"Niven, Larry - ARM 1 - ARM" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry)

"No. We usually do when we lock up for the night, but I didn't have time."
Porter said, "Why?"
"The elevator was locked when we arrived," Ordaz told
Porter ruminated that. "Then the killer must have left by the roof. You'll have pictures of him."
Ordaz smiled apologetically. "That is our problem. No cars left the roof last night. Only one car arrived. That was yours, Miss Sinclair."
"But," Porter said, and he stopped.
"What happened was this," Ordaz said. "Around five-thirty this morning, the tenants in -- " He stopped to remember. " -- in 36A called the building maintenance man about a smell as of rotting meat coming through the air-conditioning system. He spent some time looking for the source, but once he reached the roof, it was obvious. He -- "
Porter pounced. "He reached the roof in what kind of vehicle?"
"Mr. Steeves says that he took a taxi from the street. There is no other way to reach Dr. Sinclair's private landing pad, is there?"
"No. But why would he do that?"
"Perhaps there have been other times when strange smells came from Dr. Sinclair's laboratory. We will ask him."
"Do that."
"Mr. Steeves followed the smell through the doctor's open door. He called us. He waited for us on the roof."
"What about his taxi?" Porter was hot on the scent. "Maybe the killer just waited till that taxi got here, then took it somewhere else when Steeves finished with it."
"It left immediately after Steeves had stepped out. He had a taxi clicker if he wanted another. The cameras were on it the entire time it was on the roof." Ordaz paused. "You see the problem?"
Apparently Porter did. He ran both hands through his white-blond hair. "I think we ought to put off discussing it until we know more."
He meant Janice. Janice looked puzzled; she hadn't caught on. But Ordaz nodded at once and stood up. "Very well. There is no reason Miss Sinclair cannot go on living here. We may have to bother you again," he told her. "For now, our condolences."
He made his exit. I trailed along. So, unexpectedly, did Drew Porter. At the top of the stairs he stopped Ordaz with a big hand around the inspector's upper arm. "You're thinking Janice did it, aren't you?"
Ordaz sighed. "I must consider the possibility."
"She didn't have any reason. She loved Uncle Ray. She's lived with him on and off these past twelve years. She hasn't got the slightest reason to kill him."
"Is there no inheritance?"
His expression went sour. "All right, _yes_, she'll have some money coming. But Janice wouldn't care about anything like that!"
"Ye-es. Still, what choice have I? Everything we now know tells us that the killer could not have left the scene of the killing. We searched the premises immediately. There was only Janice Sinclair and her murdered uncle."
Porter bit back an answer, chewed it ... He must have been tempted. Amateur detective, one step ahead of the police all the way. Yes, Watson, these gendarmes have a talent for missing the obvious ... But he had too much to lose. Porter said, "And the maintenance man. Steeves."
Ordaz lifted one eyebrow. "Yes, of course. We shall have to investigate Mr. Steeves."
"How did he get that call from, uh, 36A? Bedside phone or pocket phone? Maybe he was already on the roof."
"I don't remember what he said. But we have pictures of his taxi landing."
"He had a taxi clicker. He could have just called it down."
"One more thing," I said, and Porter looked at me hopefully. "Porter, the elevator wouldn't take anyone up unless they were on its list."
"Or unless Uncle Ray buzzed down. There's an intercom in the lobby. But at that time of night he probably wouldn't let anyone up unless he was expecting him."
"So if Sinclair was expecting a business associate, he or she was probably in the tape. How about going down? Would the elevator take you down to the lobby if you weren't in the tape?"
"I'd ... think so."
"It would," Ordaz said. "The elevator screens entrances, not departures."
"Then why didn't the killer use it? I don't mean Steeves necessarily. I mean _anyone_, whoever it might have been. Why didn't he just go down in the elevator? Whatever he did do, that had to be easier."
They looked at each other, but they didn't say anything.
"Okay." I turned to Ordaz. "When you check out the people in the tape, see if any of them shows a damaged arm. The killer might have pulled the same stunt Janice did: ruined her arm trying to turn off the generator. And I'd like a look at who's in that tape."
"Very well," Ordaz said, and we moved toward the squad car under the carport. We were out of earshot when he added, "How does the ARM come into this, Mr. Hamilton? Why your interest in the murder aspect of this case?"
I told him what I'd told Bera: that Sinclair's killer might be the only living expert on Sinclair's time machine. Ordaz nodded. What he'd really wanted to know was: Could I justify giving orders to the Los Angeles Police Department in a local matter? And I had answered yes.
* * * *
The rather simple-minded security system in Sinclair's elevator had been built to remember the thumbprints and the facial bone structures (which it scanned by deep radar, thus avoiding the problems raised by changing beard styles and masquerade parties) of up to a hundred people. Most people know about a hundred people, plus or minus ten or so. But Sinclair had only listed a dozen, including himself.
RAYMOND SINCLAIR
ANDREW PORTER
JANICE SINCLAIR
EDWARD SINCLAIR, SR.
EDWARD SINCLAIR, III
HANS DRUCKER
GEORGE STEEVES
PAULINE URTHIEL
BERNATH PETERFI
LAWRENCE MUHAMMAD ECKS