Arm of the Law, Page 3

That was my last thought as the thing let go with a "whoosh."

  Maybe you can hit a tank with one of those. But not a robot. At leastnot a police robot. Ned was sliding across the floor on his face whenthe back wall blew up. There was no second shot. Ned closed his hand onthe tube of the bazooka and it was so much old drainpipe.

  Billy decided then that anyone who fired a rocket in a police stationwas breaking the law, so he moved in with his club. I was right behindhim since I did not want to miss any of the fun. Ned was at the bottomsomewhere, but I didn't doubt he could take care of himself.

  There were a couple of muffled shots and someone screamed. No one firedafter that because we were too tangled up. A punk named Brooklyn Eddiehit me on the side of the head with his gunbutt and I broke his noseall over his face with my fist.

  * * * * *

  There is a kind of a fog over everything after that. But I do rememberit was very busy for a while.

  When the fog lifted a bit I realized I was the only one still standing.Or leaning rather. It was a good thing the wall was there.

  Ned came in through the street door carrying a very bashed-lookingBrooklyn Eddie. I hoped I had done all that. Eddie's wrists werefastened together with cuffs. Ned laid him gently next to the heap ofthugs--who I suddenly realized all wore the same kind of handcuffs. Iwondered vaguely if Ned made them as he needed them or had a supplytucked away in a hollow leg or something.

  There was a chair a few feet away and sitting down helped.

  Blood was all over everything and if a couple of the hoods hadn'tgroaned I would have thought they were corpses. One was, I noticedsuddenly. A bullet had caught him in the chest, most of the blood wasprobably his.

  Ned burrowed in the bodies for a moment and dragged Billy out. He wasunconscious. A big smile on his face and the splintered remains of hisnightstick still stuck in his fist. It takes very little to make somepeople happy. A bullet had gone through his leg and he never moved whileNed ripped the pants leg off and put on a bandage.

  "The spurious China Joe and one other man escaped in a car," Nedreported.

  "Don't let it worry you," I managed to croak. "Your batting averagestill leads the league."

  It was then I realized the Chief was still sitting in his chair, wherehe had been when the brouhaha started. Still slumped down with thatglazed look. Only after I started to talk to him did I realize thatAlonzo Craig, Chief of Police of Nineport, was now dead.

  A single shot. Small caliber gun, maybe a .22. Right through the heartand what blood there had been was soaked up by his clothes. I had a goodidea where the gun would be that fired that shot. A small gun, the kindthat would fit in a wide Chinese sleeve.

  I wasn't tired or groggy any more. Just angry. Maybe he hadn't been thebrightest or most honest guy in the world. But he deserved a better endthan that. Knocked off by a two-bit racket boss who thought he was beingcrossed.

  Right about then I realized I had a big decision to make. With Billy outof the fight and Fats gone I was the Nineport police force. All I had todo to be clear of this mess was to walk out the door and keep going. Iwould be safe enough.

  Ned buzzed by, picked up two of the thugs, and hauled them off to thecells.

  Maybe it was the sight of his blue back or maybe I was tired of running.Either way my mind was made up before I realized it. I carefully tookoff the Chief's gold badge and put it on in place of my old one.

  "The new Chief of Police of Nineport," I said to no one in particular.

  "Yes, sir," Ned said as he passed. He put one of the prisoners down longenough to salute, then went on with his work. I returned the salute.

  The hospital meat wagon hauled away the dead and wounded. I took an evilpleasure in ignoring the questioning stares of the attendants. After thedoc fixed the side of my head, everyone cleared out. Ned mopped up thefloor. I ate ten aspirin and waited for the hammering to stop so I couldthink what to do next.

  * * * * *

  When I pulled my thoughts together the answer was obvious. Too obvious.I made as long a job as I could of reloading my gun.

  "Refill your handcuff box, Ned. We are going out."

  Like a good cop he asked no questions. I locked the outside door when weleft and gave him the key.

  "Here. There's a good chance you will be the only one left to use thisbefore the day is over."

  I stretched the drive over to China Joe's place just as much as I could.Trying to figure if there was another way of doing it. There wasn't.Murder had been done and Joe was the boy I was going to pin it on. So Ihad to get him.

  The best I could do was stop around the corner and give Ned a briefing.

  "This combination bar and dice-room is the sole property of he whom wewill still call China Joe until there is time for you to give me arundown on him. Right now I got enough distractions. What we have to dois go in there, find Joe and bring him to justice. Simple?"

  "Simple," Ned answered in his sharp Joe-college voice. "But wouldn't itbe simpler to make the arrest now, when he is leaving in that car,instead of waiting until he returns?"

  The car in mention was doing sixty as it came out of the alley ahead ofus. I only had a glimpse of Joe in the back seat as it tore by us.

  "Stop them!" I shouted, mostly for my own benefit since I was driving. Itried to shift gears and start the engine at the same time, andsucceeded in doing exactly nothing.

  So Ned stopped them. It had been phrased as an order. He leaned his headout of the window and I saw at once why most of his equipment waslocated in his torso. Probably his brain as well. There sure wasn't muchroom left in his head when that cannon was tucked away in there.

  A .75 recoilless. A plate swiveled back right where his nose should havebeen if he had one, and the big muzzle pointed out. It's a neat ideawhen you think about it. Right between the eyes for good aiming, uphigh, always ready.

  The BOOM BOOM almost took my head off. Of course Ned was a perfectshot--so would I be with a computer for a brain. He had holed one reartire with each slug and the car flap-flapped to a stop a little waysdown the road. I climbed out slowly while Ned sprinted there in secondsflat. They didn't even try to run this time. What little nerve they hadleft must have been shattered by the smoking muzzle of that .75 pokingout from between Ned's eyes. Robots are neat about things like that sohe must have left it sticking out deliberate. Probably had a course inpsychology back in robot school.

  Three of them in the car, all waving their hands in the air like thelast reel of a western. And the rear floor covered with interestinglittle suitcases.

  Everyone came along quietly.

  China Joe only snarled while Ned told me that his name really wasStantin and the Elmira hot seat was kept warm all the time in hopes hewould be back. I promised Joe-Stantin I would be happy to arrange itthat same day. Thereby not worrying about any slip-ups with the localauthorities. The rest of the mob would stand trial in Canal City.

  It was a very busy day.

  Things have quieted down a good deal since then. Billy is out of thehospital and wearing my old sergeant's stripes. Even Fats is back,though he is sober once in a while now and has trouble looking me in theeye. We don't have much to do because in addition to being a quiet townthis is now an honest one.

  Ned is on foot patrol nights and in charge of the lab and files days.Maybe the Policeman's Benevolent wouldn't like that, but Ned doesn'tseem to mind. He touched up all the bullet scratches and keeps his badgepolished. I know a robot can't be happy or sad--but Ned _seems_ to behappy.

  Sometimes I would swear I can hear him humming to himself. But, ofcourse, that is only the motors and things going around.

  When you start thinking about it, I suppose we set some kind ofprecedent here. What with putting on a robot as a full-fledged policeofficer. No one ever came around from the factory yet, so I have neverfound out if we're the first or not.

  And I'll tell you something else. I'm not going to stay in thisbroken-down town fore
ver. I have some letters out now, looking for a newjob.

  So some people are going to be _very_ surprised when they see who theirnew Chief of Police is after _I_ leave.

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ August 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.