids probably hadn't been here more than a few minutes." Harry MacDougal nodded in silent corroboration.
A year from now, it might be shock guns, but right now you're chicken if you carry anything but a vibroblade." Cowder dropped the shield generator into his coat pocket. "Thanks again, Mr. Gabriel. We'll do you a favor sometime." The firm of M. R. GABRIEL, POWER DESIGN was not a giant corporation, but it did pretty well for a one-man show.
To get from this door to the outer door that leads into the alley, you got to turn two corners and walk about thirty feet. Even I, masel', couldn't walk through it without settin' off half a dozen alarms. Any kind of light would set off the bugs; so would the heat radiation from the human body." "How about the front?" Sergeant Cowder asked. "Anyone could get in from the front."
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