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think about,' he said. 'But it does make some kind of perverted sense. If his
disappearance had something to do with the gold and it was planned well
ahead he might very well eliminate anyone who found out about it, who might
interfere. He was in the Green Berets. He knows something about killing
people. But just where does that leave us now?'
'It leaves me out of it,' Anderson said, folding the note with his pen and
pushing it into an envelope. 'As far as my department is concerned this
particular lead stops right here. We'll check this note out, dust the house as
well, put an APB out for the colonel, do all the routine things. But I have a
strong hunch that we've reached the end of our resources. Of course we'll
investigate the case further, follow up any other leads, and I'll keep you
informed of any developments. But it looks to me like my little case of murder
is small potatoes next to your case of national security. You did tell me that
McCulloch was involved with classified work?'
'He was. And his disappearing like this is really bad news. I have a feeling
that a big flap is coming down.
If there is anything I can tell you later, you know that I will.'
'You bet. I won't call you, you'll call me.'
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'Sorry. But there's nothing else I can tell you.'
'Don't worry, son. I've worked in the District all my life. When government
steps in we step out.'
'Thanks. Can I have that note?'
'We'll hold the original. Send you a photo this afternoon. Will that do you?'
'Great. Can you give me a lift on your way back?'
'Door to door.'
The fine mist that had been falling all day had changed to a steady, hammering
rain that reflected Troy's dark mood. He rode in silence, his thoughts turned
inward, seeing again the murdered women, the empty safe, the derisory note
aimed directly at him, and the even more empty house with McCulloch gone from
it. He did not know how or why, but he felt just as the policeman did, that
all of these inexplicable acts were somehow tied together. He intended to do
everything he could to find out just how.
As soon as he came through the door of the house on Massachusetts Avenue the
receptionist waved him over.
'Orders from the admiral. Wants you in his office soonest. Third floor, little
green door at the end of the hall.'
'Not the conference room this time?'
'Feel honoured, you're among the chosen few. Just leave your raincoat here and
run. I'll let him know that you are on the way.'
The door was half-open when he came to it. He hesitated but the admiral's
voice sounded from inside.
'Push in, Troy. And close it behind you.'
Troy had not known what to expect but certainly not this. There was none of
the usual senior-executive furniture here, or even bridge-of-battleship navy.
The room was windowless and bare, except for the grey metal cabinets that
covered one wall. The admiral sat with his back to the other wall, facing a
computer terminal. The only other object in the room was the high-speed
printer against the third wall.
There was a telephone next to the terminal and nothing else, not even another
chair.
'This is where the work really gets done,' the admiral said. 'Everything I
need to know comes in either through the terminal or the phone and goes out
the same way. I don't believe in paper any more. We live in an age of
high-speed electronics. Now tell me all you know about this disastrous affair
with
Colonel McCulloch.'
There was no place to sit other than on the floor so Troy stood at ease, hands
clasped behind his back, as he carefully outlined the facts and the
conclusions that he and Anderson had reached. The admiral looked at the screen
instead of at him as he talked, occasionally typing in a few words as though
updating a file. He looked up, only once, when the empty safe and the note
were mentioned.
'Do you remember what the note said?'
'It's a little hard to forget, admiral. It read keep looking for me, jig, but
you're not going to find me.'
'Interesting. He must have realized that your visit to his office was really
to investigate him not the Army corporal. Which means he was either aware of
the FBI surveillance, or was expecting it. If he did kill the two women it
could indicate that he might have been on a fixed schedule of some kind and
did not want it upset. If all of these suppositions are true, he was
apparently only trying to buy enough time to bring these arrangements to some
conclusion. His plans had obviously been made for some time, for him to get
out, go somewhere with the gold and leave his life, his career behind him. It
must have been something damn important. Do you have any idea what it could
be?'
'No, sir. But I do have some suggestions for immediate action. I feel that it
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is imperative that a description of McCulloch be sent at once to all airports,
border points, customs stations, any place where he might attempt to leave the
country. I am certain that there are grounds for asking that he be detained.'
'Damn right there are. How about desertion for openers? The last I heard that
was a shooting offence.'
The admiral was typing furiously at the terminal as he talked. He read the
quick response, then typed in another command and leaned back. The high-speed
printer rattled into action and spewed out a yard of paper.
'Acknowledgement from the FBI with details of the action taken. Bless the
computer networks. We'll have the country sewn up tight inside of three
minutes.'
'Do you think that it will do any good?'
'No. Wherever he was going, you can be sure that he is already there or well
on his way. But there is nothing wrong with the late slamming of barn doors.
What is your next course of action?'
'I did some hard thinking about that on the way over here. But I would like to
know first if I am still in charge of the operation?'
'Until you are told differently.'
'All right. Then I'll want to spend some government money. I need help from
the FBI here, the CIA
overseas. I want every detail on every bit of McCulloch's life that they can
turn up. I want to find out who his friends are and when they are contacted I
want them questioned so we can also find out who his enemies are as well. I
want to know all of his contacts, the name of every one of his girl friends,
anything and everything about the man. It will be a mass of garbage that will
have to be sifted through very slowly.
But somewhere in there will be an answer to all our questions about the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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