He dropped to the floor, coughed, and got to his feet. Immediately the acrid piercing sting of the gas invaded his nostrils and brought tears to his eyes. He felt light-headed. The antidote isn’t working, he thought, and fell to his knees. He was gasping for breath. He looked up at the equipment, the tanks above him.
He was very dizzy. He injected more antidote. And then suddenly he was all right. His mouth was dry and he was still light-headed, but he was all right. He got to his feet and moved towards the tanks. At every moment he expected to hear the ominous hiss and sizzle of the releasing gas, but it never came. He stood in the centre of the room, with the wires and cords all across the floor at his feet and the white gas drifting gently out the broken window.
He disengaged the first valve mechanism, unhooking the solenoid trip wire. Then the other mechanism. And then he sighed.
It was done.
The mechanism could not release the gas; the tanks were isolated. He relaxed, blinked his aching eyes, swallowed dryly, and checked his watch. 4:49. It hadn’t even been close.
`Graves!’
That was Nordmann, shouting to him from the floor above. Graves went to the window and looked up.
`You all right?’
Graves tried to talk, but a hoarse, dry croak came out. He nodded and waved instead.
`Can’t talk?’
Graves shook his head.
`That’s the effect of the antidote,’ Nordmann said. `You’ll be okay. We want to come down. Can you open that door for us?’
Graves nodded.
`Okay. We’ll come down.’
Graves opened all the other windows in the apartment, then went back to the centre of the room and crouched over the three metal boxes. One was a timer; one was a battery; the third, when he turned it over, was a hollow shell, empty inside. He stared at it and shook his head. Another diversion – but it didn’t matter now.
He went to the door and looked closely at the vibration sensors. They were just rubber suction cups from a toy bow-and-arrow set, with some wires attached. Totally phoney. He sighed.
Nordmann called from the other side of the door. `Graves? You there?’
Graves let him in. He had a glimpse of two San Diego cops sprawled on the floor in the hallway as Nordmann came into the room. `Gas is dissipated now, but those poor bastards got it full. How do you feel?’
Graves nodded, smiled:
`Dry mouth?’
Graves nodded.
`You’ll be all right. Just don’t inject any more of that stuff. You uncouple the tanks?’
Graves pointed.
`Well,’ Nordmann said. `That’s it, then.’ He looked around the room. `Quite an elaborate setup.’
With a pluck! Graves pulled one of the rubber suction `vibration sensors’ off the wall and showed it to Nordmann.
`I’ll be damned,’ Nordmann said. `Phoney as a fourdollar bill. But he really kept us guessing.’
Phelps came into the room. `What’s going on here?’
`The tanks have been uncoupled,’ Nordmann said. `There’s no danger any more.’
`Good work,’ Phelps said. He said it to Nordmann. Graves was angry about that, but he made no gesture. There was no sense in giving Phelps the satisfaction.
Phelps left. Somebody brought Graves a glass of water. Graves sipped it and wandered around the room, looking at the equipment, touching it idly. .
`Well, anyway,’ Nordmann said. `Congratulations.’
Graves shrugged.
`You’re not accepting congratulations?’
Graves finished the water, tried his voice. `I’m not sure they’re in order yet.’
`Why? Surely it’s clear -‘
`The double whammy,’ Graves said. ‘Wright is a master of it.’
`That may be,’ Nordmann said, `but -‘
`Then where’s the second punch?’ Graves said. He continued to wander around the room. When he came to the scintillation counter, he clicked it on. The machine chattered loudly like an angry insect.
`Damn,’ Nordmann said. `Everybody out!’
Graves laughed and shook his head. Everybody left the room quickly. Phelps was outside in the corridor, talking with policemen who were removing the two dead bodies. `What is it now?’ Phelps asked.
`A second punch,’ Nordmann said. `Radiation in that room.’
Phelps smiled in total triumph. `We’re prepared for that,’ he said. He picked up a walkie-talkie. `We have a radiation hazard on the nineteenth floor,’ he said. `Get the shielding up here.’
Graves and Nordmann exchanged glances.
`Oh,’ Phelps said, `I’m not a complete fool.’
`Nobody ever suggested you were a complete fool,’ Nordmann said.
It took two minutes for the policeman to arrive. He entered the room with the lead cases, which were carried on small, rolling dollies. He also had a pair of long tongs. He emerged a moment later. `All clear,’ he said. `Two bars of some isotope. Shielded now.’
