"And that pack of cigarettes: unopened," he jeered. "I suppose I
communicated the data to the manufacturers by telepathy, and they
printed it on the cigarette papers in invisible ink."
"Maybe not. Maybe you opened the pack, and then resealed it," Kato
suggested. "A heated spatula under the cellophane; like this."
He used the point of his knife to illustrate. The cellophane came
unsealed with surprising ease: so did the revenue stamp. He dumped out
the contents of the pack: sixteen cigarettes, four cigarette tip-ends,
four bits snapped from the other ends--and a small aluminum microfilm
capsule.
Lowiewski's face twitched. For an instant, he tried vainly to break
loose from the men who held him. Then he slumped into a chair. Heym
ben-Hillel gasped in shocked surprise. Suzanne Maillard gave a short,
felinelike cry. Sir Neville Lawton looked at the capsule curiously and
said: "Well, my sainted Aunt Agatha!"
"That's the capsule I gave him, at noon," Farida Khouroglu exclaimed,
picking it up. She opened it and pulled out a roll of colloidex
projection film.
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