The Observers
Frank, that's enough."
"What do you want me to do about the girl?"
"Just as the man told you. Lay off. I'll call you tomorrow and let youknow what this thing is all about."
He hung up the phone and paced in front of his sofa for several minutes.It was inconceivable that the seven men all had the same disease, thesame gene deficiency or the same hereditary shortcomings. So his ownanswer must be much closer to the truth. He'd have to wait until morningto put it to a test. If he was right he would call Colonel Waters anddump the whole bizarre set-up right into the army's lap where itbelonged.
Again he found himself hoping he was not right, and, more important,that Paula Ralston wasn't what he was beginning to think she was.
* * * * *
Miss Conway was already in when Harry arrived at the office. He manageda half smile for her.
"Miss Conway, two of the seven men are coming back this morning and ..."
"And Mr. Boles is the one who's getting the job."
"Who called you this time?" he asked with exasperation.
"Colonel Waters."
Harry's stomach muscles contracted. "Colonel Waters?"
"That's right. When you were gone yesterday the colonel dropped in tosee you. He asked me if you were working on the replacement for GeorgeFisher ... I told him you were right on the job. And I showed him theinformation sheets you had on all seven men."
"You did what!!"
"And Colonel Waters liked the man named Boles best of all. So I guesswhen Mr. Boles comes in you can tell him the job is his."
"You nitwit!" he bellowed. "You brainless, knuckleheaded ..." He stompedinto his office, and slammed the door.
It was difficult for him to think clearly. He knew he had to make amove. And fast.
He stood by the window and gazed at the Weapons Development Centeracross the parade ground. The low gray buildings had a quiet peacefulaura about them. If it weren't for the guards marching in front of thegreat wire fences anyone might think the place was used formanufacturing can-openers, automobile parts, any one of a thousandharmless products.
But it wasn't. Weapons Development represented a vital link in thecountry's defense program. He no longer figured they were developing aweapon to counteract Soviet aggression. They were working on somethingfar more important. He was just ninety percent sure of that.
* * * * *
Mr. Boles was the first to arrive. He sat in an easy chair which Harryhad moved close to his desk in order to better observe the man.
"Mr. Boles, my secretary tells me Colonel Waters was looking at yourqualifications yesterday and was very impressed. I gather from that thatthe job is yours."
"Thank you, sir."
Harry shoved his chair closer to him. The toupee was intact. So was themustache.
"Now it'll take the government about two weeks to complete a securitycheck-up."
He could see plainly now that the man was also wearing false eyebrowsand had no beard. That did it.
"I understand, sir," Boles replied.
"So all I can tell you at the moment is that you'll be hearing from usas soon as possible." Harry got up thinking the interview was over.
Mr. Boles remained seated.
"Miss Ralston would like to see you, Mr. Payne."
"Oh, yes," Harry chuckled, "I'm going to see her this evening."
"She wants to see you now."
"Afraid I can't make it right now. I have a pile of work to do. BesidesI'm expecting another client of hers. Have to let him know he didn't getthe job."
"Mr. Chase is waiting for us downstairs in the car. You will come withme, Mr. Payne." The order was clear and firm.
Harry didn't like it. "I don't get it. What's so important that MissRalston has to see me ..."
He stopped at the sight of the gun leveled at his chest.
"When we pass your secretary's desk, you will tell her you are taking anearly lunch. I will return you in an hour if you cooperate."
Harry Payne knew better than to argue.
* * * * *
Mr. Chase was seated behind the wheel of a blue sedan. Boles and Harryclimbed into the back seat. They drove away from Fort Dickson toward thecity.
The two men remained silent during the trip. Harry had plenty of time tothink. Why this sudden move of Paula's? He must have done something tomotivate it. But what?
The only person he had talked to was Frank Barnes and he hadn't divulgedanything to him. She couldn't be sore because he had asked Frank tocheck on her. Routine investigation was part of his job. She knew that.He failed to come up with an answer. He was worried. He knew who theseven men were but he didn't know where they came from. It could havebeen any one of a million different places. Heaven only knew what kindof people they were.
The shades were drawn in Paula's apartment. There was no sign of her.But as soon as Harry entered the room he forgot about her anyway. Hisgaze rested upon the small, roundish man sitting in the contour chair,the bald man with no eyebrows and no beard.
"Please be seated, Mr. Payne." The man's tone was soft and courteous.
"Which one are you?" Harry asked.
The man was amused. "I am Mr. Thompson."
"Oh, yeah," said Harry, "you're the one who kept patting your skull.Couldn't you find one that fit you?"
Nobody was amused. Boles and Chase took positions on either side ofThompson. Their faces were drawn and sober. They resembled two bankruptmorticians.
"Where is the body beautiful?" Harry asked. "Or is she no longer thebody beautiful?"
"Take a look for yourself." It was Paula's voice. The familiarsultriness was missing.
Harry swung around to see her emerge from the bedroom. "Well, well,well! If it isn't Miss Lonelyhearts. Mind if I ask why I'm here? I meanthe gun and all?"
He had to be flippant. It was the only way he knew to conceal the terrorhe felt in their presence.
She sat beside him on the sofa. "Harry, you've disappointed me. Youhaven't been playing the game fair and square."
"If you're referring to the private eye I put on you ..."
"I'm _not_, Harry. You put him on, we took him off. Those things eventhemselves out."
Harry shrugged. "Okay, I give up. What did I do wrong?"
"Show him, Mr. Thompson." She lit a cigarette and folded her legs underher.
Mr. Thompson reached into his pocket and produced a small object. Hetossed it into Harry's lap. Harry examined it.
"Do you recognize it?" Mr. Thompson asked.
"It's a microphone," Harry replied.
"That's just what it is." Paula savagely flung her cigarette to thefloor. Her own disguise, the one concealing her true, ruthless self, wasgone. Her voice was cold and harsh. "How much do you know, Harry? Howmuch?"
Harry folded his hands, rested his full weight on the arm of the sofaand crossed his legs. "How much is it worth to you?"
Paula's hand struck with fury across his face. His cheek went numb.Blood ran from an uneven gash left by the diamond in her ring. He tookout his handkerchief and dabbed at the wound.
"You're real high class, aren't you, Paula? They don't make traitors ashigh class as you anymore."
She raised her hand and aimed for the other cheek. Thompson bolted outof his chair and grabbed her.
"I suggest you have a drink, Miss Ralston. Let us handle the rest."
Paula was furious. "He's not going to tell you anymore ..."
"We'll handle the rest!!"
* * * * *
Thompson didn't raise his voice. But there was a firmness, a deadlyconviction in his inflection. Paula went for a drink.
Harry didn't like that. Paula had a temper. He could deal with her. Butthe others ... they displayed very little emotion. He had no idea how tohandle them.
Thompson sat down again facing Harry.
"The fact is," he began gracefully, "we discovered this microphone andfour o
thers like it here in Miss Ralston's apartment. One in each room.Now we are very cautious people, Mr. Payne. We are quite certain no oneknows our whereabouts. It is logical then that the microphones have notbeen here long. Miss Ralston's only visitors are ourselves and you. Youhave known her two days. So you are the only person who knows thisapartment well enough to have planted these tell-tale devices in ahurry."
"Why should I want to plant them?"
"You took the trouble to have Miss Ralston investigated. But more thanone means of investigation produces better results. The microphones werewired to a small radio which we located in the