William Johnston: Sorry, Chief…

“Max…”

“Yes, 99?”

“Max, when I took hold of the knob, it turned.”

“I don’t think that will give us any trouble, 99. The fact that the knob turned simply means that- Oh, yes, I see what you mean. The door has been unlocked all the time.” He shrugged. “Well, that doesn’t mean that the screwdriver isn’t a success. I still say, someday, somewhere, sometime, it will come in handy for something.”

Max opened the door and leaned it against the wall.

“Where shall we look, Max?” 99 said, entering the stateroom.

“Well, we can skip the closet this time. We did it the last time we were in here.” He looked around. “Those brief cases,” he said, pointing, “let’s go through them.”

“Rorff!”

“All right, Fang, you check under the bunk again. But don’t breathe too much of that dust.”

Max and 99 began opening and inspecting the contents of the several brief cases.

“Any invisible guinea pigs?” Max asked.

“Not yet.”

“Ah… 99…” Max said, “are you sure you’d know an invisible guinea pig if you saw one?”

“I think so, Max. They look a little like big invisible rats, don’t they?”

“That’s right-just checking.”

“Max, there’s nothing here but papers,” 99 sighed. “Scientific papers. Papers, papers, papers.”

“I’m finding the same thing, 99 Papers, papers, papers.”

“I don’t even understand what they say,”

“Oh. well, that’s simple enough. These are scientific papers on-”

“Max? What’s the matter?”

“I think I know now why Dr. Zee was suspicious of me, 99.”

“Why, Max?”

“Dr. Zee is a space scientist.”

“Oh. Well, Max, you said someone was in for a surprise. I guess it’s you.”

“Surprised, yes,” Max said grimly. “But not beaten. These papers on space science could be a ruse. They could be a red herring. Or, to put it more succinctly-a scarlet ruse.”

“You mean you think Dr. Zee planted these papers here to lead us off the trail?”

“Exactly. He hoped that we would find these papers, think he was a space scientist, and chalk him off as a suspect.”

“Then we better continue to search the room, right, Max?”

“Right, 99.”

“There isn’t anything else to search, Max.”

“Then we’ll start back at the beginning. We must have missed something. 99, check that closet again.”

“Yes, Max,” 99 said, going to the closet.

“And I’ll look under the bed,” Max said.

“Bunk, Max.”

“No, I mean it-I’m really going to do it.”

“All right, Max.”

Max kneeled and peered under the bunk.

“Rorff!”

“What do you mean by that-‘there’s nobody here but us chickens!’?”

“Rorff!”

“Oh, yes, I see what you mean. Covered with those dust puffs, you do look a little like a chicken.”

“Max…” 99 called.

“Yes?”

“I think you’re in for another surprise, Max.”

Max got to his feet. He looked in 99’s direction. She had opened the closet door. And standing inside the closet was the nosy steward.

“That’s exactly what I mean by ‘dirty pool,’ ” Max said to 99.

“I knew you’d come back here sooner or later,” the steward said, stepping from the closet. “A criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.” He gestured toward the door. “The Captain is waiting.”

Discouraged, Max and 99 marched out.

“You, too, chicken,” the steward called.

Fang crawled out from under the bunk and fell into line.

The Captain sternly surveyed the culprits the steward had brought him. “Those two I believe,” he said. “They look like looters. But what’s that chicken doing with them?”

“One of the gang,” the steward replied.

The Captain leaned forward, addressing Fang. “How did a nice chicken like you get mixed up with this bunch?” he said.

Fang shook himself. Dust puffs flew. “Rorff!” he barked.

“Well, you could have fooled me,” the Captain muttered. He turned to Max. “You know what this means, of course. This is the third time you’ve been caught. Three strikes and you’re in.”

“Out,” Max corrected.

“In,” the Captain said. “In the brig. Take ’em away, steward.”

“Captain, you’re making a terrible mistake,” Max protested. “I know, the evidence is against us, it looks like we’re looters, all right. But that happens to be circumstantial evidence. Number one, if we’re looters, what did we steal? Is anything missing?”

The Captain spoke to the steward. “Is anything missing?”

“No, sir.”

“Another thing,” Max said. “What proof do you have that we were even in that stateroom? We claim that we were nowhere in the vicinity.”

“I was in my own stateroom,” 99 said.

“And I was in the dining room having lunch,” Max said.

“Rorff!”

“That, I won’t believe,” the Captain said. “Boston is thousands of miles from here.”

“Let me put it this way,” Max said. “Do you have a witness who can definitely place us in Dr. Zee’s stateroom at the time of the alleged crime?”

“I was there, sir,” the steward said. “I saw them.”

“Your testimony is inadmissible,” Max said.

“Why can’t I accept his testimony?” the Captain asked, puzzled.

“Because, Your Honor, this man is a bribe-taker. I, personally, can testify that he accepted a bribe from me.”

“Me, too,” the Captain said. “It cost me ten bucks to get him to forget that I don’t know port from starboard-or, vice versa, as the case may be.” He addressed the steward. “Your testimony is inadmissible,” he said.

“So, you see,” Max crowed, “you have no evidence.”

“I agree,” the Captain said. He turned to the steward again. “Take ’em to the brig,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” the steward beamed.

“But, Your Honor!” Max objected. “I just proved to you that you have no evidence.”

“Evidence-schmevidence,” the Captain said. “Looting is bad for business.” He waved a hand. “Lock ’em up!”

The steward turned the key in the lock, then hung the key on a hook-which was too far away from the cell to reach-then ambled off, whistling happily.

Max looked around at the cell. It was about the size of a closet. There was a cot-on which 99 and Fang were seated. He rattled the bars-and the bars rattled back.

“One thing about our predicament-it’s going to make solving the case more of a challenge,” Max said.

“Max, don’t you think we ought to tell the Captain who we really are?”

“And break our word, 99? We promised when we took our oath never to reveal our true identities to anyone.”

“Max, maybe, just this once, we could get permission from the Chief.”

Max considered this for a moment, then said, “Well, we can try it.”

He sat down on the cot next to 99 and Fang and removed his shoe.

Max: Chief? Agent 86 calling. Are you there?

Operator: I’m sorry, sir. The line is busy.

Max: That’s impossible, operator. This is a private line.

Operator: I don’t make the rules, sir, I just follow them. And the rule is, I can’t break in when the line is busy.

Max: Would it make any difference, operator, if I told you that the fate of the whole civilized world hangs in the balance?

Operator: There isn’t any rule for that, sir. I’m sorry.

Max: Then let me put it to you as one human being to another. Would you, one human being, put me, another human being, through to the Chief, if I told you that unless you do the whole of civilization, as we know it, will be torn asunder?

Operator: I couldn’t do that, sir.

Max: Operator, for the love of mankind, why not?