A werewolf among us

moment later and came back with a stainless steel back-scratcher. It was formed like a human hand, with five blunt fingers.
    "Turn around and I'll get it for you."
    He smiled and took the tool out of her hand. "I'll do it myself."
    "Of course," she said, "I forgot. I might try to beat you with it, knock you out or something like that."
    "Something like that," he agreed.
    She was angry, but she did not go away. She folded her arms under her full breasts, making them fuller, and leaned against the edge of the table. Even now, during this penultimate moment, he could not help but want her.
    Re-direct your attention.
    St. Cyr reached over his shoulder with the silvery tool and began clawing at his back below the bandages. He shivered as relief flooded over the affected area. And that abruptly, he knew who the killer was.
    Impossible suspect.
    He held the back-scratcher up before his face and looked at the tiny hand with the hooked fingers. He had no doubt at all that he was right, though it would be necessary to do a little breaking and entering to find the evidence he needed.
    There will be no evidence. You suspect the wrong person.
    No.
    Let me feed you the data that cancels out your newest supposition
. And, without his permission, it did just that, ran tapes that refuted the possibility of his suspicions in the minutest of detail.
    Still, St. Cyr thought, hesitating now…
    You are wrong.
    He put the back-scratcher down. I guess I am, he thought.
    He could not possibly be a killer.
    For a few minutes the detective sat on the edge of the table, completely detached from everything except his new theory. The bio-computer had effectively disproved the possibility that he was still toying with, and yet…
    Impossible.
    Despite the wealth of data that the other half of the symbiote had fed him to the contrary, St. Cyr slowly became certain, once again, that he was right and the bio-computer was wrong. He was elated, felt light as air, energetic as he only was when he knew that he was on top of a solution.
    To progress on feeling alone is illogical.
    He stood and said, "I'm leaving the room for a few minutes."
    "To go where?" Jubal asked.
    "I want to look around a bit, collect a few pieces of evidence thai I'm fairly sure I'm going to find." He looked at each of them, slowly, one-by-one, giving the bio-computer a chance to supply him with some suspect different than the one that he was now so certain of. Jubal… Alicia, looking more frightened than anyone else… Dane staring with disbelief, still
clinging to the batch of superstitions he thought was the only answer to the affair… Hirschel, watchful but not unsettled, almost smiling… Tina standing beside him, so innocent and attractive… But the bio-computer could not produce any viable alternative. St. Cyr told them: "I believe I know who killed the others."
    Jubal was on his feet an instant later. "Good God, man, tell us who it was!"
    "Not yet. I want to be sure of everything before I make any accusations. Give me twenty minutes or half an hour to look around."
    "You don't mean that you're leaving us here alone, without any weapons?" Jubal asked, incredulous.
    "That's best."
    The old man was in a cantankerous mood again. Sitting there with nothing to do but brood for almost an hour, something he had probably never done before, he had put himself quite on edge. "I won't permit—"
    "You haven't any choice," the cyberdetective said. He quickly crossed the room, opened the door, stepped into
the corridor, and let the door shut behind him before anyone else could object—including the bio-computer, which had almost gotten to him once before.
    "Mr. St, Cyr?" Teddy asked, looming suddenly out of the dark hall. His sight receptors glowed like cat's eyes. "Is something wrong?"
    "Nothing's wrong," St. Cyr said. "In fact, I think I know which one of them did it."
    Nothing could shock the master unit; he had no capacity for genuine surprise or outrage. He said, "Do you require any assistance in the apprehension, Mr. St. Cyr?"
    "Thank you, Teddy, but not just yet. I have some prowling to do first, to be sure my suspicions are right."
    "I'll help with that, if you want."
    "You can help most by standing guard right here and making certain that none of them leave that room."
    "I'll do that, sir." Efficient. Polite. Obedient. And just about as human as anyone in this strangely cool Alderban family.
    "Excellent I'm going up to the fourth level, and I'll be back in about half an