Man on a leash - By Charles Williams Page 0,53

might. But they were both too big, six feet or over. One had a hush-puppy accent, Texas, I think.”

“So there are three of them, at least.”

She gestured toward the wall. “Plus Hotpants.”

“Did you get a look at their car?”

“No. I think it must have been down the hill in back, at your father’s place. After they slugged you and injected that stuff in your arm, they held me and gave me a shot of it, too. Then the one who seemed to be in charge sent Tex off to get the wheels. Tex was the one who was smitten by my desirability. Or maybe availability is the word. Anyway, the stuff didn’t take effect right away, and I was still with it to some extent when I heard the car pull up in front; but by the time they’d lugged you out there and then come back for me. I was out. I have some kind of vague impression of about half-way waking up somewhere along the line and the two of us were lying on a mattress in the back of what might have been a panel truck. We were stopped, and they seemed to be giving you the needle again. But the whole thing might have been a dream.”

“No. There are two punctures.”

“But why the drugs at all? They could have just tied us up.”

“So we wouldn’t be able even to make a guess which direction we were driven or for how long. We could be twenty miles west of Coleville or four hundred miles south. I think we’re in the Sierra or the foothills, for what that’s worth, which is nothing.”

“Do you suppose they’re going to do the same thing again, send you into the bank for the money the way they did your father?”

“Apparently. It worked the other time, so maybe they think they can get away with it again.”

“But there’s one thing I still don’t understand. His hands were free, of course, so why couldn’t he—”

“Time,” he said. He explained. “He’d have been blown up before he could even start to get out of it.”

“But, Eric, part of the junk must have been somewhere else on him. In his coat, maybe, so there’d have to be interconnection wires he could yank loose.”

“Yeah, I “know—” he began, but at that moment the intercom came to life.

“Of course he could have pulled the circuits apart,” a voice said. “But that was the last thing on earth he wanted. Believe me.”

They looked at each other. The question was obvious in Romstead’s eyes. She shrugged. It could be Kessler, but she wasn’t sure.

Romstead turned toward the intercom. “Why?”

“You know anything about electrical circuits or electronics?” the voice asked.

“Very little,” Romstead said bleakly.

“Well, your old man did. He got it right away when I showed him the circuit.”

“You want me to ask, is that it?”

“I don’t care if you do or not, but I think you ought to understand what you’re up against. The detonator was on the back contact of the relay. Failsafe in reverse.”

“All right, whatever that means.”

“It means, quite simply, that the thing wasn’t intended to be detonated by the radio signal. It was the radio signal that kept it from detonating, if you’re still with me. He was on a leash.”

Romstead got it then, the full horror of it and the helplessness his father must have felt. He couldn’t run, because if he went beyond the range of the transmitter he’d blow up automatically. If the police grabbed Kessler, or if he himself got close enough to grab him or knock him out, the same thing would happen.

“The spark supply was self-contained,” the voice went on. “A bank of charged capacitors. Perfectly harmless as long as the detonating circuit was open, but if the radio circuit failed for any reason, the relay fell open and completed the detonating circuit through the back contact. Neat device.”

Egomaniac, Romstead thought. He was capable of talking himself into the gas chamber just to prove how brilliant he was. But that was of little help here.

“Now we’re all agreed you’re a genius,” Romstead said, “do we have to have the burro?”

“No, we haven’t got another burro. We’ve got some good sixteen millimeter footage of that one, though, if you need convincing.”

Romstead said nothing. The bed was beginning to creak again on the other side of the wall. The voice went on, “Not necessary, anyway. You don’t think we’re stupid enough to try the same thing again in the same way, do