STELLAR SHOWBOAT
By MALCOLM JAMESON
A drama more fantastic than any the stage
had ever produced was being plotted behind
the curtains of the Showboat of Space. And
between its presentation and inter-world
disaster, waiting for his cue, stood only
the lone figure of Investigator Neville.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1942.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Special Investigator Billy Neville was annoyed, and for more reasonsthan one. He had just done a tedious year in the jungles of Venusstamping out the gooroo racket and then, on his way home to awell-deserved leave and rest, had been diverted to Mars for a swiftclean-up of the diamond-mine robbery ring. And now, when he againthought he would be free for a while, he found himself shunted tolittle Pallas, capital of the Asteroid Confederation. But clever,patient Colonel Frawley, commandant of all the Interplanetary Police inthe belt, merely smiled indulgently while Neville blew off his steam.
"You say," said Neville, still ruffled, "that there has been a growingwave of blackmail and extortion all over the System, coupled with adozen or so instances of well-to-do, respectable persons disappearingwithout a trace. And you say that that has been going on for a coupleof years and several hundred of our crack operatives have been workingon it, directed by the best brains of the force, and yet haven't gotanywhere. And that up to now there have been no such cases develop inthe asteroids. Well, what do you want me for? What's the emergency?"
The colonel laughed and dropped the ash from his cigar, preparatory tolying back in his chair and taking another long, soothing drag. Theoffice of the Chief Inspector of the A.C. division of the I.P. was notonly well equipped for the work it had to do, but for comfort.
"I am astonished," he remarked, "to hear an experienced policemanindulge in such loose talk. Who said anything about having had thebest brains on the job? Or that no progress had been made? Or thatthere was no emergency? Any bad crime situation is always an emergency,no matter how long it lasts. Which is all the more reason why we haveto break it up, and quickly. I tell you, things are becoming veryserious. Lifelong partners in business are becoming suspicious andsecretive toward each other; husbands and wives are getting jittery andjealous. Nobody knows whom to trust. The most sacred confidences have away of leaking out. Then they are in the market for the highest bidder.No boy, this thing is a headache. I never had a worse."
"All right, all right," growled Neville, resignedly. "I'm stuck. Shoot!How did it begin, and what do you know?"
The colonel reached into a drawer and pulled out a fat jacket bulgingwith papers, photostats, and interdepartmental reports.
"It began," he said, "about two years ago, on Io and Callisto. Itspread all over the Jovian System and soured Ganymede and Europa.The symptoms were first the disappearances of several prominentcitizens, followed by a wave of bankruptcies and suicides on bothplanetoids. Nobody complained to the police. Then a squad of ourNew York men picked up a petty chiseler who was trying to gouge theJovian Corporation's Tellurian office out of a large sum of money onthe strength of some damaging documents he possessed relating to ahidden scandal in the life of the New York manager. From that lead,they picked up a half-dozen other small fry