each new identity went an entirely new personality. He spoke differently, walked with a distinct stride, carried head and shoulders as would the man whose character he had assumed. He pushed on without a pause in his conversation.
"There's work to be done, Collins, if you want to get the man who was responsible for your brother's death."
"You mean Hackerson?" The deputy's words were slow, but there was a thin white line around his compressed mouth.
Wentworth shook his head shortly. "Not Hackerson. I killed him less than a half-hour ago."
Collins' eyes jerked wide, then narrowed. "You're pretty open about it, Mr. Spider ," he said slowly. "How do you know I'm not going to turn you over to the police?"
"That would be a poor way to repay a friend's help," Wentworth smiled at him quietly. "And down where you come from, men usually stick by their friends."
"That's right, by God!" Collins' voice took on a rough edge. "And we remember our enemies, too!"
Wentworth glanced down at the man's fists. They were small in proportion to his size, but they would carry the enormous powers of those shoulders, that deep chest. He took in the strong face and the rumpled brown hair. Apparently, it was always like that, tousled as if from sleeping. A comb wouldn't do much to it. A woman would love to run her fingers through it . . . .
"Here's the job," Wentworth said swiftly. "I want you to offer yourself as bait to an attack by the criminals. It's pretty clear that they think you have information about the chemicals your brother devised. We'll go to Middleton together and see if we can draw their fire. Frankly, I haven't a clue to the identities of the men behind this business. I didn't want to kill Hackerson until after he had answered some questions, but he went for his gun and I had to."
Collins nodded, frowning. "That listens good to me, but I don't like to hear you say you've got no clue. As sure as you're a foot high, that guy DeHaven Alrecht has got something to do with this."
"That's one of the reasons I'm going to Middleton," Wentworth told him. "I want to have a little private conversation with that gentlemen and also with this Bill Butterworth who worked with your brother."
"Butterworth has gone away somewhere," Collins said. His eyes were thoughtful. He pulled aside the left half of his vest and tugged out a smooth-worn forty-four.
"She's a mite short," he said, spinning the chamber, "but I find she comes out quicker like this." He shoved the gun back, patted the butt. "When do we start?"
"In the morning," Wentworth told him. "In the meantime, I'd like you to identify yourself to Police Commissioner Kirkpatrick. It's possible you might be able to help him some."
Collins snapped his fingers. "By golly, I knew there was something we had to tell you," he said. "Before you busted in at Middleton, there was another guy there. You had to leave so quickly we couldn't tell you. This guy asked some questions, then seemed to get scared when Hackerson was talking about hurting us if we didn't talk. He beat it then."
Wentworth's eyes keened. "A bald man?" he asked quickly, "with a cast in his left eye?"
Collins nodded slowly, his eyes wonderingly on Wentworth's face. "I reckon you know everything, Mr. Spider ," he said slowly. "That's the guy."
"Good," Wentworth's head came up joyfully. "You and Mrs. Collins go down to the police and give them the best description you can of that man. This is the first time witnesses have been found against him. I'll come by for you in the morning and we'll go to Middleton. Maybe we'll have luck."
"Maybe," Collins agreed. He was grinning. "Say, man, I'd like to shake hands with you. You're my sort of folks, Mr. Spider. "
Wentworth gripped Collins' hand firmly. "Just call me Spider " he laughed. "Your mister sounds too formal."
Collins laughed also, strode down the hall with Wentworth. The Spider didn't wait to see Nancy. He wanted to be at police headquarters when they got there and he