main market for three hours.

Yet in spite of all the ballot-stuffing and intimidations, Wayne had
barely squeaked through, by a four per cent majority. It was obvious
that the current administration could never win another election.

Bruce Gordon lifted the cradled phone from the box. "Gordon reporting,"
he announced.

A startled grunt came from the instrument, followed by the clicks of
hasty switching. In less than fifteen seconds, Trench's voice barked out
of the phone. "Gordon? Where the hell you been?"

"Up an alley between McCutcheon and Miles," Gordon told him. "With a
corpse. Murdoch's corpse. Better send out the wagon."

Trench hesitated only a fraction of a second. "Okay, _I'll_ be out in
ten minutes."

Gordon clumped back to the alley and bent for a final inspection of
Murdoch's body, to make sure nothing would prove the flaws in his weakly
built story.

Isaiah Trench was better than his word. He swung his gray car up to the
alley in seven minutes.

The door slammed behind him, a beam snapped out from his flashlight into
the alley, and then he was beside Murdoch's body. He threw the light to
Gordon and stooped to run expert hands over the corpse and through the
pockets.

Finally, he stood up, frowning. "He's dead, all right. I don't get it.
If you hadn't reported in ... Gordon, did he try to make you think he
was--"

"Security?" Gordon filled in. "Yeah. Claimed he was head of it here, and
wanted me to send a message to Earth for him."

Trench nodded, a touch of relief on his face. "Crazy!"

Gordon grimaced faintly.

"Crazy," Trench repeated. "He must have been to spin that story ... By
the way, thanks for killing that sniper. You're a good shot. I'd be dead
if you weren't, I guess."

Gordon made no comment, and Trench said, "I could start a nasty
investigation, I guess. But I heard him raving, too. Give me a hand, and
I'll take care of all this ... Want me to drop you off?"

They wangled the body into the trunk of the car. Then it was good to
relax while Trench drove along the rubble-piled and nearly deserted
streets. Gordon heard a sigh from beside him; Trench must have been
under tension, too.

They didn't speak until Trench stopped in front of Mother Corey's place.
Then the captain turned and stuck out his hand. "Congratulations, by the
way. I forgot to tell you, but you won the lottery. You're a sergeant
from now on."

* * * * *

Inside, a thick effl