Bear Trap
Page 8
valid--he'd_have_ to have the files. His whole body was wet with perspiration as hereached the landing field.
The trip to the Library of Congress seemed endless, yet he knew that theLibrary wouldn't be open until 8:00 anyway. Suddenly he felt a wave ofextreme weariness sweep over him--when had he last slept? Bored, hesnapped the telephone switch and rang PIB offices for his mail. To hissurprise, John Hart took the wire, and exploded in his ear, "Where inhell have you been? I've been trying to get you all night. Listen, Tom,drop the Ingersoll story cold, and get in here. The faster the better."
Shandor blinked. "Drop the story? You're crazy!"
"_Get in here!_" roared Hart. "From now on you've _really_ got a job.The Berlin Conference blew up tonight, Tom--high as a kite. _We're atwar with Russia--_"
Carefully, Shandor plopped the receiver down on its hook, his hands likeice. Just one item first, he thought, just one thing I've got to know._Then_ back to PIB, maybe.
He found a booth in the Library, and began hunting, time pressing himinto frantic speed. The idea was incredible, but it _had_ to be true.He searched the micro-film files for three hours before he found it, ina "Who's Who" dating back to 1958, three years before the war withChina. A simple, innocuous listing, which froze him to his seat. He readit, unbelievingly, yet knowing that it was the only possible link.Finally he read it again.
David P. Ingersoll. Born 1922, married 1947. Educated at RutgersUniversity and MIT. Worked as administrator for International Harvesteruntil 1955. Taught Harvard University from 1955 to 1957.
David P. Ingersoll, becoming, in 1958, the executive president ofDartmouth Bearing Corporation....
* * * * *
He found a small, wooded glade not far from the Library, and set the'copter down skillfully, his mind numbed, fighting to see through thehaze to the core of incredible truth he had uncovered. The great, jaggedpiece, so long missing, was suddenly plopped right down into the middleof the puzzle, and now it didn't fit. There were still holes, holes thatobscured the picture and twisted it into a nightmarish impossibility. Hesnapped the telephone switch, tried three numbers without any success,and finally reached the fourth. He heard Dr. Prex's sharp voice on thewire.
"Anything happen since I left, Prex?"
"Nothing remarkable." The doctor's voice sounded tired. "Somebody triedto call Mariel on the visiphone about an hour after you had gone, andthen signed off in a hurry when he saw somebody else around. Don't knowwho it was, but he sounded mighty agitated." The doctor's voice paused."Anything new, Tom?"
"Plenty," growled Shandor bitterly. "But you'll have to read it in thenewspapers." He flipped off the connection before Prex could reply.
Then Shandor sank back and slept, the sleep of total exhaustion, hopingthat a rest would make the shimmering, indefinite picture hold stilllong enough for him to study it. And as he drifted into troubled sleep agreater and more pressing question wormed upward into his mind.
He woke with a jolt, just as the sun was going down, and he knew thenwith perfect clarity what he had to do. He checked quickly to see thathe had been undisturbed, and then manipulated the controls of the'copter. Easing the ship into the sky toward Washington, he searched outa news report on the radio, listened with a dull feeling in the pit ofhis stomach as the story came through about the breakdown of the BerlinConference, the declaration of war, the President's meeting withCongress that morning, his formal request for full wartime power, thegranting of permission by a wide-eyed, frightened legislature. Shandorsettled back, staring dully at the ground moving below him, the whispsof evening haze rising over the darkening land. There was only one thingto do. He had to have Ingersoll's files. He knew only one way to getthem.
Half an hour later he was settling the ship down, under cover ofdarkness, on the vast grounds behind the Ingersoll estate, cutting themotors to effect a quiet landing. Tramping down the ravine toward thehuge house, he saw it was dark; down by the gate he could see theSecurity Guard, standing in a haze of blue cigarette smoke under thedim-out lights. Cautiously he slipped across the back terrace, crossingbehind the house, and jangled a bell on a side porch.
