The Shadowers (7 page)

I said, “She won’t talk, sir. I’ll bet money on it. But if you want to put a local man to watching her, okay. He can at least see that nobody bothers her again.”

Mac hesitated. “You seem to have been impressed by this young girl, Eric.”

I glanced at the mean-looking hombre in the mirror.

I said, “Hell, I threw her to Kroch deliberately, as it turned out. I just feel kind of responsible for her now. She’s a good kid.”

“Good or bad, a little surveillance won’t harm her. And it may give us advance warning in case she doesn’t live up to your high expectations. Now what about the man?” I glanced at my watch. Not as much time had passed as I’d thought. I told myself Mariassy was safe enough if she followed instructions. Unlike Toni Vail, she knew she was involved in a dangerous game. If she stuck her neck out contrary to orders, it was her own damn fault.

“Karl Kroch?” I said. “I only saw him once. As I told you, sir, he’s got the earmarks of a pro. And he does a real smooth job of tailing for such a big man: you’d never know he was there. But he talks too much. All that stuff he told Toni, including his name, for God’s sake! And his warning to me that he’s going to act when the time comes and to hell with me. That’s schoolboy stuff. Either he’s a screwball with delusions of grandeur who really thinks he can scare me off by roughing up girls, or he’s deliberately putting out a lot of phony bluster and playing a real cagey game underneath. But if so, what is it?”

Mac said, “It’s possible he’s being clever, of course. However, you know how those big hard men sometimes get after years of success in the business. They start thinking the rules are not for them—they don’t have to be careful like lesser agents; they can run right over any opposition. They are superhuman and practically invisible, they think. Shortly thereafter they are either killed or put away quietly to dream their Napoleonic dreams in locked and padded rooms. Mr. Kroch seems to be displaying most of the symptoms.”

“Maybe,” I said, unconvinced. “But I never like to act on the assumption that a man is crazy until I actually see him foaming at the mouth, sir.”

“He seems to have worked up a pretty good lather tonight,” Mac said, “judging by the Vail girl’s report. And we can be glad of it. His behavior gives us a chance of retrieving what might have been a complete disaster. Under ordinary circumstances, once he spotted you, a man in Kroch’s position would simply have disappeared and notified his superiors to send in an unknown replacement. As it is, overconfident, he apparently intends to stay right on the job covering Dr. Mariassy in spite of you. He has even served notice that if he gets the signal to act he will execute it right under your nose. As a result of this bravado, he is still available to you if you act quickly, before he has time to reconsider.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “That’s another reason I decided to speed up the romance time table.”

Mac was silent for a moment. “Since Kroch already has you spotted, there would seem to be hardly any reason left for the amateur theatrics.”

“We’ve got to be doing something plausible while we’re getting him out of town to where we can take him,” I said. “I don’t know New Orleans well enough to pull anything here; I’d probably wind up behind bars. And Kroch is acting very funny and kind of obvious, as if he were really trying to draw attention to himself. What if there’s somebody else to do the dirty work, and big, blustering, loudmouthed Kroch is just a decoy?”

“In that case, the other agent will have been warned about you by Kroch. Your performance with Dr. Mariassy will not deceive him, either. And we are not interested in identifying every possible agent involved. All we want is one man who will talk. One man who will lead us to Taussig.”

I said, “God knows I’m not yearning to get drunk and disorderly with our tweedy intellectual, sir, let alone marry her, even in name only. But until I know exactly what’s going on, I’d rather stick to the original plan with minor modifications. It may still fool somebody, who knows?” “Well, maybe you’re right,” Mac conceded. “On second thought, it’s never wise to drop a cover hastily, particularly when the opposition is acting in a peculiar manner. Very well, I—” He stopped. I heard a phone ringing in the upstairs office some fifteen hundred miles to the north and east of where I sat. “Just a minute. This is probably the call we’re waiting for.”

I sat on the bed and looked at the wall and thought about a small, hurt, disheveled girl lying face down on a rumpled bed in a wrecked room. Then I thought of a burning car and a shape under a blanket and a single silver slipper. I heard Mac pick up the phone. When he spoke, his voice held a note of urgency.

