Sabotage in the Secret City

by Diane Fanning

  One hour and twenty minutes into our exile, firefighters emerged from every exit. The fire chief waved over Charlie and a couple of other men in suits. Moments later, Charlie walked back to our huddle, shaking his head. ‘False alarm. You can all go back to work now.’

  We rushed around him babbling questions. Charlie just said, ‘Inside. In the lab.’

  When we were all there with a door closed, he said, ‘I hate to do this but here is what I need. Every one of you needs to make a list of all the people you are certain were within your range of vision at the time the alarm went off. No guessing. No approximating. Just the unvarnished truth.’

  ‘Why?’ Gregg asked.

  ‘Someone opened the fire alarm box and pulled the hook. We want to talk to that person and find out why. The fire crew found no sign of any fire. So either the person responsible was mistaken or that individual intentionally disrupted the work day. I repeat again: do not guess who was around you. If you name someone that ends up being the culprit, it will reflect badly on you and on our lab. Okay. Get busy. Get me the list and then get back to work. Or if you’d like to confess to setting off the alarm, come see me in my office – the door is open.’

  I wasn’t paying attention to anyone when the loud clanging had disrupted my task. I was focused on my work area and nothing else. I had raised my head and looked around at the first sound of the alarm, though. Who did I see in that moment? I closed my eyes to visualize that scene, trying to recall each face. As quickly as I could, I wrote down the people I knew I saw and dropped the list onto Charlie’s desk.

  ‘Do you have any suspicions, Libby?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Let me know if that changes. Are you going to be able to send out a shipment Monday?’

  Sometimes it seems like he reads my mind. ‘I plan to work late tonight until I know I’m on schedule or until I drop.’

  ‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do.’

  ‘I think I can manage it, Charlie. If I can’t, you’ll be the first to know.’ I walked back to my space wondering if everything from the fire to the rats to the sliced tires and the evacuation of the building were all related or if I was manufacturing a plan out of a cascading series of simple coincidences.

  TEN

  I hummed in the kitchen as I fed G.G. and fixed my first cup of coffee. I had everything I needed for the supper I’d planned for Ruth. A gorgeous roasting hen sat in the refrigerator – all cleaned out and ready to pop in the oven. Potatoes rested in a basket under the sink and I had one last jar of home-canned green beans waiting in the pantry. I was especially pleased about the beans. I decided to make them in that southern style Ruthie liked – cooked long and hard with a piece of fatback in the pot for added flavor. Aunt Dorothy would not approve but Ruth would be delighted that I remembered and went to the trouble to prepare them just as she likes them.

  I pulled out the piece of paper with a handwritten recipe for buttermilk biscuits. I’d never tried it before but sweet, white-haired Mrs Ferrell, who seemed to live in her apron, wrote it out in her spidery hand and had assured me that it was as easy as pie. When I told her that I’d never made pie either, she just laughed at me.

  First, I needed to make a jelly roll for dessert. I didn’t have directions for that in writing but I’d helped Aunt Dorothy’s German cook and housekeeper do it so many times, I felt fairly confident that I could be successful. By the time I had finished whipping up the cake batter, my arm was sore from the mixing. I slid it into the oven, grabbed my second cup of coffee, sat down in the living room and cracked open Dragon Seed to read while it baked.

  I had a hard time getting into the story since the urge to check on the progress of my creation made me jump up and run to the kitchen every few minutes. At last, I pulled the golden cake out of the oven and put the chicken inside to roast. I smeared blackberry jelly on the thin cake, rolled it up, sprinkled the top with a dusting of confectioner’s sugar before wrapping it all in a piece of wax paper and putting it in the pantry. I smiled at it as I set it on the shelf. Getting all the ingredients and putting it all together without any help had been a challenge, but I did it. The similarities between following a recipe and conducting a lab procedure still surprised me every time I labored in the kitchen.

