Chapter 9.

Incompetence! Gilbert McKinnon's fist crashed down on the great mahogany table within the conference room of the club McCaw.

Nothing short of the most blazing display of incompetence this city has ever seen.

There was a chorus of assent from around the table. Chief O'Malley stood at the opposite end of the table from McKinnon, who had now

fully installed himself as the head of the committee. O'Malley's ears were red, but he had

otherwise reigned in his temper, in part because he did not wholly disagree with the condemnation

with which he had been served. You knew the test of Harrison's armored transport was a likely

target for this fiend who calls himself for viper,' McKinnon began anew.

"'And you had ample opportunity to defend it against attack. And yet here we are with another of the city's great industries near the brink of collapse.'

Quincy Harrison, smaller than ever within his tweeds, seemed to shrink still more at this, but he did not disagree.

And before our young friend, Mr. Fenwick, can leap forward with another defense based solely on

your inability to thwart a different criminal madman, McKinnon raised his hand dismissively towards

August Fenwick, who had not moved or spoken, let me say that I consider that to be no sort of excuse at all, O'Malley,

though perhaps it is a sure sign that what our city needs most is a new chief of police.'

At this, O'Malley's clipped military-style mustache bristled, but a small, tight smile appeared beneath it.

"'Perhaps it is, Mr. McKinnon, O'Malley said calmly.

Perhaps it is.

And if there is a man at this table who can tell me precisely what I or my police force

could have done differently to save Harrison's machine, I will gladly recommend him for the

position.

It is true that my force is stretched thin by the panic caused by these terrible attacks of Captain Clockwork's mechanical army,

but I failed to see how a greater police presence could have prevented this explosion.

...