"For time when murder happened," Brubitsch said. "I was some place else." "Well, then," Malone said, "how do you know when the murders were done? They were kept out of the newspapers." That, he reflected, was quite true, since the murders had never happened. But he watched Brubitsch with a wary eye. "I know nothing about time," Brubitsch said, jerking at his collar. "I don't know when they happened." "Then how can you have an alibi?" Boyd snapped. "Because I didn't do them!" Brubitsch said tearfully. "If I didn't, then I _must_ have alibi!" "You'd be surprised," Malone said. "Now, about these murders--" "Was no murder, not by me," Brubitsch said firmly. "Was never any killing of anybody, not even by accident." "But your two friends say--" Boyd began. "My two friends are not my friends," Brubitsch said firmly. "If they tell you about murder and say it was me, they are no friends. I did not murder anybody. I have alibi. I did not even murder anybody a little bit. They are no friends. This is terrible." "There," Malone said reflectively, "I agree with you. It's positively awful. And I think we might as well give it up. After all, we don't need your testimony. The other two are enough; they'll get maybe ten years apiece, but you're going to get the chair." "I will not sit down," Brubitsch said firmly. "I am innocent. I am innocent like a small child. Does a small child commit a murder? It is ridiculous." * * * * * Boyd picked up his cue with ease. "You might as well give us your side of the story, then," he said easily. "If you didn't commit any murders--" "I am a small child," Brubitsch announced. "O.K.," Boyd said. "But if you didn't commit any murders, just what _have_ you been doing since you've been in this country as a Soviet agent?" [Illustration] "I will say nothing," Brubitsch announced. "I am a small child. It is enough." He paused, blinked, and went on: "I will only tell you this: no murders were done by our group in any of our activities." "And what were your activities?" "Oh, many things," Brubitsch said. "Many, many things. We--" The telephone rang loudly, and Malone scooped it up with a practiced hand. "Malone here," he said. Her Majesty's voice was excited. "Sir Kenneth!" she said. "I just got a tremendous burst of--static!" Malone blinked. _Is my mind acting up again?_ he thought, knowing she would pick it up. _Am I being interfered with?_ He didn't feel any different. But then, how was he supposed to feel? "It's not _your_ mind, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said. "Not this time. It's _his_ mind. That sneaky-thinking Brubitsch fellow." _Brubitsch?_ Malone thought. _Now what is that supposed to mean?_ "I don't know, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said. "But get on back to your questioning. He's ready to talk now."