Chapter 15

Alan sat very quietly in the empty apartment that had once belonged to Max Hawkes, and stared at nothing in particular. It was five hours since the abortive robbery. He was alone.

The news had been blared out over every form of communication there was; he knew the story by heart. A daring robbery had been attempted, but police detection methods had yielded advance warning, and the robbers had been frustrated. The roboguards had been specially equipped ones which could shift to an alternate wavelength in case of emergency; they had blanked out only momentarily. And special guards had been posted within the bank, ready to charge out. Byng and Hawkes had tried to block the doorway and they had been shot down. Hawkes was killed instantly; Byng died an hour later in the hospital.

At least two other members of the gang had been apprehended--Jensen and Smith, both trapped by the roboguards. It was known that at least two other men and possibly more had participated in the attempt, and these were being traced now.

Alan was not worried. He had not been within a hundred feet of the crime, and it had been easy for him to slip away unnoticed. The others had had little difficulty either--Webber, Hollis, Kovak, McGuire, and Freeman. There was a chance that Hollis or Kovak had been recognized; in that case, they could be tracked down by televector. But Alan was not registered on the televector screens--and there was no other way of linking him with the crime.

He glanced around the apartment at Hawkes’ bar and his audio system and all the dead man’s other things. Yesterday, Alan thought, Hawkes had been here, alive, eyes sparkling as he outlined the plans for the robbery a final time. Now he was dead. It was hard to believe that such a many-sided person could have been snuffed out so soon, so quickly.

A thought occurred. The police would be investigating the disposition of Hawkes’ property; they would want to know the relationship between Hawkes and Alan, and perhaps there would be questions asked about the robbery. Alan decided to forestall that.

He reached for the phone. He would call Security, tell them he had been living with Hawkes and had heard of the gambler’s sudden violent death, and in all innocence ask for details. He would--

The door-announcer chimed.

Alan whirled and put down the receiver. Reaching out, he flicked on the doorscreen and was shown a view of a distinguished-looking middle-aged man in the silver-gray uniform of the police. So soon? Alan thought. I didn’t even get a chance to call--

“Who is it?” he asked, in a surprisingly even voice.

“Inspector Gainer of Global Security.”

Alan opened the door. Inspector Gainer smiled warmly, walked in, took the seat Alan offered him. Alan felt tense and jumpy, and hoped not too much of it showed.

The Security man said, “Your name is Alan Donnell, isn’t it? And you’re a Free Status man, unregistered, employed as a professional gamesman Class B?”

Alan nodded. “That’s right, sir.”

Gainer checked a notation on a pad he carried. “I suppose you’ve heard that the man who lived here--Max Hawkes--was killed in an attempted robbery this morning.”

“Y-yes, sir. I heard it a little while ago, on the newscasts. I’m still a little shaken up. W-would you care for a drink, Inspector?”

“Not on duty, thanks,” Gainer said cheerfully. “Tell me, Alan--how long did you know Max Hawkes?”

“Since last May. I’m an ex-starman. I--jumped ship. Max found me wandering around the city and took me in. But I never knew anything about any robberies, Inspector. Max kept his mouth pretty well sealed most of the time. When he left here this morning, he said he was going to the bank to make a deposit. I never thought--”

He stopped, wondering whether he sounded convincing. At that moment a long jail sentence or worse seemed inevitable. And the worst part of it was that he had not wanted to take part in the robbery, indeed had not taken part--but in the eyes of the law he was undoubtedly as guilty as any of the others.

Gainer raised one hand. “Don’t misunderstand, son. I’m not here as a criminal investigator. We don’t suspect you had any part in the attempt.”

“Then why--”

He drew an envelope from his breast pocket and unfolded the papers it contained. “I knew Max pretty well,” he said. “About a week ago he came to see me and gave me a sealed envelope which was to be opened only in the event of his death on this particular day, and to be destroyed unopened otherwise. I opened it a few hours ago. I think you ought to read it.”

With trembling fingers Alan took the sheaf of papers and scanned them. They were neatly typed; Alan recognized the blocky purple characters of the voicewrite Hawkes kept in his room.

He started to read.

The document explained that Hawkes was planning a bank robbery to take place on Friday, October 3, 3876. He named none of his accomplices. He went on to state that one Alan Donnell, an unregistered ex-starman, was living with him, and that this Alan Donnell had no knowledge whatsoever of the intended bank robbery.

Furthermore, Hawkes added, in the event of my death in the intended robbery, Alan Donnell is to be sole heir and assign of my worldly goods. This supersedes and replaces any and all wills and testaments I may have made at any past time.

Appended was a schedule of the properties Hawkes was leaving behind. Accounts in various savings banks totalled some three quarters of a million credits; besides that, there were scattered investments, real estate holdings, bonds. The total estate, Hawkes estimated, was worth slightly over one million credits.

When Alan finished, he looked up startled and white-faced at the older man. “All of this is mine?”

“You’re a pretty rich young man,” Gainer agreed. “Of course, there are formalities--the will has to be probated and contested, and you can expect it to be contested by somebody. If you still have the full estate when the courts get through with you, you’ll be all right.”

Alan shook his head uncomprehendingly. “The way he wrote this--it’s as if he knew.”

“Max Hawkes always knew,” Gainer said gently. “He was the best hunch-man I’ve ever seen. It was almost as if he could look a couple of days into the future all the time. Sure, he knew. And he also knew it was safe to leave this document with me--that he could trust me not to open it. Imagine, announcing a week ahead of time that you’re going to rob a bank and then turning the announcement over sealed to a police officer!”

Alan started. The police had known about the robbery in advance--that was how Max and the dreamduster Byng had been killed. Had Gainer been the one who had betrayed them? Had he opened the sealed envelope ahead of time, and sent Max to his death?