"Philip E. High - The Artifact" - читать интересную книгу автора (High Phillip E)

“Yes, Chief, according to the lists he is an Ivan Berenof.”

Ransome went over to the visaphone. “I'll check him out.” He dialed a number and a face appeared in
the screen.

“Police Sector Nine—Oh, it's you, Chief. What can I do?”

“I want to know if you have anything on Ivan Berenof listed at this address.”

There was a brief pause then: “According to records here, sir, there's a list of offences as long as your
arm, and mine. Actually, sir, forty-four offences—but only one indictment. A smart Alec, Chief, with
brains; he got degrees at university. According to this, he specialized in fraud but was also a con artist.”

“Seems he made good money at it—this apartment is no attic.”

“One of three known, Chief, there may be more. No one seems to know when he arrived in this country
or where he comes from; nearest guess is mid-European.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, he had a car, wheel-less, of course, but not one of the hover jobs—one of the top flight
anti-gravs. Oh! And yes, a squad now searching below you say it's missing.”

Ransome hung up and turned towards me. “Right, looks like an open-and-shut but it isn't, even I see that.
Victim goes berserk and murders con-man—how do you feel about that?”

“I share your opinion, chief, just too easy.”

“But your opinion, man! You must have one.”

“My engagement as a sensitive does not permit me to presume, Chief. Procedure is I am only engaged as
a consultant.”

He scowled at me. “Oh for Christ's sake, can't we stop pussy-footing around this thing and get down to
facts?”

“Very well, Chief, but everything I say will strike you as irrelevant.”

“No matter, I flatter myself I'm open-minded: I'll hear you out.”

“Very well, Chief. There is a small table by the bay window over there. On it is a small vase. I suggest
you call in experts to remove it, experts with appropriate gear for the job. That vase should be treated
like a radioactive object, removed as such and inspected by experts.”

He scowled again, first at me then at the vase. “That little bronze colored thing?”

“Yes.”

“And you say it's radioactive?”