"Mack Reynolds - Pacifist" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

The butler’s face was gray. “The senator is in his study. I warn you ... sir ... the police shall know of this
immediately.”


“Sure, sure, Mac. Now just let’s go to the study “


“It’s right in there . . . sir."


“Fine,” Casey said. “And what’s that, under the stairway?”


“Why, that’s a broom closet. The downstairs maid’s broom . . .”


Casey brought his flat hand around in a quick clip. The servant folded up with a lung-emptying sigh and
Casey caught him before he hit the floor, pushed and wedged him inside. He darted a hand to a vest pocket
and brought forth a syrette. “That’ll keep you out for a couple of hours,” he muttered, closing the closet door.


He went over to the heavy door which the butler had indicated as Senator McGivern’s study, and knocked on
it. In a moment it opened and a husky in his mid-twenties, nattily attired and of obvious self-importance,
frowned at him.


“Yes?” he said


“Steve Jakes of Hemisphere News,” Warren Casey said. “The editor sent me over . . .” As he talked, he
sidestepped the other and emerged into the room beyond.


Behind the desk was an older edition of nine-year-old Fredric McGivern. A Fredric McGivern at the age of
perhaps fifty, with what had been boyish plump cheeks now gone to heavy jowls.


“What’s this?” he growled.


Casey stepped further into the room. “Jakes, Senator. My editor...”
 Senator Phil McGivern’s ability included cunning and a high survival factor. He lumbered to his feet.
“Walters! Take him!” he snapped. “He’s a fake!” He bent over to snatch at a desk drawer.


Walters was moving, but far too slowly.