“You know, the way you’ve put it, the thing’s still pretty fishy.”
“In what manner?”
“Dr. Egavine finished off old Farous, didn’t he?”
“He may have,” Dasinger conceded. “It would be impossible to prove it now. You can’t force a man to testify against himself. It’s true, of course, that Farous died at a very convenient moment, from Dr. Egavine’s point of view.”
“Well,” she said, “a man like that wouldn’t be satisfied with half a salvage fee when he saw the chance to quietly make away with the entire Dosey Asteroids haul.”
“That could be,” Dasinger said thoughtfully. “On the other hand, a man who had committed an unprovable murder to obtain a legal claim to six million credits might very well decide not to push his luck any farther. You know the space salvage ruling that when a criminal act or criminal intent can be shown in connection with an operation like this, the guilty person automatically forfeits any claim he has to the fee.”
“Yes, I know . . . and of course,” Miss Mines said, “you aren’t necessarily so lily white either. That’s another possibility. And there’s still another one. You don’t happen to be a Federation detective, do you?”
Dasinger blinked. After a moment he said, “Not a bad guess. However, I don’t work for the Federation.”
“Oh? For whom do you work?”
“At the moment, and indirectly, for the Dosey Asteroids Company.”
“Insurance?”
“No. After Farous died, Dosey Asteroids employed a detective agency to investigate the matter. I represent the agency.”
“The agency collects on the salvage?”
“That’s the agreement. We