Gentlemen:I'm sure that the late R. Philipp Dachboden appreciates the trouble you have gone to. If it wasn't successful, don't blame yourselves; you tried.As for the statue and various otherobjets d'art,I'm afraid they are nowRespectfully mine,Leland Hale.
Gentlemen:
I'm sure that the late R. Philipp Dachboden appreciates the trouble you have gone to. If it wasn't successful, don't blame yourselves; you tried.
As for the statue and various otherobjets d'art,I'm afraid they are now
Respectfully mine,Leland Hale.
A short time previous to the flamboyant opening of the capsule in Grosstat, and several hundred miles away, His Excellency, Hinrik Fonshliezen, State Portfolio of Sudapfahl, sat nervously in his office. If the I.P. men were sweating, Fonshliezen was absolutely soaked in his own juices. He sat at his desk, looking from his watch to the telephone and back again. He was expecting a call.
Even so, when the phone rang, he jumped. Then he grabbed the instrument. "Hello! Fonshliezen here!" he barked hoarsely.
"Hinrik, old spirillum, I have your merchandise. You know where to meet me. And—ah—remember what I told you."
"You got it? Where have you been? You've been gone for two days! What—"
"That's none of your business, Hinrik; just come on. And remember—none of your clever foxiness."
"I'll remember," Hinrik said.
There was a click as the instrument was hung up.
Hinrik Fonshliezen frowned worriedly and glanced at the briefcase on his desk that held half a million stellors in Interstellar Bank drafts. How could he be sure that Hale actually had the carving? He glanced at his watch again. The news should come through soon. Hale had told him to wait for the news from Nordapfahl.
He was well prepared for any tricks on Hale's part. He had put a special lock on the briefcase; if Hale just tried to take the money, it would be too bad for Hale.
On the other hand, Hinrik Fonshliezen was well aware that he, himself had better not try anything foolish. If Hale were killed or reported to the police—in other words, if he didn't make a clean getaway—certain audio-video recordings would go to the I.P., disclosing Hinrik's complicity in the deal.
The whole thing had to be on the up-and-up.
The phone rang again. His Excellency picked it up and identified himself. He listened. A broad, wolfish smile spread itself over his face.
"So Hale actually did it?" he said. "Well, that's too bad, my dear fellow. Of course, we must take the utmost precautions ourselves."
He hung up, and, whistling softly to himself, he picked up the briefcase and left his office.
For all of half a day, there was great rejoicing in Sudapfahl when it was discovered that the time capsule in Grunfelt had opened and had disclosed a marvelous collection of two-century-old artifacts, including a Dachboden original. His Excellency, the Portfolio of State, was the man of the day.
But it didn't last more than half a day. When the art experts pronounced the Dachboden a phony, the popularity of Hinrik dropped; when it was proved that the whole time capsule, with contents, was actually the one that belonged in Grosstat, Hinrik's popularity collapsed completely. He was held by the I.P. for questioning and confessed all.
By that time, Leland Hale was a good many parsecs away in his own private ship.
An excerpt from the report filed by Captain Whitter contains some enlightening information.
"What happened became obvious after the fact," the captain wrote. "The whole buildup was a phony from beginning to end. Hale had heard of the time capsule in Grosstat, so he went to Apfahl with a duplicate time capsule, which contained his note. He tunneled underneath the Museum and switched capsules. It was not until after he had made the switch that he planted the forged Dachboden note for Dr. Mier to find.
"There never had been a Dachboden carving in the capsule; that was all a figment of Leland Hale's imagination.
"Dr. Rudolf Mier couldn't understand why Hale had done it. 'Why did he make me think there was a statue in there?' he kept asking me. 'Why did he do this to me?'
"I think the answer is simple. The records show that Hale was on Kessin IV three years ago, during the war there. I believe that he actually was swindled himself; someone sold him a bogus Dachboden. Remember, the art-swindler Fenslaw was killed at that time.
"Hale, therefore, had a phony Dachboden on his hands that he had to unload to save his pride. More, he had to make a very big profit on it.
"He knew that he couldn't just try to sell it anywhere. Even if he found a sucker who would accept it as real, there wouldn't be enough money in it to make it worth Hale's time.
"He couldn't have sold it to Fonshliezen without the big buildup. If he'd just produced the carving from nowhere, Fonshliezen would have been suspicious. A few simple tests would have shown that thedynakwood was less than ten years old.
"Obviously, Hale had to get Fonshliezen into a position where he would accept the carving without testing it.
"Hale, therefore, planted an empty time capsule, with his note inside, under the Museum and took the real capsule with him. By bombarding the time lock with neutrons, he managed to increase the radioactivity enough to keep the lock closed for an additional twenty-four hours, so that he could palm the real capsule off on Fonshliezen as a phony which he had presumably set himself.
"Then he arranged for Dr. Mier to discover the forged note which Dachboden presumably wrote two centuries ago. He had no reason to suspect a forgery, since there was no obvious way for anyone to profit by such a thing.
"What followed from then on was as automatic as the clockwork in the time capsules."
If the Captain was a little bitter, he had a right to be; he'd been made a fool of, just like the others. But he was luckier or hardier than they. He didn't blow his brain to bits with a handgun, as Fonshliezen did; he didn't die, broken and disgraced, as Mier did.
On the other hand, he didn't get off scot-free with a half million stellors to spend, as Leland Hale did.