Final Reckonings Read Online Free PDF

Professor."
    "Listen, Lola," whispered the gunman. "He's mine, get me? My stooge. A mechanical stooge. Good, eh?"
    The rasping chuckle filled the hollow room. Girl and robot waited for Duke to resume speaking.
    "Junior wouldn't hurt you, Lola. He's my friend, and he knows you're with me." Duke turned to the silver monster. "You wouldn't hurt Lola, would you, Junior? Remember what I told you. You like Lola, don't you?"
    "Yes. Oh, yes. I like Lola. She's pretty."
    "See?" Duke grinned. "Junior's growing up. He's a big boy now. Thinks you're pretty. Just a wolf in steel clothing, isn't that right, Junior?"
    "She's pretty," burred the robot.
    "All right. It's settled then. I'll get the car. Lola, you go upstairs. You know where the safe is. Put on your gloves and see that you don't miss anything. Then lock the doors and windows. Leave a note for the milkman and the butcher. Something safe. About going away for a couple weeks, eh? Make it snappy—I'll be back."
    True to his words, Duke returned in an hour with the shiny convertible. They left by the back entrance. Lola carried a black satchel. She moved with almost hysterical haste, trying not to glance at the hideous gleaming figure that stalked behind her with a metallic clanking noise.
    Duke brought up the rear. He ushered them into the car.
    "Sit here, Junior."
    "What is this?"
    "A car. I'll tell you about it later. Now do like I told you, Junior. Lie back in the seat so nobody will see you."
    "Where are we going, Duke?"
    "Out into the world, Junior. Into the big time." Duke turned to Lola. "Here we go, baby," he said.
    The convertible drove away from the silent house. Out through the alley they moved on a weird journey — kidnapping a robot.
    Fat Charlie stared at Duke. His lower lip wobbled and quivered. A bead of perspiration ran down his chin and settled in the creases of his neck. "Jeez," he whispered. "You gotta be careful, Duke. You gotta ." Duke laughed. "Getting shaky?" he suggested.
    "Yeah. I gotta admit it. I'm plenty shaky about all this," croaked Fat Charlie. He gazed at Duke earnestly. "You brought that thing here three weeks ago. I never bargained for that. The robot's hot, Duke. We gotta get rid of it."
    "Quit blubbering and listen to me." The thin gunman leaned back and lit a cigarette. "To begin with, nobody's peeped about the Professor. The law's looking for Lola, that's all. And not for a murder rap either—just for questioning. Nobody knows about any robot. So we're clear there."
    "Yeah. But look what you done since then."
    "What have I done? I sent Junior out on that payroll job, didn't I? It was pie for him. He knew when the guards would come to the factory with the car. I cased the job. So what happened? The guards got the dough from the payroll clerk. I drove up, let Junior out, and he walked into the factory office.
    "Sure they shot at him. But bullets don't hurt a steel body. Junior's clever. I've taught him a lot. You should have seen those guards when they got a look at Junior! And then, the way they stood there after shooting at him!
    "He took them one after the other, just like that. A couple squeezes and all four were out cold. Then he got the clerk. The clerk was pressing the alarm, but I'd cut the wires. Junior pressed the clerk for a while.
    "That was that. Junior walked out with the payroll. The guards and the clerk had swell funerals. The law had another swell mystery. And we have the cash and stand in the clear. What's wrong with that setup, Charlie?"
    "You're fooling with dynamite."
    "I don't like that attitude, Charlie." Duke spoke softly, slowly. "You're strictly small time, Charlie. That's why you're running a crummy roadhouse and a cheap hideout racket.
    "Can't you understand that we've got a gold mine here? A steel servant? The perfect criminal, Charlie — ready to do perfect crimes whenever I say the word. Junior can't be killed by bullets. Junior doesn't worry about the cops or anything like that. He doesn't have any nerves. He