Goode was still
gloomy.
"I made a mistake in trying to bribe you," he said. "But can't I appeal
to your sense of fairness? Do you want to inflict serious losses on
innocent investors merely to avenge one crime?"
"I don't approve of murder," Rand told him. "Least of all, to paraphrase
Clausewitz, as an extension of business by other means. You know, if we
let Lane Fleming's killer get away with it, somebody might take that as a
precedent and bump you off to win a lawsuit, sometime. Ever think of
that?"
When he returned to the gunroom, he found Gladys Fleming occupying the
chair lately vacated by the family attorney. She blew a smoke-ring at him
in greeting as he entered.
"Now what was Hump Goode up to?" she wanted to know.
"I'm taking too much on myself," Rand evaded. "Maybe I should have turned
Walters over for trial by family court-martial. How do you like Davies,
by the way?"
"Oh, he's cute," Gladys told him. "One of your operatives, isn't he?"
"Now what in the world gave you an idea like that?" he asked, as though
humoring the vagaries of a child.
"Well, I suspected something of the sort from the alacrity with which you
produced him, before Walters was out of the house," she said.
Pages:
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275