Charlie was now his best competitive self. "Look at it from my point of view, Bart. If you didn't return, the business would become all mine anyway. Isn't that right?" A bland look of innocence spread over his face, a mask concealing the saturnine smile. "Bart, I suggest you delay your trip for a day or so. Raise the money some other way."
I held back long enough to believe my ears. Then I drew my gun. "You bastard!"
"You can't force me to sign! I'd repudiate it by phone the minute you left!"
"I'll kill you!"
"That won't get you the money. You'll rot in the slave-mines of Mercury!"
True. A feeling of fatalism swept over me like ocean surf. I opened Spacker's door and called out to the detectives:
"If you gentlemen will step in here, we've just received word of Mr. Sponsor's whereabouts."
Then I stepped back behind the door jamb, leveling the gun at Spacker. He knew I meant silence. He knew I would kill.
The detectives entered. I jumped behind them. "Raise your hands!"
They complied.