“Eric.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We cannot reach Dr. Mariassy. She has ostensibly retired and left orders at the hotel desk to the effect that she is not to be disturbed. Without causing comment, it wasn’t possible to determine by phone whether the voice that gave the orders was male or female.”

“Oh, Jesus!” I said. “I knew I should have gone straight to her. Well, to hell with the meet-cute act, I’m on my way.”

Olivia Mariassy had a room on the third floor, two below mine. I used the stairs. Nobody seemed interested in where I was going. Nobody seemed to be hanging around the corridor in front of number 310, either. I had the feeling I was in the clear, but I didn’t take time to make sure. I just went right up to the door and knocked.

A feminine voice responded promptly. “Who is it?”

I drew a long breath. I guess I’d been really worried. After a moment of relief, I started to get angry. Our tame scientist was still alive and, from the calm sound of her voice, unharmed, but apparently she expected me to shout my name and business through the panels; and what the hell was the idea of having the desk refuse to call her, anyway?

“The password is flattop,” I said softly, “like in aircraft carrier.”

“Oh.”

There was a little pause; then the door opened. She was still fully dressed in her tweed suit. Her only concession to the lateness of the hour was that she’d unbuttoned her jacket. She was fastening it up again primly as she stood there. She even had her shoes on, although I would have been willing to bet she hadn’t had them on a minute earlier. No woman, no matter how intellectual and proper, sits and reads late at night in high heels.

That’s what she’d been doing when I knocked: reading. A light burned over the big chair in the corner, and she was holding a fat book with her forefinger marking the place. The title, I noted, was
The Algebra of Infinity,
whatever that might mean.

Standing there facing me she looked, I thought, like a not unhandsome spinster librarian about to ask me sternly why I couldn’t get into the habit of returning my books on time.

“What are you doing here?” was what she really asked. “I mean, is this wise, Mr. Corcoran? After all, we’re not supposed to be acquainted yet, are we? That abortive incident in the bar hardly constituted an adequate introduction.”

“Are you all right?” I asked, watching her face. “Are you alone in there?”

She looked startled first and then indignant. “Alone? Of course I’m alone! What do you mean?”

I relaxed. It was obvious from her behavior that nobody was holding a gun on her from a hidden corner and telling her what to say. I pushed past her. The room was empty. So were the closet and bathroom. I came back to face her and reached out to shove the hall door closed.

“Now,” I said, “what’s the big idea, Doc?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean the phone bit. We tried to reach you. No go. Somebody had told the desk you didn’t want to be disturbed. Naturally, knowing that under the circumstances—particularly after the bar scene—you’d be much too smart to cut yourself off from us, in fact you’d be waiting for me to call, we got just a little concerned.”

Her hand went to her mouth, ingénue fashion. It was an oddly girlish gesture for a woman with her severe appearance. “Why, I never thought! I guess I’m not a very good secret agent, Mr. Corcoran. I’m terribly sorry. I just... well, it was a personal matter. Somebody with whom I didn’t want to speak.”

“Personal,” I said. “This is a hell of a time for personal matters, Doc.”

“People with medical degrees rarely like to be called Doc, Mr. Corcoran.” She was her stiff, precise self once more. “And you are hardly in a position to criticize, after the way you left our business unfinished this evening to chase after that child in pink—leaving me, I must point out, in a very humiliating position. I remember your saying on the ship that you ran after women, but I didn’t realize it was compulsive!”

I stared at her. “You don’t think I went off with the kid for fun, for God’s sake!”

“What else could I think?” Her voice was cold. “And I must say I’m disappointed in your taste, Mr. Corcoran. That shiny little dress, so tight, so short, so bare. Why do the little tarts all feel it’s charming to overflow their clothes like that, all arms and legs and naked shoulders?”

I said, “Never mind my taste, or hers. That little tart, as you call her, has just been beat up and raped because of us. You might keep it in mind while you criticize her clothes. You might also keep it in mind the next time you feel like shutting off your phone for personal reasons. This isn’t a friendly rubber of bridge, you know. Just what were your personal reasons?”