  While the potatoes boiled on the stove, I mixed the biscuit batter, spooned it onto a cookie sheet and set it down by the stove. I had drained the potatoes and grabbed the masher when I looked out the window and saw Ruthie coming up the street. I pulled out the chicken, slid in the biscuits and ran out to meet her.

  We worked side-by-side in the kitchen on the finishing touches, filled our plates and sat down at the little table after I set my pile of new books on the sofa. ‘Biscuits! I can’t believe you know how to make biscuits,’ Ruthie said. A few minutes later, she added, ‘Oh, these green beans are as good as Mama’s!’

  We both ate more than we should before carting the plates into the kitchen and starting the clean-up. Before we made much progress, we heard a knock on the door. I opened it to see Dennis standing there with a fistful of flowers. The western boots and cowboy hat made him appear taller than usual but what really amazed me was his suit. It was like something out of a Randolph Scott movie – embroidered curlicues running down from his shoulders accented with a lariat tie. I was speechless.

  ‘Are you still irritated with me?’ he asked.

  ‘No, Dennis, I’m not one to hold a grudge.’

  ‘Good. I stopped by to ask you if you might consider going out to dinner with me on Saturday night. Afterwards, we could walk over to see a movie, or maybe there’s something else you’d like to do.’

  I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was making a big mistake. But, honestly, I was still miffed at Teddy and felt I needed to prove something to him. ‘I’d be delighted, Dennis.’

  I heard a gasp behind me. Looking back, I saw Ruthie peering out of the kitchen door. When she saw me, she ducked out of sight.

  A grin split Dennis’ face as he bobbed his head. ‘I’ll come by for you at seven Saturday night, then.’

  ‘I have a better idea. I’ll drive my car and come pick you up at the dorm.’

  Dennis blanched, stammered and recovered in record time. ‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you then.’ He thrust the flowers at me, spun around and executed a fast retreat as if he was worried I might change my mind.

  When I returned to the kitchen, Ruthie batted at me with the kitchen towel. ‘What do you think you’re doin’? What kind of game are you playin’?’

  ‘What?’ I asked, feigning ignorance.

  ‘What about Teddy?’

  ‘Teddy doesn’t own me.’

  ‘That’s not the point. Remember what you said in your letters? You said that Teddy understands. Teddy is supportive of your career in every way. You said that you were extremely fond of him. I thought that meant you couldn’t bring yourself to say that you loved him but you did.’

  ‘Teddy is acting a bit too possessive.’

  ‘So, your answer is to risk losin’ him and at the same time toy with this other guy’s affections?’

  ‘You think I’m toying with Dennis?’

  ‘Yes, I do. I think you are pushin’ Teddy away, too. What are you afraid of Libby?’

  One of the things I always liked about Ruth was her forthrightness. At this moment, though, I felt the sting of it and wasn’t sure it was such an endearing quality after all. Before I could summon even a flimsy response, we were interrupted again by a knock on the door.

  Outside, a corporal stood, his posture rigid, his demeanor grim. ‘I have orders to bring Ruth Nance in for questioning.’

  I was trembling inside but I forced a steely tone into my voice. ‘Who gave that order?’

  ‘Miss Clark, I was specifically told not to share any information with you.’

  ‘Sir, I am not in the military. Miss Nance is not in the military. Your orders have no weight here in my home.’

  The corporal sighed. ‘Ma’a
m, we do not want to use any force, however, we have been instructed that if you try to prevent us from carrying out the command then we should bring you in, too.’

  I slammed the door in his face and heard the sound of his foot thumping on the door as he failed in his attempt to block its closing. I threw my body against it and dug in my heels. ‘Ruthie, quick, drag the chair over. It should hold the door until the two of us can get the sofa in place. Then …’

  I heard grumbling communications coming from outside as Ruth placed a hand on my forearm. Her dark brown eyes looked straight into mine. ‘I’m goin’ with them, Libby. And you’re goin’ to let me. I don’t want you arrested, too. I need you free so that someone will know what happened to me.’

  Her logic was inescapable but the idea of allowing them to take her without a struggle galled me. ‘But, Ruthie, we can—’

  ‘No, Libby, we can’t. Step away from the door.’

