Robwood hesitated and cast an anxious glance at him, but turned and headed for the companionway to the storage deck.
"You've convinced him, have you, Lefler?" said Taat. "I didn't believe you were guilty, but this makes me think you are."
Lefler said nothing, but held the gun steadily on Taat. Taat appeared relaxed, but Lefler sensed a tension in him.
"What makes you think I did it, Lefler?" sparred Taat. The light glinted from his spectacles as he turned his eyes from Lefler's face to watch the shuffling cards.
"Two things," said Lefler. "If I'd killed him in a half-asleep daze, I wouldn't have put gloves on him to make it look like suicide. Second, your film started at 1500—a strangely precise hour—and Makki was killed before then."
"The first point is good psychology," conceded Taat. "Since Robwood couldn't have done it, I'll admit it looks like suicide. But your second point doesn't hold water. Medical examination is accurate almost to a fine point on the time of death so soon afterward."
"Medical evidence may not lie, but the examiner can, Taat," said Lefler.
The clank of the chains resounded up the companionway. Robwood was coming back. The spring in Taat uncoiled.
With a single sweep, he hurled the deck of cards at Lefler's head and surged upward. Lefler lost his balance and fell sidewise as he dodged the improvised missile. But even as he lost his equilibrium, he pressed the trigger of the heat-gun and brought it downward in a fast chop.