Cowder shook his head. “Not necessary. They’ll be up in a few minutes, but they’ll probably just confirm what we already know. Peel that tape off, will you?”
Mike took his ionizer from the top of the desk, walked over to the door, and began running it over the tape. It fell off and slithered to the floor. As he worked, he said:
“You think you know where the rocket was fired from?”
“Almost positive,” said Cowder. “We got a call a few minutes back from the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.”
The last of the tape fell off, and Mike opened the door. It didn’t work easily, but it did open. The odor of bitter almonds was so faint that it might actually have been imagination.
Cowder pointed out the shattered window at the gray spire of the cathedral. “There’s your launching site. We don’t know how they got up there, but they managed.”
“They?”
“Two of them. When they tried to leave, a couple of priests and two officers of the Cathedral Police spotted them. The kids dropped their launcher and two unfired rockets, and then tried to run for it. Result: one dead kid, one getaway. One of the cops got a bad gash on his arm from a vibroblade, and one of the priests got it in the abdomen. He’ll live, but he’s in bad shape.”
Mike said something under his breath that might have been an oath, except that it avoided all mention of the Deity. Then he added that Name, in a different tone of voice.
“I agree,” said Cowder. “You think you know why they did it?”