Phelps smiled. `As soon as we heard about the explosive,’ he said, `I checked truck hijackings. There were two today: one for the explosive and another for the isotope.’
`Good work,’ Graves said. He said it to Nordmann.
Phelps looked pained.
Graves and Nordmann went back into the room. Nordmann said, `Satisfied now?’
`Almost.’
Nordmann laughed. `You’re a hard man to satisfy.’
`It’s not me,’ Graves said. `It’s him.’
Nordmann looked around the room. `Well,’ he said, `I don’t know what you expect to find here . . .’
`Neither do L’
`You seem so certain.’
`I’m not certain. I’m just worried.’
Nordmann raised an eyebrow. `A triple whammy?’
`Maybe.’
`I think you’re giving him too much credit.’
`Maybe.’
Graves continued to prowl around the room.
`Well,’ Nordmann said, `in the meantime I think we’d better move these tanks apart. Just in case. I’ll be happier when they’re separated by a distance of several miles.’
`Okay,’ Graves said. He was hardly paying attention, looking at the equipment in the room. `You know,’ he said, `I can’t get over the feeling that it’s been too simple.’
`Too simple? It’s been complicated as hell.’ Nordmann put his arm over Graves’ shoulder. `I think you’re tired,’ he said gently.
Across the room Lewis said, `It’s five o’clock, gentlemen.’ Everyone, including the cops, laughed. One or two of the men in the room clapped.
On the floor the timer wheel clicked once. There was a loud metallic snap.
The battery light blinked on.
The twin solenoids clicked to the `open’ position.
And nothing happened, because the solenoids had been disengaged from the tanks.
`Well,’ Nordmann said, `I can’t imagine that there’s anything else.’
`I guess not,’ Graves said.
He and Nordmann left the apartment and walked down the corridor towards the elevators.
HOUR 0
SAN DIEGO:
5 PM PDT
At 5:02 Graves pressed the button for the elevator. The light didn’t go on. He looked up at the floor numbers, one of which should have been lighted; they were all dark.
`That’s funny,’ he said.
Nordmann frowned. `Maybe they went on the blink.’ `Why?’ Graves asked.
`Maybe when we cut the power to the apartment -‘ `But they worked before.’
`Yes, that’s true. They did.’
`Why should they break down now?’
At that moment a cop came up the stairs, panting heavily. `Damned elevators are broken down,’ he said. `We checked the circuit breakers in the basement., There was a timer wired in to knock out the elevators exactly at five.’
`At five?’ Graves asked. He looked at Nordmann.
Nordmann shrugged. `Probably just a little irritant he threw in.’
`An irritant? But that doesn’t make sense.’
`It’s plenty irritating to me,’ Nordmann said. `I don’t want to walk down nineteen flights of stairs.’
`Of course,’ Graves said. `But why do it now?’
`I don’t get you.’
`Well, if Wright wanted to make things difficult, he would have knocked out the elevators at four PM. And that would have made things very difficult for us. It might even have delayed us until the gas went off.’
`True.’
`But why wait until five? By then we’ve either beaten his system or we haven’t.’
`Listen,’ Nordmann said, `I think you’re tired. You’ve been worrying about Wright for so long -‘
`I am not tired,’ Graves said, shaking off Nordmann’s arm. ‘Wright was a logical man, and there is logic in this move.’
`There are no more moves,’ Nordmann said. `We’ve won.’
`Yes,’ Graves said. `That’s exactly what we’re supposed to think.’
And he turned and walked back to the apartment.
`John,’ Nordmann said, running to catch up with him. `John, listen -‘
`You listen,’ Graves said. `What’s the point of knocking out the elevators after five?’
`It has no point. It’s a foolish irritation.’
`Wrong,’ Graves said. `It has one important point. It traps everybody on the nineteenth floor. And it traps the tanks as well.’
`That’s true,’ Nordmann said. `But it hardly matters. We’ve disarmed the mechanism.’
`Have we?’
`Oh, for Christ’s sake, of course we have. You did it yourself. You know it’s disarmed.’
`But what if it’s not?’
`How can it not be?’
At that, Graves sighed. `I don’t know,’ he admitted. He reentered the apartment.
HE OFTEN FEELS THAT A PROBLEM IS SOLVED WHEN
IT IS ONLY HALF FINISHED, OR TWO-THIRDS FINISHED.
Graves remembered the psychological report as he paced the apartment, talking out loud. Nordmann watched him and listened. In the background, cops were disassembling the tank mechanisms.
