[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Science Fiction December 1959.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Nothing can possibly be more baffling than
a crime in a sealed room ... but what if the
investigator happens to have an open mind?
I
I took a quick look around the apartment, even though I already knew
what I had to know.
Gordon Andrews had been slain in his sleep by the quick thrust of some
rapierlike instrument. There was no sign of any struggle. The wall
safe stood with its door open and its contents missing. Every door and
window was closed, locked, burglar-bugged, and non-openable from the
inside; the front door had been forced by the police. Furthermore, it
had been raining in wind-whipped torrents for hours, yet there was no
trace of moisture on any of the floors.
Of course no one had heard a sound, and naturally there were no
fingerprints.
Police Chief Weston spied me and snapped, "What do you make of it,
Schnell?"