  Seeing the determination in her face, I yielded and stepped away and Ruth pulled it wide open. ‘Well, gentlemen, I reckon we oughta get a move on.’

  I watched her walk down the steps and climb into the jeep. She waved as they pulled away. I stood there for a long time after I could no longer see her. My conflicting emotions – admiration for my friend, frustration with my helplessness, and anger at Crenshaw who I knew must be behind this – left me devoid of constructive thought. Soon, my stubbornness reasserted itself. I grabbed a pencil and paper and created a plan of action. Then, I headed out the door.

  ELEVEN

  A different corporal sat at a desk by the door to Crenshaw’s office. This one looked as if he spit-polished his face each morning. His tiny eyes and bushy eyebrows made him appear pig-headed and petty. ‘The lieutenant colonel is not in his office.’

  ‘When do you expect him?’

  ‘Tomorrow morning at 0800.’

  ‘Where can I find him this afternoon?’

  ‘I am not at liberty to provide that information, ma’am.’

  ‘I am a scientist working in Y-12 and—’

  The corporal grinned. ‘Of course, you are, ma’am.’

  I slapped my badge on his desk. ‘I am certain if you are manning this desk you have been briefed on the coding of the badges. Am I correct?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. I am. My apologies. What can I do for you?’

  I was pleased to see his reddened complexion as I scooped up my identification, but it wasn’t all I wanted. ‘I need to speak with Lieutenant Colonel Crenshaw immediately because of a recent development.’

  ‘Your name is Libby Clark – did I remember that right?’ he asked as he pulled open the top middle drawer and extracted a piece of paper.

  ‘Yes. I am Libby Clark.’

  ‘I’m sorry, ma’am. But you are not on the lieutenant colonel’s list of those who are entitled to know of his whereabouts in an emergency.’

  ‘Obviously, his list is incomplete,’ I said as I spun around and walked out into the hall. I didn’t even know he had something like that. And if I had been aware, I had no delusions that he would include my name. The likely place to see him between now and tomorrow morning would be at his home. I doubted he was there right now but I was willing to wait.

  I knocked on the door of his cemesto home and Mrs Crenshaw opened it. ‘Why, Miss Clark, what a pleasant surprise. I’m afraid, however, that my husband is out right now.’

  ‘Do you expect him back soon?’

  ‘Oh no, dear. I am not sure when he’ll be back. When he left this afternoon, he told me not to keep supper for him tonight since he expected to be busy for quite some time. So I put the roast back in the refrigerator and my son and I are just going to have leftover stew. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Do you know where I could find him?’

  Mrs Crenshaw put her fingers up to her mouth and chuckled. ‘You certainly aren’t the wife of a soldier or scientist around here. They tell us nothing. He could be next door or two states away by now. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea. I will tell him you dropped by when I see him.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ I said and returned to the street in front of the house. How do those women live that way? They were like ladies in waiting, hostage to the whims of the monarchy. Most of them seemed so happy. There were those women who sat home quietly drinking all day, but they were the exception. Most accepted their lives in captivity with total equanimity.

  I looked around the neighborhood for a place where I could wait for Crenshaw’s return home without being obvious. I spotted a tree house nestled in a large, leafy oak tree behind a home on the other side of the street. I saw no sign of life in the cemesto beside it. The boards nailed like steps into the side of the tree were narrow and more suited for child-sized feet than my own but I managed to hoist myself up and take refuge inside. The interior was deep enough that I could lean against the back wall and even my shoes remained in the shadows. Best of all, I had an excellent view of the front of Crenshaw’s house.

  At first, I wished I’d brought a book along but soon the sun lowered and I realized my reading time would have been very limited. The loss of warmth walked hand in hand with the decreasing light. The warm spring day turned into a chilly evening, making me now wish I’d brought a sweater.

