The Doomsday Conspiracy by Sidney Sheldon

Frau Schreiber’s mouth made a small “o” of surprise.

“Interpol has been on his trail for months. The current information we have on him is that he is German and that he gave a lecture here on the fifteenth of this month.” He straightened up. “If you don’t want to help, we can conduct an official investigation of the university. Of course, the publicity—”

“Nein, nein!” she said. “The university must not be involved in anything like this.” She looked worried. “You say he lectured here on—what day?”

“The fifteenth. Monday.”

Frau Schreiber rose and walked over to a filing cabinet. She pulled it open and scanned some papers. She extracted several sheets from a folder. “Here we are. There were three guest professors who gave lectures here on the fifteenth.”

“The man I want is German.”

“They are all German,” Frau Schreiber said stiffly. She shuffled the papers in her hand. “One of the lectures was on economics, one on chemistry, and one on psychology.”

“May I see those?”

Reluctantly, she handed the reports to Robert.

He studied the sheets. Each one had a name written down with a home address and a telephone number.

“I can make a copy of these for you, if you wish.”

“No, thank you.” He had already memorized the names and numbers. “None of these is the man I’m looking for.”

Frau Schreiber gave a sigh of relief. “Well, thank God for that. Prostitution! We would never be involved in such a thing.”

“I’m sorry I troubled you for nothing.” Robert left and headed for a telephone booth in town.

The first telephone call was to Berlin. “Professor Streubel?”

“Ja.”

“This is the Sunshine Tours Bus Company. You left a pair of glasses on our bus last Sunday when you were touring with us in Switzerland and—”

“I do not know what you are speaking about.” He sounded annoyed.

“You were in Switzerland on the fourteenth, were you not, Professor?”

“No. On the fifteenth. To give a lecture at the University of Bern.”

“And you did not take our bus tour?”

“I have no time for such foolishness. I’m a busy man.” And the professor hung up.

The second call was to Hamburg. “Professor Heinrich?”

“This is Professor Heinrich.”

“This is the Sunshine Tours Bus Company. You were in Switzerland on the fourteenth of this month?”

“Why do you wish to know?”

“Because we found a briefcase of yours on one of our buses, Professor, and…”

“You have the wrong person. I have been on no tour buses.”

“You did not take a tour of ours to the Jungfrau?”

“I just told you, no.”

“I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

The third call was to Munich. “Professor Otto Schmidt?”

“Yes.”

“Professor Schmidt, this is the Sunshine Tours Bus Company. We have a pair of your glasses that you left on our bus a few days ago, and—”

“There must be some mistake.”

Robert’s heart sank. He had struck out. There was nowhere left to go.

The voice went on. “I have my glasses here. I have not lost them.”

Robert’s spirits soared. “Are you sure, Professor? You were on the Jungfrau trip on the fourteenth, were you not?”

“Yes, yes, but I told you, I have not lost anything.”

“Thank you very much, Professor.” Robert replaced the receiver. Jackpot!

Robert dialed another number, and within two minutes he was speaking with General Hilliard.

“I have two things to report,” Robert said. “The witness in London I told you about?”

“Yes?”

“He died in a fire last night.”

“Really? Too bad.”

“Yes, sir. But I believe I’ve located another witness. I’ll let you know as soon as I check him out.”

“I’ll wait to hear from you, Commander.”

General Hilliard was reporting to Janus.

“Commander Bellamy has located another witness.”

“Good. The group is getting restless. Everyone is worried that this story will surface before SDI is operational.”

“I’ll have more information for you soon.”

“I don’t want information, I want results.”

“Yes, Janus.”

Plattenstrasse, in Munich, is a quiet residential street with drab brownstone buildings huddled together as though for protection. Number 5 was identical to its neighbors. Inside the vestibule was a row of mailboxes. A small card below one of them read, “Professor Otto Schmidt.” Robert rang the bell.

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