Turpm found himself compelled to trail at Clarke’s heels, not a r81e he relished. He was used to being the focus of attention where anything connected with Energetics General was concerned. Now and then he tried to involve himself in one of Clarke& conversations.
`”Think that print will give you a lead to-?”
“Hell, no. Second commonest brand on the market, fourth commonest sizel” And back to a technical discussion with the forensic experts. ‘
“Whoever did it came down the track, as I see it, and then-”
“Doesn’t follow.” With even greater curtness. “We shan’t know until we’ve finished searching the beach.”
So Turpin. anxious, withdrew into the background and smoked a rapid succession of cigarettes, his earlier confidence oozing away under the simultaneous pressure of Clarke’s snubbing and the glare from the sunlight on the sand, which threatened to give him a headache. He was on the point of confronting Clarke directly and saying that he was going home because he was tired of wasting time, when the men working over the beach discovered something that made his heart lurch.
In a direct line between the dirt road and the sea, a probing metal rod had come back from six inches underground smeared with some sort of sticky plastic goo.
Oh, my God. Sheklov’s survival suld
None of his reaction showed in his face, of course, or his manner. He had had far too long to practise concealment of his emotions. Moreover. he had been assured that the destruct process left no single compound in the mess that could be identified as of foreign origin.
But suppose they underestimated the impact of thirty years’ paranoia on our forsenic techniques?
He wondered briefly what “they” and “our” meant to him nowadays.
Now it was definite. He would not dare to leave here before he had planted in Clarke’s mind the seed of the suspicion Sheklov had proposed: the idea that some rival corporation, or the Navy, had decided to undermine confidence in EG’s ability to fulfil its defence contracts.
Waiting for his chance, he stood by while the forsenic team, with the patience of archaeologists, uncovered the mass of mingled plastic and sand. It bore no resemblance to the form of a human being, Turpin realized with relief. It had been folded roughly square, and the destruct process had caused streels of plastic to flow away from its edges like pseudopods around a sick amoeba. He waited tensely for Clarke’s opinion of the find.
“What do you think?” the security man said finally to the nearest of his aides.
The man shrugged. “Garbage,” he answered. “One of those self-destruct bags you have on yachts, chucked overboard and washed up here.”
“That’s what it looks like to me,” Clarke agreed. “But take a sample to the lab just in case. And keep on looking. Say-uh-Turpinl I’d like a word with you now.”
He gestured for the older man to fall in at his side, and led the way towards the vegetation fringing the shore. As he walked be produced and offered a pack of cigars, a good West Coast brand.
Accepting one, Turpin decided to risk a bit of deduction himself. He said, “Did you get hauled back from a vacation?”
“Not exactly,” Clarke grunted. “Just my first free weekend in two months. I was out in Oregon last week, and I have cousins in Frisco, so I thought I’d take the chance to call on them. Then this blows up, so fast I don’t even have the time to change clothesl Hahl” He bit the end off his cigar and spat it savagely into a nearby bush.
Well, that would excuse some of his bad manners . . . . Offering a light, Turpin ventured, “Have you drawn any conclusions yet? Naturally, on behalf of EG, I’m very concerned about all this.”
“Whereas I have to be concerned about it on behalf of
the whole nation,” Clarke said, with the air of a man scoring a debating-point.
“Naturallyl” Turpin agreed, lighting his own cigar. “But, you see-”
“Just a moment.” Clarke pushed his cigar to the corner of his mouth. where it jutted up at the traditional tycoon’s angle, and reached into one of the pockets of his windbreaker. He drew out something of shiny metal, about six inches long when unfolded. touched a switch at its base, and-holding it about the height of his mouth-turned through a complete circle. A high-pitched hum made Turpin’s teeth ache slightly.