Collected Fiction

by Henry Kuttner

  Just then the door swung open. Angel, in a generous effort to help, had hurled his weight against the panel, and the ancient lock gave way with a grunt. The door opened.

  RALEIGH’S quick glance back showed him a cheaply furnished room, in the center of which stood a table set for one. A partially devoured steak lay on a platter. The room was empty.

  Sweat burst out on Raleigh’s forehead. He tiptoed in. Then he stopped. His stomach hurt. Something had jabbed him there.

  “Don’t move,” said a low, deadly voice. “I mean, put up your hands. That’s right.”

  “Ug—ug—I came to rent a room,” Raleigh gasped.

  “Yeah? You don’t act surprised not to see me. I know you. Meek’s side-kick. I saw you in his office. Now turn around and get into that room if you don’t want a tunnel through you.”

  Raleigh obeyed. As he crossed the threshold, he dodged aside suddenly and cried, “Angel! Get him!”

  Nothing happened. From the table came a low grunt. The steak on the platter was vanishing in large bites. Angel wasn’t interested in crooks at the moment. It wasn’t often that he got a bone with such delectable meat on it.

  “My dinner,” said the crook bitterly, closing the door. “Oh, well. I was having a hell of a time. Kept putting the fork in my eye. This invisibility isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  A key turned in the lock and flew away to disappear, apparently into the robber’s pocket.

  “Sit down.”

  Raleigh sat down on a rickety couch. He felt unseen hands patting him.

  “No gat. Okay. How’d you find me? Never mind. I can figure it out. Rudy Brant’s no sucker.”

  “Rudy Brant, eh?”

  “Yeah. What’s your handle?” Raleigh told him. Then, summoning his courage, he went on.

  “You’d better come along quietly. I know you’ve lost the antidote. You’ve got to remain invisible—”

  “I’m glad you dropped in,” Brant interrupted. “I was going to pay you a call anyhow. This antidote—where can I get some more of it?”

  “You can’t.”

  A jolting blow rocked Raleigh’s head. He saw stars. There was a knife edge of hysteria in Brant’s voice as he snarled,

  “Don’t get smart with me, wise guy! I—feel this.” A sharp point dug painfully into Raleigh’s stomach. “Feel that shiv? I can slice you up—”

  “Don’t,” the other said faintly. “Where’s the cure?”

  “Locked in Meek’s safe. The rest of it got spilled.”

  “Yeah? That’s what you say.” The knife dug deeper.

  “It’s the truth,” Raleigh gulped. “Well—I guess so. That don’t matter. You go open that safe. I’ll be right behind you. I need the antidote—bad. I can’t go on like this.” Raleigh found it difficult to speak. “Sure, Brant. Glad to. Only—only I haven’t got the combination. Wait a minute! Don’t lose your head. Meek’s the only man who knows how to open the safe.”

  BRANT said slowly, “Where is he?”

  “In jail—for bank robbery.” There was a low chuckle. “You’re his stooge, huh? Well, get the combination from him and then open the safe. And don’t get any funny ideas. I’ll be right behind you.” The knife wiggled a bit.

  “Don’t,” Raleigh gurgled. “It tickles. I’ll do it.”

  “Now!”

  “Y—yes. Now.”

  “Well, what in hell are you waiting for?”

  Raleigh got up and went to the door. The key flashed into the lock and turned. He sighed and reached for the handle.

  A fine thing. At his heels was an invisible murderer. And one almost hysterical with fear, seemingly. Raleigh knew he was walking on quicksand. He dared not try to enlist aid. If he gave Brant the slightest reason for suspicion, it would be just too bad.

  He’d have to wait his chance. Once he got inside the jail, to see Meek, things would be different. Surrounded by steel bars, the crook would be under a handicap.

  Where was Angel? Raleigh whistled almost inaudibly, but there was no response. Probably the dog was still in the crook’s room.

  “Shut up,” said a low voice.

  “I was just—”

  “Shut up and keep moving. Get a taxi.”

  Raleigh signalled for one. He got in, and the driver reached around and slammed the door. There was a muffled cry of pain, and Raleigh felt a body fall heavily against him. Profanity sizzled.

