"What, are you crazy, son? I needed Armstrong, bad. Rinehart knew it, and had him taken care of. It was fishy—it stunk from here to Mars, but Rinehart covered it up fast and clean. But with the stuff you got up in the Colony, we can charge Rinehart with murder, and the whole Senate knows his motive already. He didn't dare to let Armstrong testify."
Carl was shaking his head sadly.
"Well, what's wrong?"
"You aren't going to like this, Dan. Rinehart's clean. Armstrong comitted suicide."
Fowler's mouth fell open, and he sat back hard. "Oh, no."
"Sorry."
"Ken Armstrong? Suicided?" He shook his head helplessly, groping for words. "I—I—oh, Jesus. I don't believe it. If Ken Armstrong suicided, I'm the Scarlet Whore of Babylon."
"Well, we'll try to keep that off the teevies."
"There's no chance that you're wrong," said the old man.