Free The Avenger 35 - The Iron Skull by Kenneth Robeson

of snow smacked his gun hand and caused him to let go the weapon.
    Smitty jumped. He slugged the surprised doctor twice before he could even shake the snow off himself.
    Steinbrunner fell.
    Picking up the .38, Smitty said, “Now I think I’ll do a little nosing around myself.”

CHAPTER XIX

In the Dark
    Josh was seated in a wing chair near the table lamp.
    A door opened, and the Iron Skull came roiling into his parlor-like den, followed by Cole.
    “Hi, Cole,” said the black man, “what’s going on exactly?”
    Cole looked away, not replying.
    The Iron Skull said, “Mr. Wilson has accepted my generous offer to work for me henceforward.”
    “Oh, yeah?” said Josh. “And who the hell are you?”
    “I am the Iron Skull.” From within the jacket of his military-cut suit he drew a .32 revolver. “This will be sufficient for the purpose, Wilson.” He handed him the gun.
    “Stop me if I’m being uppity,” said Josh, “but I got a feeling things don’t look so good for me.”
    Taking the gun, Cole said, “I . . . I’m sorry, Josh . . . but it’s either me . . . or you . . . and . . .”
    The Negro said, “I get the picture, Cole. Can’t say I’d do the same thing myself, but then you ain’t me.”
    “I’m sorry . . .”
    “Enough sentimental slurp,” said the Iron Skull. “Kill him!”
    Cole raised the pistol.
    Josh stayed in his chair, hands folded, waiting.
    “Too much light in here,” said Cole suddenly and aimed the pistol at the table lamp. He pulled the trigger.
    The hammer clicked on an empty chamber.
    A dry clacking sound came out of the Iron Skull’s throat. It was laughter. “Not quite the test you expected, eh, Wilson?” he said.
    Cole broke the barrel and looked into the chambers. “No bullets,” he discovered.
    “If you’d pretended to shoot him you might have fooled me,” said the Iron Skull. “Since you decided to try to shoot out the lights and make a break for it, you have betrayed yourself.”
    “A miscalculation on my part.”
    “And a shame, really,” said the Iron Skull. “I would very much like to work with one of your abilities, Wilson.”
    “Well, maybe the next time you have a recruiting drive.”
    Running his flesh fingers over the back of his metal hand, the Iron Skull said, “I may actually give you one more chance, Wilson. For now, I will return you to your apartments.” He went rolling over to pull the tasseled bell cord. “Nice to have met you, Mr. Newton.”
    “Likewise, I’m sure,” said Josh.

    “What is he?” said Josh in the darkness of his cell.
    “You mean besides stark raving mad?” said Cole, who was close to the bars which separated him from his teammate’s cell.
    “Yes, what . . . I mean, is he a robot?”
    “Partly,” replied Cole in the dark. “It turns out the rumors of the death of Ulrich Blau-Montag, boy wizard of electronics and robotics, were greatly exaggerated.”
    “That’s who he is, huh?”
    “So he says,” said Cole. “Apparently there was a serious accident, which tore him apart. I have the idea it damaged his brain, too. At any rate, being a handy chap with the screwdriver and hacksaw, our hero rebuilt himself and replaced his missing parts with metal and wires. He’s as close to a self-made man as we’re likely to run into in our lifetimes, lad.”
    “I sensed from his conversation that said lifetimes ain’t going to be noted for length.”
    “We’re not on the Iron Skull’s best-friends list, no.”
    Josh said, “He made them robots we saw out at the syrup works, didn’t he?”
    “Right you are, with some aid from his staff, a clutch of all-thumbs buffoons, to hear him tell it.”
    “Yeah, but they looked completely human, down to having very real-seeming skin,” said Josh. “How come he still looks like he got mixed up with the insides of a refrigerator and Aunt Minnie’s old hot-water heater?”
    “I’m glad you asked me that,” said Cole, “since it gives me a chance to use my knowledge