  “Sorry, Mister,” said the driver, turning a puzzled face. “Did I catch you in the door? I coulda sworn—”

  “It’s all right,” Raleigh interrupted hastily. “The city jail. Hurry.”

  CHAPTER IV

  Angel Gabriel

  THE desk sergeant said Raleigh couldn’t see Dr. Meek. Not yet, anyway. Then he turned away to glare at a small, wizened safe-cracker with a pious expression.

  “The angels told me to bust that box,” said the little man, apparently continuing with a long and lying story.

  “Preacher Ben’s a good name for you,” the sergeant growled. “Angels—ha! You’ll have plenty of time to see angels in the big house.”

  He swung on the protesting Raleigh.

  “I said ‘no!’ Get the hell out! You can see Meek tomorrow, maybe. Now scram.”

  Raleigh felt an invisible hand nudge him away. He was thinking desperately. He had to see the scientist—there was no time to waste. At any moment Brant’s over-tense nerves might snap under the strain, and then murder would result. But how—

  Suddenly Raleigh remembered the two vials of invisibility elixir he had slipped into his pocket before leaving Meek’s home. Surreptitiously he felt for them. They were still there. His, heart leaped exultantly.

  A perfect hiding place from Brant! He’d make himself invisible; and then, in safety, he could slip into the jail and see Meek. After that, some plan could be worked out. But first of all, he had to escape from the murderous bank robber.

  How could he manage to swallow the elixir unobserved?

  There was a water cooler in the corner. Gingerly Raleigh walked toward it. His hand, hidden in his coat pocket, uncapped one of the vials. Palming the tiny tube, he took a paper cup from the container and filled it with water. Deftly he let the elixir spill into the cup.

  No sound came from Brant. Had he noticed the stratagem?

  Raleigh swallowed the water at a gulp. The familiar burning sensation raced down his gullet. Simultaneously he jumped aside, whirling.

  The little safe-cracker before the bench let out a shrill cry.

  “That guy! He’s an angel! Now he’s gone!”

  For a second the sergeant’s face was blank as he followed the prisoner’s gesture. Then it cleared.

  “Nuts,” he remarked. “He just walked out. Now—”

  “You dirty double-crossing rat!” said a high-pitched voice. “I’ll cut off your ears and make you eat ’em!”

  “Who said that?” the sergeant bellowed.

  “Angels,” the safe-cracker explained helpfully.

  Raleigh ignored the invisible Brant’s threat. The bank robber had realized the trick, but too late to do anything about it. Invisible, he couldn’t find another invisible man. Unless, Raleigh thought with a shudder, he used Angel, who was still locked up in Brant’s room.

  Well, it was necessary to work fast. Raleigh waited till the inner door was opened, and then slipped through. Quietly he made his way to the cell block.

  It didn’t take him long to find Meek, who was sitting on the edge of his bunk, methodically ripping newspapers into tiny fragments. The scientist didn’t look well in prison garments. The gleam in his eye was reptilian.

  “Dr. Meek,” Raleigh called softly.

  The prisoner looked up, frowned, and went back to his paper-tearing.

  “Doc! It’s me—Raleigh. I’m invisible.”

  THAT interested Meek. His jaw dropped. He sprang up, went to the bars and stared through.

  “Raleigh? What—”

  “Sh-h! If they hear us . . . Listen.” Swi
ftly he outlined what had happened.

  “That’s the set-up,” Raleigh finished. “Now, for God’s sake, give me the combination of the safe so I can get the antidote.”

  But Meek hesitated. “Wait a minute. You’ve still got a vial of the elixir on you?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve a better idea. Give it to me. If I’m invisible, I can get out of here.” Raleigh fumbled in his unseen pocket and brought, out the vial. Held within his palm, it was invisible. He dropped it, as he thought, into Meek’s outstretched hand.

  Cr-rack! Glass shattered on the cement floor.

  “You bungling idiot!” Meek howled. “You did that on purpose!”

  Raleigh gurgled helplessly. He made futile groping motions.

  The scientist calmed down—like a Gila monster.

  “You think I’m safer in jail, eh? I never trusted you, Raleigh! Now—”

  “There’s more of the elixir in the safe,” Raleigh suggested. “Give me the combination, quick. I’ll bring you another vial.”