`All right,’ Graves said. `Let’s think it through. Wright designed a mechanism.’
`Yes.’
`And the mechanism had a purpose.’
`Yes, to dump nerve gas over the city at five rht.’
Graves nodded. `And we have thwarted that.’
`Yes,’ Nordmann said.
`Did he have any other purpose?’
`Well, I don’t know. You could answer that better than anyone. Somebody mentioned something about disagreeing with the President over China -‘
`No, no,’ Graves said. `Let’s forget about motivation. Let’s consider only the intent of his system. Did he intend to do anything besides dump the nerve gas?’
`Raise hell, create panic . . .’ Nordmann shrugged.
Graves was silent, frowning at the room. `I mean,’ he said, `did Wright intend his elaborate mechanism to do anything besides dump the gas?’
`No,’ Nordmann said.
`I agree,’ Graves said.
There was a long pause. Graves considered everything. he knew, from every angle. He could make no sense of it, but he somehow felt certain that pieces were missing. Vital pieces . . .
`He knew about you,’ Graves said suddenly.
`What?’
`He knew about you. He knew that I had called you in.’
`So what?’
`Why should he care?’
`He didn’t care.’
Graves began to see. It was coming into focus. `Because,’ he said, ‘Wright knew about you. He knew your position, and he knew your expertise. He must have known that you could provide an antidote to the binary gas.
`If he knew you could provide an antidote, then he also knew his protection – filling this room with gas -would not work. We’d break in. He knew that.’
`Are you sure?’
`Yes, I’m sure. And he didn’t care.’
`Perhaps he was bluffing,’ Nordmann said.
`It’s too important for a blur. He must have had another part of his system to cover that eventuality. He must have planned it so that if we did break in, he’d still manage to win.’
Nordmann considered it all very carefully. At length he sighed and shook his head. `I’m sorry, John,’ he said, `I think you’re entirely wrong about this. You’re making hypothetical sand castles in the air -‘
`No!’ Graves snapped his fingers. `No, I’m not. Because there was a second purpose to his system.’
`What second purpose?’
‘Wright was going. to Jamaica, or somewhere, correct?’
`Correct.’
`And he was not suicidal, correct?’
`Correct. He expected to get there.’
`All right. Then that establishes the need for a second purpose. His mechanism had to do two things.’
`What two things?’
`Look,’ Graves said. He spoke as rapidly as he could, but he was hardly able to keep pace with his racing mind. ‘Wright planned all this and planned it carefully. If he succeeded, a million people would die, including the President. A major political party would be wiped out. There would be national panic of incredible proportions. And for some reason, he wanted that.’
`He was insane, yes. . .’
`But not suicidal. He planned an escape. And the question is, what about afterwards?’
‘Afterwards?’
`Sure. Wright is on some beach sunning himself and gloating as he reads the headlines. But for how long?’
`Damn,’ Nordmann said, nodding.
Phelps was also listening. `I don’t follow you,’ he said.
`You never do,’ Graves snapped. `But the point is this. Sooner or later, Navy men in protective suits would enter San Diego. They would determine that people died of nerve gas. They would search for the source. They would find this apartment. They would enter it. They would find the tanks. They would put the pieces together.’
`And they would come after Wright,’ Nordmann said.
`Exactly,’ Graves said.
`Wherever he went, he wouldn’t be safe. He would be a mass murderer and he would have left a very clear trail behind him.’ He gestured at all the equipment. `Would he really leave such a clear trail for others to follow?’
`It must be true,’ Nordmann said, getting excited. `He had to have two purposes – first to discharge the gas, and second to obliterate the evidence.’
`Obliterate the evidence how?’ Phelps asked.
Graves leaned on a tank. He turned to Nordmann. `How long would it take this cylinder of gas to discharge?’
Nordmann shrugged. `Ten or fifteen minutes.’ Then he said, `I see. You want to know exactly.’
`Yes,’ Graves said.
`Why exactly?’ Phelps asked.
Graves ignored him.
Nordmann said, `Normal Army pressure tanks are usually stabilized at five hundred pounds per square inch. So these tanks . . . Anybody got a tape measure?’ He looked around the room. One of the cops had a tape. Nordmann measured the tank. `Thirty-seven inches in circumference,’ he said. `Eight feet long, that’s ninety-six inches, with a radius of. . .’ He wrote on a small pad, doing rapid calculations.