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datatime: 2022-12-05 19:47:52 Author:WaTNRAUN

The police said the Countess. Then you need head protection. She kicked the door shut behind her and right in front of Simmons took the hypnohelmet out of the square shopping bag.

The grim pound of her boots halted before an apartment house that bore the number 352. It was not a shabby apartment house: Miss Simmons must have some income of her own. There was no doorman, but the brass mailboxes shone. And there it was, right there on number 21, the nameplate:

Good, I said and clicked off. Oh, Countess Krak, you've been outsmarted for once and you won't even be able to trace it to me It's a long ways from the Civic Center to Morningside Heights, but the police drive over everybody.

Miss Simmons was having trouble locating the Countess to talk to her. The Countess must have seen that she was speaking to someone who was as blind as a bat.

I suddenly realized that I still had Simmons' glasses in my pocket. Unwittingly, I had made it very easy for Krak.

She turned down a carpeted hall and stopped before Apartment 21.

I suddenly realized that I still had Simmons' glasses in my pocket. Unwittingly, I had made it very easy for Krak.

The brass grate spoke up. Yes?

The Countess Krak regarded the foyer door. It kept clicking and she didn't know you were supposed to push it when it clicked. It stopped clicking. She gave it a shove, a very impatient gesture. The lock was faulty. It swung right open.

Miss Jane Simmons

The brass grate spoke up. Yes?

Oh, blind, blind Simmons

She strode past a fountain and between two statues. She saw the elevator was in use and went up the stairs.

The Countess simply turned the helmet on and dropped it over Simmons' head

Good, I said and clicked off. Oh, Countess Krak, you've been outsmarted for once and you won't even be able to trace it to me It's a long ways from the Civic Center to Morningside Heights, but the police drive over everybody.

Good, I said and clicked off. Oh, Countess Krak, you've been outsmarted for once and you won't even be able to trace it to me It's a long ways from the Civic Center to Morningside Heights, but the police drive over everybody.

She turned down a carpeted hall and stopped before Apartment 21.

Oh, blind, blind Simmons

Miss Simmons was having trouble locating the Countess to talk to her. The Countess must have seen that she was speaking to someone who was as blind as a bat.

Police Inspector Grafferty was quivering like a bloodhound. I talked it up as a private inside tip. He said he could smell the headlines already. Eager. I caught him at the Civic Center and he's just now locating squad cars. He won't fail you.

Police Inspector Grafferty was quivering like a bloodhound. I talked it up as a private inside tip. He said he could smell the headlines already. Eager. I caught him at the Civic Center and he's just now locating squad cars. He won't fail you.

Have you done your duty? I said.

The voice came back, It's about time somebody listened to me

There was a wide bed, a boudoir table and an easy chair, all decorated in frilly white organdy. The Countess Krak closed the bedroom door. She lowered Simmons onto the bed. She arranged the pillow so it would support the helmet properly. She plugged in her microphone and then sat down in the easy chair.

The grim pound of her boots halted before an apartment house that bore the number 352. It was not a shabby apartment house: Miss Simmons must have some income of her own. There was no doorman, but the brass mailboxes shone. And there it was, right there on number 21, the nameplate:

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