  Meek breathed audibly. “And meanwhile this crook—Brant—will be invisibly snatching some of the antidote over your shoulder. Uh-huh. Once he’s visible again, he can escape for good and all—and I’ll stay here and rot. And that’ll be all right with you.”

  The scientist’s voice rose to a scream of fury.

  “Like hell! You’ll stay invisible till you get me out of this!”

  There was little point in remaining, especially since guards were appearing from all directions. Raleigh returned to the room where he had left Brant. The desk sergeant and the safe-cracker were still arguing fruitlessly about angels. There was only one other person in the room, a uniformed patrolman—unless Brant was present.

  “The angels told me to do it,” the prisoner contended. “I can open any safe in the world if they—”

  “What?” The exclamation was ripped involuntarily from Raleigh’s lips.

  “Who said that?” the sergeant roared.

  “Angels,” the prisoner remarked.

  Raleigh sent a swift glance at the outer, swinging door. Beyond it was the street. If he could somehow manage to abduct the prisoner—the safe might be opened!

  But how could he kidnap a man from the stronghold of the law?

  Raleigh stealthily neared the patrolman, who was sitting in a corner, blinking. A stolid individual, yet perhaps with some imagination. It would help. Raleigh put his mouth close to the man’s ear and whispered softly,

  “You’re going to die!”

  RESULTS were more than satisfactory. The officer turned yellow and shook in every limb. He swiveled around, saw nothing behind him and began to gurgle.

  Raleigh laughed nastily. “Down you come to hell with me,” he whispered.

  The invitation proved unacceptable. At any rate, the policeman fainted, slipping down noiselessly under the row of chairs. His absence went unnoticed.

  That left the sergeant, a somewhat tougher egg. Raleigh slipped up behind the man’s chair. Deftly he put his hands about the sergeant’s throat and squeezed, not much. Nothing happened.

  The officer remained perfectly motionless, except that he stopped talking.

  Dead silence fell over the room.

  It grew strained. Raleigh withdrew his hands. The sergeant suddenly unbuttoned his collar. He looked fixedly at his prisoner and licked dry lips.

  The invisible man began to pat the sergeant’s cheeks with his palms. Under certain circumstances, this gesture may prove pleasant—even a caress. Always assuming that the hands are . . . visible.

  Raleigh put his palms over the sergeant’s eyes. Naturally, this didn’t obscure the latter’s vision in the least. But when a gloating voice whispered, “Guess who!” the officer’s nerves crumbled with an almost audible crash.

  Shrieking, the sergeant rose and fled.

  “Angels,” said the safe-cracker, with satisfaction.

  Raleigh didn’t care whether he was nuts or not, as long as he could open safes. With one bound he leaped over the desk, seized the prisoner by neck and pants and propelled him through the door. Before the startled crook could protest, he found himself in a taxi headed uptown.

  Then Raleigh settled himself for the hysterical outburst he expected. He’d have to calm the little outlaw—explain to him, somehow, the circumstances. What had the sergeant called him?

  “Preacher Ben,” Raleigh said gently.

  Ben’s wrinkled face twisted in a smile.

  “Hello, Gabriel,” he beamed. “I expected you.”

  “But—hold on, pal. I’m not the angel Gabriel—”

  At this moment a truck rushed precariously past the front bumpers, and the driver pressed the horn button. A hoarse blast sounded.

  This occurrence confirmed Ben’s suspicion.

  “Horn and all,” he nodded. “Good old Gabriel. Where are we going?”

  Raleigh almost swore with irritation, but somehow he felt that it would be a mistake to say “Hell!” at this particular moment. Instead, he murmured,

  “I want you to open a safe for me.” Ben didn’t seem surprised. “All right, Gabe. Do you mind me calling you Gabe? I feel like we’re old friends, somehow.”

  “That’s fine,” Raleigh said, swallowing convulsively. “But about this safe—”

  “Oh, I’ll need tools. The police took mine away. But I can get them.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “I dunno. Couple of hours, maybe.”

  “Swell,” said Raleigh. “Here’s the angle. I want you to fake a robbery. I’ll show you where. I want you to open the safe and leave it open. Don’t take anything. There’s no money in it anyway. Got that?”

