“Stop it now!”
She thought that Bob was too drunk and looked too confused tomake more trouble. But before London could turn back to Oberhauser, his heavyhand grabbed hold of her collar and spun her around.
“I told you to mind your own business!” he snarled at her throughclenched teeth. “And I said there would be consequences if you didn’t!”
London froze with fear as he reached for his holster.
Is he going to shoot me? she wondered.
Right here in front of all these people?
But to her surprise, it wasn’t a gun he pulled out of hisholster. It was a black cylinder of some kind. With a snap of his wrist and aloud crack, the cylinder suddenly extended to the size of a short club.
A nightstick, London realized.
Suddenly a new theory was trying to crowd its way into her dazedbrain. She had seen a drawing … someone had described “a hard, cylindricalobject” …
Before she could make sense of it, Oberhauser had raised thenightstick high, poised to smash it into London’s head.
She didn’t have time to avoid the blow.
Then a hand shot into view and grabbed Oberhauser’s wrist.
It was Bryce, who had dashed after London into the fray, stoppingOberhauser’s intended blow with his own muscular grip.
London gasped with relief, but before she could thank Bryce shewas distracted by Sir Reggie’s furious barking and a man’s yelling voice.
“Let’s take him down, Sir Reggie!”
Like a human-sized bowling ball, Bob Turner lunged in a crouchheadfirst into Oberhauser’s abdomen. The barking dog charged right behind him.
Bryce lost his grip on Oberhauser’s wrist, and the security guardhurtled backward to the ground. The nightstick flew out of his hand, twirlingthrough the air.
London surprised herself by catching it as it descended.
By then, Sir Reggie had pounced upon the prone security guard andwas snarling furiously right in his face.
London picked up his leash and tugged her angry dog away.
“That’s enough, boy,” she said.
Looking rather pleased with himself, Sir Reggie obediently cameto her side.
With both Bob Turner and Oberhauser still on the ground in frontof them, Bryce stepped back from the confrontation.
Just then, two uniformed police officers appeared as if out ofnowhere and roughly yanked Oberhauser to his feet. Before London knew it, DetektivErlich had joined the two policemen.
It’s almost as if they were waiting and ready, shethought.
Erlich scowled at Oberhauser.
“Would you care to explain yourself, Willy?” he demanded.
Oberhauser pointed at Bob and said, “That man attacked me!”
Erlich let out a snarl of laughter.
“So it was self-defense, was it?” he asked.
“Yes!”
“So why were you going to strike this woman with your nightstick?Did she attack you too?”
Before Oberhauser could stammer out an answer, a woman in thecrowd called out, “He’s lying.”
A man agreed, “The American man didn’t attack him at all. And thewoman certainly didn’t either.”
“He just went crazy all of a sudden,” said yet another spectator.“Just like he always does.”
Erlich nodded with a smirk.
“I thought as much,” he said to Oberhauser. “In fact, I more thanhalf expected something like this to happen. I ordered my men to keep an eye onyou, which they’ve been doing for a while now.”
London struggled to make sense of what she was hearing. Why, shewondered, had Detektiv Erlich given such an order to his men?
“Consider yourself under arrest,” Erlich said to Oberhauser.
“But Detektiv—” Oberhauser began.
“No arguments,” Erlich snapped. “You’ve been caught in an act ofassault. And I think that you are also guilty of something considerably moredire than that.”
As the police put Oberhauser in restraints, something startedmaking sense to London. For quite some time, Erlich had actually suspectedOberhauser of killing Sigmund Forstmann.
And now …
She took a look at the nightstick that she still held in herhand.
The theory her brain had been struggling to hatch suddenly cameclear. She remembered the forensic drawing of the head wound that she hadthought might have been delivered by some kind of metal pipe.
“I’m sure you’re right about his guilt,” she said to Erlich. “Showme that drawing you showed me earlier—the one of the victim’s head wound.”
Erlich squinted with surprise for a moment. Then he reached forhis cell phone and brought up the picture.
“Look at that shape,” she said, pointing to the wound. “Now lookat this,” she said, holding up the nightstick.
Erlich’s eyes widened with interest.
The wound and the nightstick looked like a perfect fit.
“That doesn’t prove anything!” Oberhauser yelped frantically. “There’sno trace of evidence on it!”
Erlich looked at the stick closely. Meanwhile, Sir Reggie seemedto be intensely interested in the object. He stood up on his back legs andsniffed it with palpable curiosity.
Erlich chuckled at the dog’s interest.
“As a matter of fact, you’re right,” Erlich said to Oberhauser. “Idon’t happen to see any evidence. But this animal certainly has his suspicions.”
He took the nightstick out of London’s hand and sniffed it.
“Yes, I smell something myself. There’s much more than a trace ofdetergent here. And disinfectant—bleach, I believe.”
Looking closely at the object, Bryce pointed and said, “Lookhere. The black surface is actually faded a little from bleach.”
Erlich stared at Oberhauser for a moment.
“Tell me, Willy,” he said. “Is it your daily habit to scrub yournightstick spotless and sterile? That’s rather damning evidence in itself. It’sfairly obvious you were trying to erase any trace of how you used it to bashForstmann across the head.”
Oberhauser’s eyes bulged desperately. He was beginning to looklike a cornered animal.
He stammered in a guilty voice, “Detektiv Erlich, sir,you—you don’t understand …”
“Not yet, I don’t suppose,” Erlich said with a sardonic grin. “ButI’m sure you’ll be glad to explain it to me at the Bundenspolizeirevier.”
London recognized the word for federal police station.
“You may take him away,” Erlich said to the two officers. “I’lljoin you shortly to get the questioning underway.”
As the policemen led Oberhauser from the scene, London could hearOberhauser muttering.
“You don’t understand … You don’t understand … You don’tunderstand …”
Then Erlich turned toward London.
“I’ve got good news, Fräulein Rose,” he said in English. “I’mvery nearly ready to eliminate you and the tall woman as suspects.”
London’s mouth dropped open.
“Nearly ready?” she gasped.
“I am a meticulous man by nature,” Erlich said with a nod. “Don’tworry, I’m sure Willy’s confession will soon clear you
