The thing had happened only minutes ago. Whoever did it, the killer must still be close at hand. A roving flicker of pale radiance warned Torry that a scanner was in use. By whom? From where? No complex mental processes were needed to convince Torry that he was in a bad spot. The goon squads were notorious for acting first and asking questions afterwards.
Getting into the citadel to see Ferax had been interesting enough. Getting out again promised to be more so. If he ever got out.
The office door was opening slowly. Silently Torry glided behind it. Reaching around it, he snatched cloth and flesh and dragged a struggling form into the room.
"Tharol Sen!" The girl was panting, her periwinkle eyes wide and glazed with horror.
Torry subdued her writhings by jamming the blaster muzzle hard into her flesh.
"Talk low," he ordered. "But talk fast. Why did you kill Ferax?"
"I didn't. I found him like that, just a moment ago. I heard the blaster and looked in quickly. Then I hid in the office across. I heard something and came back here. That's all I know." Her voice ended on a wail.
Torry jerked up the elfin face and studied it savagely. For some reason he believed her. But there was more to explain, even if someone else had killed the labor racketeer, and little time for explanations.
"How did you get in here?" he snapped. "And why?"
She threw back her head in a characteristic gesture. Her eyes sparkled.