  “Sure,” said Preacher Ben. “Anything you say, Gabe.”

  CHAPTER V

  Defiance

  AFTER that things happened fast—but not fast enough. It took a long time to get the necessary articles for Ben. For some reason the stethoscope was the most difficult to secure. The job was finished at last, by noon the next day.

  Raleigh slipped unnoticed into the house and found Binnie, telling her of the plan.

  “Brant’s watching this place, I’m sure,” he said. “He knows I’ll need the antidote for myself, and he expects your father gave me the combination to the safe. After Ben leaves, Brant will see the safe’s open. Be sure and don’t draw the curtains in the office.”

  “Dad’s in court today,” Binnie said sadly. “A preliminary hearing or something. I’ve got to go down and see what happens.”

  Something brushed up against Raleigh’s leg. He jumped before hearing a familiar whine.

  “Angel!” he said.

  “Oh, yes. She came back.”

  The dog must have got out of Brant’s room, then. Well, that helped.

  Binnie left. Raleigh went into the office and waited. He glanced occasionally at the window, but saw nothing. Yet he felt sure that Brant was watching the house, which contained the crook’s only means of salvation.

  Glass tinkled from a distance. Raleigh flattened himself against the wall and waited. The door was swinging open . . .

  Preacher Ben walked in, smiling. His eyes lighted as he saw the safe. Without wasting a moment he came forward, opening a black bag he held.

  He knelt and extracted a stethoscope which he clamped in his ears. Ten minutes later the door of the safe swung outward.

  Obediently Preacher Ben reached in and pretended to pick up various nonexistent objects. That was for Brant’s benefit, if the crook were watching. Actually, Ben touched none of the dozens of little vials that lay scattered on the floor of the safe—which was otherwise empty.

  “Wait a minute,” Raleigh whispered, and was busy carrying out a certain plan he had worked out in detail previously. At last he stepped back and breathed,

  “Now. Shut it.”

  Ben closed the door, but didn’t lock the safe. He got up and left the room, and after that the house. He did not reappear, but it is presumed that his after-life was gladden
ed by his one encounter with the angel Gabriel.

  Meanwhile Raleigh waited. Ben had left the door ajar, unfortunately, but the chance of closing it could not be taken now. Brant might already be invisibly in the room.

  If he got away now with the antidote . . .

  Raleigh felt in his pocket for the handful of vials he had put there after the safe had been opened. That was okay. Well . . .

  He wondered how Binnie was getting on. She was in court now, watching her father. Raleigh hoped the old coot was squirming.

  He glanced sharply at the door. Had it moved, very slightly? Had Brant arrived? There was no way of telling. And Brant was—armed!

  IF the crook slipped from Raleigh’s grasp, got out of the house with the antidote, it would be impossible to find him again.

  Slowly the door of the safe opened.

  Simultaneously Raleigh snapped,

  “Sic him! Get him, Angel!”

  He dived for the door as a gun blasted, ripping plaster from the wall, just behind where he had been standing.

  Raleigh crouched on the threshold like a wrestler. There were noises coming from the safe, in the interior of which he had left Angel. Invisible man and invisible dog were having a disagreement. Suddenly a heavy weight cannoned into Raleigh, catching him by surprise despite himself.

  There was an oath in Brant’s high-pitched voice. Something exploded under Raleigh’s chin, and he was flung back. A lucky blow—but it worked.

  Brant tore free. His footsteps thudded across the carpet. The outer door was ripped open.

  Sick with the realization of failure, Raleigh raced after the escaping crook. He burst out in the blazing sunlight of the street and stood looking around helplessly. Where was the invisible man?

  Gone! Gone without a trace, amid the throngs on the sidewalk. The street was crowded at this hour.

  Raleigh’s stomach took an elevator dive. Then it halted as a familiar sound came to his ears. Angel was barking.

  Heads were turning as the disembodied barks raced past. The dog, using his nose rather than his eyes, was pursuing Brant!

  Raleigh sprinted after the sound. People went spinning as he tore into them. Cries of amazement and terror rose. A car swerved to the curb with a squealing of breaks.