you say, how come
he was able to attack Mister Vaneski?"

"Ah, but did he? Think back, Pete. Mellon--dying or already dead--had
been propped upright in that narrow locker. When it was opened, he
started to _fall_ out--straight toward the man who had opened the
locker, naturally. Vaneski jumped back and shot before Mellon even hit
the floor. Isn't that right?"

"Sure, sure," Jeffers said slowly. "I reckon I'd've done the same thing
if he'd started to fall out toward me. I wasn't even lookin' when the
locker was opened. I didn't turn around until that stun gun went
off--then I saw Mellon falling."

"Exactly. No matter how it may have looked, Vaneski couldn't have killed
him with the stun gun, because he was already either dead or so close to
death as makes no difference."

Ensign Vaneski rather timidly raised his hand. "Excuse me, sir, but you
said this killer was waiting for you outside your room when the lights
went out. You said you knew it wasn't Snookums because Snookums smells
of hot machine oil, and you didn't smell any. Isn't it possible that an
air current or something blew the smell away? Or--"

Mike shook his head. "Impossible, Mister Vaneski. I woke up when the
door slid open. I heard the last dying whisper of the air conditioners
when the power was cut. Now, we know that Snookums tore out those
switches. He's admitted it. And the evidence shows that a pair of waldo
hands smashed those switches. Now--_how could Snookums have been at my
door within two seconds after tearing out those switches_?

"He couldn't have. It wasn't Snookums at my door--it was someone else."

Again they were all silent, but the question was on their faces: Who?

"Now we come to the question of motive," Mike continued. "Who among you
would have any reason to kill me?

"Of the whole group here, I had known only Captain Quill and Commander
Jeffers before landing in Antarctica. I couldn't think of any reason for
either of them to want to murder me. On the other hand, I couldn't think
of anything I had done since I had met the rest of you that would make
me a target for death." He paused. "Except for one thing." He looked at
Jakob von Liegnitz.

"How about it, Jake?" he said. "Would you kill a man for jealousy?"

"Possibly," said von Liegnitz coldly. "I might find it in my heart to
feel very unkindly toward a man who made advances toward my wife. But I
have no wife, nor any desire for one. Miss Crannon"--he glanced at
Leda--"is