Ann Ingersoll opened the door, and gasped as Shandor forced his way in."Keep quiet," he hissed, slipping the door shut behind him. Then hesighed, and walked through the entrance into the large front room.
"Tom! Oh, Tom, I was afraid-- Oh, _Tom_!" Suddenly she was in his armssobbing, pressing her face against his shirt front. "Oh, I'm so glad tosee you, Tom--"
He disengaged her, turning from her and walking across the room. "Let'sturn it off, Ann," he said disgustedly. "It's not very impressive."
"Tom--I--I _wanted_ to tell you. I just didn't know what to do. I didn'tbelieve them when they said you wouldn't be harmed, I was afraid. Oh,Tom, I wanted to tell you, believe me--"
"You didn't tell me," he snapped. "They were nervous, they slipped up.That's the only reason I'm alive. They planned to kill me."
She stared at him tearfully, shaking her head from side to side,searching for words. "I--I didn't want that--"
He whirled, his eyes blazing. "You silly fool, what do you think you'redoing when you play games with a mob like this? Do you think they'regoing to play fair? You're no clod, you know better than that--" Heleaned over her, trembling with anger. "You set me up for a sucker, butthe plan fell through. And now I'm running around loose, and if youthought I was dangerous before, you haven't seen anything like howdangerous I am now. You're going to tell me some things, now, and you'regoing to tell them straight. You're going to tell me where HarryDartmouth went with those files, where they are right now. Understandthat? _I want those files._ Because when I have them I'm going to doexactly what I started out to do. I'm going to write a story, the wholerotten story about your precious father and his two-faced life. I'mgoing to write about Dartmouth Bearing Corporation and all its flunkyoutfits, and tell what they've done to this country and the people ofthis country." He paused, breathing heavily, and sank down on a chair,staring at her. "I've learned things in the past twenty-four hours Inever dreamed could be true. I should be able to believe anything, Isuppose, but these things knocked my stilts out from under me. Thiscountry has been had--right straight down the line, for a dozen years.We've been sold down the river like a pack of slaves, and now we'regoing to get a look at the cold ugly truth, for once."
She stared at him. "What do you mean--about my precious father--?"
"Your precious father was at the bottom of the whole slimy mess."
"No, no--not dad." She shook her head, her face chalky. "HarryDartmouth, maybe, but not dad. Listen a minute. I didn't set you up foranything. I didn't know what Dartmouth and Mariel were up to. Dad leftinstructions for me to contact Harry Dartmouth immediately, in case hedied. He told me that--oh, a year ago. Told me that before I didanything else, I should contact Dartmouth, and do as he said. So when hedied, I contacted Harry, and kept in contact with him. He told me youwere out to burn my father, to heap garbage on him after he was deadbefore the people who loved him, and he said the first thing you wouldwant would be his personal files. Tom, I didn't know you, then--I knewHarry, and knew that dad trusted him, for some reason, so I believedhim. But I began to realize that what he said wasn't true. I got thefiles, and he said to give them to you, to string you along, and he'dpick them up from you before you had a chance to do any harm with them.He said he wouldn't hurt you, but I--I didn't believe him, Tom. Ibelieved you, that you wanted to give dad a fair shake--"
Shandor was on his feet, his eyes blazing. "So you turned them over toDartmouth anyway? And what do you think he's done with them? Can youtell me that? Where has he gone? Has he burnt them? If not, what's hegoing to do with them?"
Her voice was weak, and she looked as if she were about to faint."That's what I'm trying to tell you," she said, shakily. "He doesn'thave them. I have them."
Shandor's jaw dropped. "Now, wait a minute," he said softly. "You gaveme the briefcase, Mariel snatched it and nearly killed me--"
&
nbsp; "A dummy, Tom. I didn't know who to trust, but I knew I believed youmore than I believed Harry. Things happened so fast, and I was soconfused--" She looked straight at him. "I gave you a dummy, Tom."
His knees walked out from under him, then, and he sank into a chair."You've got them here, then," he said weakly.
"Yes. I have them here."
* * * * *
The room was in the back of the house, a small, crowded study, with agreen-shaded desk