“I told you. Just somebody I didn’t want bothering me with calls.” She wasn’t thinking of this at all. She was looking at me with shock and disbelief. “
Raped
?”

“It’s a technical term for sexual intercourse achieved by violence. Just who is this guy you don’t want to talk to?”

“Never mind,” she said evasively. “It’s a private matter. It has nothing to do with this. Why was the girl... raped?”

“Apparently as a gesture of spite and defiance,” I said. “I was using her to create a diversion and somebody saw through it and took this way of telling me what he thought of my tricks. Anyway, that’s one explanation. There may be others.”

Olivia was frowning. “Then you didn’t leave me just because—” She stopped.

“Just because I suddenly got hot pants for the kid? Not exactly,” I said. “We were being watched, Doc, by a man who wasn’t buying what we were selling. I thought I could confuse the issue, but the idea backfired.”

“Then... then I owe you an apology.”

“I’d rather have some dope on this guy who’s been pestering you on the phone.”

She shook her head. “I assure you, it’s completely irrelevant, Mr. Corcoran. You say we are being watched? Well, that’s what we hoped, isn’t it? That was the reason for the great dramatic effort. So you’ve already identified the man we’re after?”

“Yes, I’ve identified him,” I said grimly. “The only trouble is, he’s identified me, too. He’s behaving very peculiarly, however, so until we get him figured out we’ll go right on with the show as if nothing had happened.” I looked at her for a moment. It was obvious that she had no intention of answering questions and we were wasting time, so I said, “I’m leaving now. The sooner I get out of here the better; maybe we can still salvage this act. You will lock your door and call the desk right away and tell them to put through any calls. Then you will give me twenty minutes to check around outside and get set to watch over you properly. If I call in the meantime and tell you to stay put, you will stay put come hell or high water. You will not open to anyone who doesn’t give this knock.” I rapped lightly on the back of a chair, three and two. “You will not leave this room for anyone who gives you instructions over the phone, regardless of who they claim to be. If it takes a week, you’ll wait right here until somebody comes along who gives the proper knock. You’ve got water in the bathroom and people have lived for months without food, I’m told. Do I make myself clear?”

She licked her lips. “All right, Mr. Corcoran. And if you don’t call, what do I do when the twenty minutes are up?”

I told her. She didn’t like it, but my shocking news and the fact that she’d misjudged me had apparently rattled her, and she didn’t protest very hard. I went out and waited until I heard the lock set behind me; then I went down to a pay phone and called Mac to let him know no female scientists had been lost or damaged. I told him how the situation stood. Then I made a check of the premises and found no sign of Kroch, which didn’t necessarily mean anything. He seemed to be good at leaving no sign when he didn’t want any left.

Olivia came out of her room in exactly twenty minutes by the clock. There was something to be said for working with scientific personnel after all. I watched her descend the stairs and cross the lobby, gave her a minute or two in the lounge, and went in after her.

She’d taken the table I’d had earlier, over by the wall. I hesitated, discovering her there, and went over.

“Well, did you ever learn how long it took, ma’am?” I asked.

She looked up, startled, and frowned at me in a puzzled way. “How long?”

“The bar. To go around.”

“Oh,” she said quickly. “Oh, you’re the man... I didn’t recognize you.”

“I was sorry to have to run off like that, earlier, but I saw somebody I didn’t know was in town. Do you mind if I sit down, ma’am?”

“Why,” she said, “why no. Not at all. Please do.”

“We could clock it now,” I said. “That fat man. We can see how long it takes before he gets back in front of us. Let me get you a drink...”

Well, you can take it from there. We went through the standard getting-acquainted routine. I trotted out the story of my coming from Denver and being a newspaperman there, and she told me about coming from Pensacola and doing something scientific and secret she wasn’t allowed to talk about. She could, however, tell me, she said, if I was interested, about some phenomena she’d encountered in her work that weren’t classified. Take weightlessness, for instance...

A couple of drinks later we were still talking weightlessness. “Of course, now that we’ve actually put men into space, we no longer have to simulate this particular situation, we can study it in actual practice,” she said. She remembered something and looked up quickly. “Oh, damn, our fat man is gone! The experiment is ruined, I’m afraid, Mr. Corcoran.”