  I hadn’t meant to fall asleep and didn’t realize I had until I awoke with a start. For a moment, I did not know where I was but it all came together with the sight of Crenshaw strolling up the sidewalk in front of his home. ‘Crenshaw,’ I shouted as I flopped around and made my way down the tree.

  ‘Miss Clark?’ he asked, chin thrust forward, his eyes squinting in a vain attempt to penetrate the darkness.

  ‘Yes, sir. Where is Ruth Nance?’

  ‘Were you in that tree house?’

  ‘Yes sir. Where is Ruthie?’

  ‘How long have you been up there?’

  ‘I don’t know. A while. Where is Ruth Nance?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Sir, please show me enough respect to give me an honest answer.’

  ‘That is an honest answer, Miss Clark,’ he said, lifting his arm and turning the face of his watch into the porch light. ‘It has been a half hour since I last saw her. I have no idea where she went.’

  ‘What did you do to her?’

  ‘I just asked her a few questions.’

  ‘And then you just let her go?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Clark, please relax. Unclench your fists. It is not becoming in any woman and particularly not a professional.’ He turned and took two steps toward his front door.

  I grabbed his arm. ‘Is that the truth?’

  He pinched one of my fingers to lift and remove my hand from the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Yes, Miss Clark. You are acting unhinged. Now go away or I’ll be forced to call for MP intervention.’

  I stood staring at him for a moment, then I turned and fled into the night. I had to find Ruth.

  I stopped first at the dormitory. Izzie opened the door before I had a chance to knock. ‘Ruth thought you might come here looking for her. I didn’t want her to go out again, all alone. But she said she had to go to your place and I had to stay here in case you showed up.’

  ‘How is she, Izzie?’

  ‘Shaking. Trembling. All over. She said if you weren’t at home, she was waiting there until you came back.’

  ‘Thanks, Izzie. I’ll take care of her. She might want to spend the night with me.’

  ‘Then, I’m coming with you,’ she said reaching into her closet to grab a sweater. ‘I won’t sleep until I know she’s OK.’

  We arrived at my flat-top short of breath, relieved to see Ruthie sitting on the steps. ‘Ruthie, why didn’t you wait inside?’ I asked.

  ‘I reckoned I could get ambushed by those soldiers again if I did. This way, I’d see them acomin’ and run off before they saw me.’

  A simple, logical statement but it made me sad. Again, it seemed we were sacrificing our individual freedoms on the altar of national security. I prayed we could do a better job of
balancing the two when the war was over. ‘Let’s go inside to talk. You, too, Izzie. I’ll fix a pot of tea.’

  The night’s chill had permeated the thin walls of my home. After putting on water to boil, I started a coal fire in the stove. By the time we sat down with our cups, the room was quite cozy.

  To answer the endless questions from Izzie and I, Ruth related her experience. ‘We drove into the military housing area, then went a bit further. We stopped in front of a one-story building and went down into the basement. The hallways on the lower floor were really long – it seemed like it had to be bigger than what was up on ground level.

  ‘They put me in a room with a table, a chair on either side and a desk lamp on top. One soldier pushed me down into a seat and told me to stay there. He said that he’d handcuff me if I didn’t stay put. So, I did. It seemed like an awful long time before Crenshaw, a corporal and a woman showed up. Long enough that, by the time they got there, I needed to go really bad.

  ‘They let that woman take me to a bathroom but she wouldn’t answer any of my questions or talk to me at all. When we returned, the questionin’ started. Crenshaw started out tellin’ me that he knew I was responsible for all of the pranks. He said he’d go easy on me if I would tell him who else was involved.

  ‘I told him I never pulled a prank on anybody since I was ten years old. Then he asked me, “Where did you get the rats?” “Rats?” I said. “Can’t stand those things. They get in the grain and make a mess of it.” He said, “So, you brought them here from your farm.” I asked him if he flipped his wig. I said that there was no way I’d be a’travelling on the train with a bunch of rats.

  ‘Then he wanted to know how I got into the lab. He said he knew I borrowed your identification card, Libby, whenever I wanted to go somewhere I shouldn’t. Imagine that.’