Unwise Child | Page 8

the Angel barely made it in time. He went to the door that led to his office, opened it, stepped through, and closed it behind him just as the blast went off.
The door shuddered behind Mike, but it didn't give. Mike's apartment was reasonably soundproof, but it wasn't built to take the kind of explosion that would shake the door that Mike the Angel had just closed. It was a two-inch-thick slab of armor steel on heavy, precision-bearing hinges. So was every other door in the suite. It wasn't quite a bank-vault door, but it would do. Any explosion that could shake it was a real doozy.
Mike the Angel spun around and looked at the door. It was just a trifle warped, and faint tendrils of vapor were curling around the edge where the seal had been broken. Mike sniffed, then turned and ran. He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a big roll of electrostatic tape. Then he took a deep breath, went back to the door, and slapped on a strip of the one-inch tape, running it all around the edge of the door. Then he went into the outer office while the air conditioners cleaned out his private office.
He went over to one of the phones near the autofile and punched for the operator. "I had a long-distance call coming in here from the Right Excellent Basil Wallingford, Minister for Spatial Affairs, Capitol City. We were cut off."
"One moment please." A slight pause. "His Excellency is here, Mr. Gabriel."
Wallingford's face came back on the screen. It had lost some of its ruddiness. "What happened?" he asked.
"You tell me, Wally," Mike snapped. "Did you see anything at all?"
"All I saw was that big pane of glass break. It fell into a thousand pieces, and then something exploded and the phone went dead."
"The glass broke first?"
"That's right."
Mike sighed. "Good. I was afraid that maybe someone had planted that bomb, rather than fired it in. I'd hate to think anyone could get into my place without my knowing it."
"Who's gunning for you?"
"I wish I knew. Look, Wally, can you wait until tomorrow for those specs? I want to get hold of the police."
"Certainly. Nothing urgent. It can wait. I'll call you again tomorrow evening." The screen blanked.
Mike glanced at the wall clock and then punched a number on the phone. A pretty girl in a blue uniform came on the screen.
"Police Central," she said. "May I help you?"
"I'd like to speak to Detective Sergeant William Cowder, please," Mike said. "Just tell him that Mr. Gabriel has more problems."
She looked puzzled, but she nodded, and pretty soon her image blanked out. The screen stayed blank, but Sergeant Cowder's voice came over the speaker. "What is it, Mr. Gabriel?"
He was evidently speaking from a pocket phone.
"Attempted murder," said Mike the Angel. "A few minutes ago a bomb was set off in my apartment. I think it was a rocket, and I know it was heavily laced with hydrogen cyanide. That's Suite 5000, Timmins Building, up on 112th Street. I called you because I have a hunch it's connected with the incident at Harry's earlier this evening."
"Timmins Building, eh? I'll be right up."
Cowder cut off with a sharp click, and Mike the Angel looked quizzically at the dead screen. Was he imagining things, or was there a peculiar note in Cowder's voice?
Two minutes later he got his answer.

5
Mike the Angel was sitting behind his desk in his private office when the announcer chimed. Mike narrowed his eyes and turned on his door screen, which connected with an eye in the outer door of the suite. Who could it be this time?
It was Sergeant Cowder.
"You got here fast," said Mike, thumbing the unlocker. "Come on back to my office."
The sergeant came through the outer office while Mike watched him on the screen. Not until the officer finally pushed open the door to Mike's own office did Mike the Angel look up from the screen.
"I repeat," said Mike, "you got here fast."
"I wasn't far away," said Cowder. "Where's the damage?"
Mike jerked a thumb toward the door to his apartment, still sealed with tape. "In there."
"Have you been back in there yet?"
"Nope," said Mike. "I didn't want to disturb anything. 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.
"Well, Sergeant, if I were going to do the job, I'd put my launcher in some place where I could see that my victim was inside,