Police Operation

  Produced by Greg Weeks, William Woods, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's note: This etext was produced from _Astounding Science Fiction_, July 1948. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.

  POLICE OPERATION

  BY H. BEAM PIPER

  _Hunting down the beast, under the best of circumstances, was dangerous. But in this little police operation, the conditions required the use of inadequate means!_

  Illustrated by Cartier

  * * * * *

  "... _there may be something in the nature of an occult police force, which operates to divert human suspicions, and to supply explanations that are good enough for whatever, somewhat in the nature of minds, human beings have--or that, if there be occult mischief makers and occult ravagers, they may be of a world also of other beings that are acting to check them, and to explain them, not benevolently, but to divert suspicion from themselves, because they, too, may be exploiting life upon this earth, but in ways more subtle, and in orderly, or organised, fashion._" _Charles Fort:_ "LO!"

  John Strawmyer stood, an irate figure in faded overalls andsweat-whitened black shirt, apart from the others, his back to theweathered farm-buildings and the line of yellowing woods and thecirrus-streaked blue October sky. He thrust out a work-gnarled handaccusingly.

  "That there heifer was worth two hund'rd, two hund'rd an' fiftydollars!" he clamored. "An' that there dog was just like one uh thefam'ly; An' now look at'm! I don't like t' use profane language, butyou'ns gotta _do_ some'n about this!"

  Steve Parker, the district game protector, aimed his Leica at thecarcass of the dog and snapped the shutter. "We're doing something aboutit," he said shortly. Then he stepped ten feet to the left and edgedaround the mangled heifer, choosing an angle for his camera shot.

  The two men in the gray whipcords of the State police, seeing thatParker was through with the dog, moved in and squatted to examine it.The one with the triple chevrons on his sleeves took it by both forefeetand flipped it over on its back. It had been a big brute, of nondescriptbreed, with a rough black-and-brown coat. Something had clawed it deeplyabout the head, its throat was slashed transversely several times, andit had been disemboweled by a single slash that had opened its bellyfrom breastbone to tail. They looked at it carefully, and then went tostand beside Parker while he photographed the dead heifer. Like the dog,it had been talon-raked on either side of the head, and its throat hadbeen slashed deeply several times. In addition, flesh had been torn fromone flank in great strips.

  "I can't kill a bear outa season, no!" Strawmyer continued his plaint."But a bear comes an' kills my stock an' my dog; that there's all right!That's the kinda deal a farmer always gits, in this state! I don't liket' use profane language--"

  "Then don't!" Parker barked at him, impatiently. "Don't use any kindof language. Just put in your claim and shut up!" He turned to the menin whipcords and gray Stetsons. "You boys seen everything?" he asked."Then let's go."

  * * * * *

  They walked briskly back to the barnyard, Strawmyer following them,still vociferating about the wrongs of the farmer at the hands ofa cynical and corrupt State government. They climbed into the Statepolice car, the sergeant and the private in front and Parker intothe rear, laying his camera on the seat beside a Winchester carbine.

  "Weren't you pretty short with that fellow, back there, Steve?" thesergeant asked as the private started the car.

  "Not too short. 'I don't like t' use profane language'," Parker mimickedthe bereaved heifer owner, and then he went on to specify: "I'm morallycertain that he's shot at least four illegal deer in the last year.When and if I ever get anything on him, he's going to be sorrier forhimself then he is now."

  "They're the characters that always beef their heads off," the sergeantagreed. "You think that whatever did this was the same as the others?"

  "Yes. The dog must have jumped it while it was eating at the heifer.Same superficial scratches about the head, and deep cuts on the throator belly. The bigger the animal, the farther front the big slashesoccur. Evidently something grabs them by the head with front claws,and slashes with hind claws; that's why I think it's a bobcat."

  "You know," the private said, "I saw a lot of wounds like that duringthe war. My outfit landed on Mindanao, where the guerrillas had beenactive. And this looks like bolo-work to me."

  "The surplus-stores are full of machetes and jungle knives," thesergeant considered. "I think I'll call up Doc Winters, at the CountyHospital, and see if all his squirrel-fodder is present and accountedfor."

  "But most of the livestock was eaten at, like the heifer," Parkerobjected.

  "By definition, nuts have abnormal tastes," the sergeant replied."Or the eating might have been done later, by foxes."

  "I hope so; that'd let me out," Parker said.

  "Ha, listen to the man!" the private howled, stopping the car at theend of the lane. "He thinks a nut with a machete and a Tarzan complexis just good clean fun. Which way, now?"

  "Well, let's see." The sergeant had unfolded a quadrangle sheet; thegame protector leaned forward to look at it over his shoulder. Thesergeant ran a finger from one to another of a series of variouslycolored crosses which had been marked on the map.

  "Monday night, over here on Copperhead Mountain, that cow was killed,"he said. "The next night, about ten o'clock, that sheepflock was hit,on this side of Copperhead, right about here. Early Wednesday night,that mule got slashed up in the woods back of the Weston farm. It wasonly slightly injured; must have kicked the whatzit and got away, butthe whatzit wasn't too badly hurt, because a few hours later, it hitthat turkey-flock on the Rhymer farm. And last night, it did that." Hejerked a thumb over his shoulder at the Strawmyer farm. "See, followingthe ridges, working toward the southeast, avoiding open ground, killingonly at night. Could be a bobcat, at that."

  "Or Jink's maniac with the machete," Parker agreed. "Let's go up byHindman's gap and see if we can see anything."

  * * * * *

  They turned, after a while, into a rutted dirt road, which deterioratedsteadily into a grass-grown track through the woods. Finally, theystopped, and the private backed off the road. The three men got out;Parker with his Winchester, the sergeant checking the drum of aThompson, and the private pumping a buckshot shell into the chamber ofa riot gun. For half an hour, they followed the brush-grown trail besidethe little stream; once, they passed a dark gray commercial-model jeep,backed to one side. Then they came to the head of the gap.

  A man, wearing a tweed coat, tan field boots, and khaki breeches, wassitting on a log, smoking a pipe; he had a bolt-action rifle across hisknees, and a pair of binoculars hung from his neck. He seemed aboutthirty years old, and any bobby-soxer's idol of the screen would haveenvied him the handsome regularity of his strangely immobile features.As Parker and the two State policemen approached, he rose, slinging hisrifle, and greeted them.

  "Sergeant Haines, isn't it?" he asked pleasantly. "Are you gentlemenout hunting the critter, too?"

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Lee. I thought that was your jeep I saw, down theroad a little." The sergeant turned to the others. "Mr. Richard Lee;staying at the old Kinchwalter place, the other side of Rutter's Fort.This is Mr. Parker, the district game protector. And Private Zinkowski."He glanced at the rifle. "Are you out hunting for it, too?"

  "Yes, I thought I might find something, up here. What do you think it is?"

  "I don't know," the sergeant admitted. "It could be a bobcat. C
anadalynx. Jink, here, has a theory that it's some escapee from thepaper-doll factory, with a machete. Me, I hope not, but I'm notignoring the possibility."

  The man with the matinee-idol's face nodded. "It could be a lynx.I understand they're not unknown, in this section."

  "We paid bounties on two in this county, in the last year," Parker said."Odd rifle you have, there; mind if I look at it?"

  "Not at all." The man who had been introduced as Richard Lee unslung andhanded it over. "The