“I will say nothing,” Brubitsch announced. “I am a small child. It is enough.” He paused, blinked, and went on, “I will only tell you this: no murders were done by our group in any of our activities.”
“And what were your activities?” Malone asked.
“Oh, many things,” Brubitsch said. “Many, many things. We—”
The telephone rang loudly, and Malone scooped it up with a practiced hand. “Malone here,” he said.
Her Majesty’s voice was excited. “Sir Kenneth!” she said. “I just got a tremendous burst of static!”
Malone blinked. Is my mind acting up again? he thought, knowing she would pick it up. Am I being interfered with?
He didn’t feel any different. But then, how was he supposed to feel?
“It’s not your mind, Sir Kenneth,” Her Majesty said. “Not this time. It’s his mind. That sneaky-thinking Brubitsch fellow.”
Brubitsch? Malone thought. Now what is that supposed to mean?
“I don’t know, Sir Kenneth,” Her Majesty said. “But get on back to your questioning. He’s ready to talk now.”