Tek Kill Read Online Free PDF

few unimportant minutes. If you look at time from a non-human perspective, why—”
    â€œWe are on sort of a tight schedule,” added Molly. “We hoped just to pop in and out of Background & ID, consult you, and depart.”
    The robot, who was in charge of this sector of the SoCal Police Academy’s information center, invited, “What say we get rolling, then?”
    â€œI’ll give you the descriptions I got from my friend, Rex, and you see what you can do. Okay?”
    â€œNot necessary with this new, improved imager, kiddo.” Rex pointed a large metallic forefinger at the small holostage that rested on the table in front of him. “Just speak the details. It’ll do the rest.”
    Molly, nodding and clearing her throat, took a few steps closer to the table. She began by reciting the details that Susan Grossman had given her about the short red-haired man whom she’d seen in her vision when her brother had been killed.
    When Molly concluded, the coppery robot requested of the gadget, “Let’s see a visual, chum.”
    On the platform a doll-size image popped into being. It was a three-dimensional projection of an undersized redheaded man.
    â€œThat the gink?” asked Rex/GK-30.
    â€œI never actually saw him,” reminded Molly. “But Sue gave me fairly detailed descriptions of both the—”
    â€œPerhaps we ought,” suggested the robot, “to sneak this Sue frail in here so she can get a firsthand look-see.”
    â€œShe’s not able to leave home right now.”
    â€œProstrated with grief, huh?”
    Dan said, “No, too loony to be allowed to run around loose.”
    â€œWe could vidphone her,” offered Rex. “I can transmit this image over the—”
    â€œThat’s not possible, either,” put in Molly. “But why don’t we get a tentative identification of people who fit this description? Then maybe I can show the photos to her.”
    â€œPossible makes,” the robot told the projection device.
    All at once a shrill bleating sound came from the voxbox at the base of the ID stage.
    The image of the possible killer faded, to be replaced by the figure of a very similar red-haired man. But this time he was stretched out, naked, on a white metal table with a gray plyosheet half covering him.
    â€œSalten, Leroy M.,” droned the voxbox. “Matches prior simulation in seventeen of twenty ID points.”
    â€œDetails on this stiff,” urged the big copper-plated robot.
    The metallic voice continued, “Leroy M. Salten was found at 6:14 this morning beneath Fun Pier 12 in the Long Beach Sector of Greater Los Angeles. He had been shot twice in the back with a standard lazgun. It is estimated that Salten had been dead for approximately two hours. Do you require a printed copy of his criminal record?”
    â€œYep,” answered Rex. “And some pix.”
    â€œAlive or dead?”
    â€œBoth.”
    Dan touched Molly’s hand. “Now I’m wondering.”
    â€œAbout what?” she asked.
    He indicated the image of the dead man. “Your friend Sue Grossman thought she saw a mystical vision of a fellow who looked a lot like the guy that killed her brother,” he said slowly. “And then—what? About four or so hours after that this same fellow is knocked off over in the Long Beach Sector. Logic tells me she couldn’t have seen a picture of this guy in her head, but I don’t know how else to explain it.”
    â€œLeroy Salten has to be one of the two men Sue saw in her vision,” said Molly, convinced. “There’s simply no other way she could’ve known about him.”
    â€œCoincidence?” offered the robot.
    â€œHooey,” replied Molly.
    â€œHoax?”
    â€œNuts.”
    Dan, frowning, shook his head. “The trouble is, I don’t believe in telepathy.”
    â€œYou’re,” advised Molly,