Troy stared at the final figure and nodded his head. Yes indeed, yes indeed! This was something that the admiral would have to hear about at once.
It was a quick phone call. Kelly put him right through to the admiral when he said that he had urgent news.
'Admiral Colonne speaking. Is that you Sergeant Harmon?'
'Yes, sir. I've found the safe where the colonel keeps his gold. Before I closed the safe I weighed the gold, roughly, but accurate enough so that there is probably no more than a five per cent error either way. It appears that the colonel is a sharper operator than the FBI realized. He has more gold here than the hundred thousand that they reported.'
'More? How much more?'
'I would say that the colonel now has over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars' worth of gold in that safe, admiral. A quarter of a million dollars.'
Chapter 4
'I prefer a verbal report,' the admiral said. 'You can write up your conclusions later on. But for the moment I just want to hear what you have found out.'
Troy nodded and spread his notes out on the conference table before him. The room was the same as it had been on his last visit; the curtains drawn, a hushed quiet, just the two of them present. He tapped the figure on the first sheet.
'You know, of course, that the colonel has at least two and a half times as much gold as we thought he had?' The admiral nodded grimly as he spoke.
'That is indeed relevant — but it just raises more questions. How did he get that much without the FBI noticing it? And it also adds additional force to our original question. What does he want it for? Have you come up with any answers to that one yet?'
'No, sir. But I do have some leads.' Troy pulled over the next sheet of paper. 'Colonel McCulloch has shown some remarkable changes in his behaviour patterns during the last year. He has been buying books, going to libraries and museums, things that he never did before. I've had all of his school records checked, right back through high school in fact, while the FBI has interviewed a number of his military instructors. Under the guise of a routine security check. His new interests just don't fit his normal behaviour pattern.'
'What do you mean?'
'For all of his life, as far as I could discover, McCulloch has never had any intellectual interests whatsoever. That doesn't mean that he is a stupid man. His classwork in school was good enough when he wanted it to be. But he had to study hard in order to get his grades above average. After leaving school he apparently put away all of his books and as far as I can determine appears to have never voluntarily opened one ever again. This is confirmed by men who have served with him. And he has never even been known to go to the movies. If he watches television it is only when in company with others, and usually only a ball game. He does not own a television set of his own.'
'What does he do with his spare time?' the admiral asked, digging at the dottle in his pipe with a penknife. 'Don't tell me he just sits and looks at the wallpaper when he goes home?'
'No, sir. He works out in the gym very often, plays squash, golf on week-ends as well. Physical things. He is sociable, drinks with friends at least once a week, but always in moderation. And he dates very often. Dinner and drinks, dancing afterwards, then into the sack. He leads a busy life, keeps fit. But he doesn't read. That's what I find so disconcerting about his new interests. And they seem to overlap, this period of gold buying and book buying.'
'Do you think that there is a connection?'
Troy pushed the papers into neat rows, silent for a moment before he answered. 'On the surface I guess that I don't have any evidence at all to say that there is any connection. But I have to think of Occam's razor.'
'Wasn't that something about entities not being multiplied forever?'
'Yes, sir. If there are a number of possible answers, why then it is usually best to settle for the simplest. There have been two abrupt changes in McCulloch's life, and they both began at roughly the same time. Which leads me to believe that they must be linked together by something more than coincidence. That's what I must find out next. I think the time has come for me to meet the colonel. I've done what I can from the records. Now I want to get to know him, to find out what makes him tick.'
'Perhaps. Do the books he has been buying give you any leads at all?'
'None that make sense.' Troy read from another sheet of paper. 'Here's what was on the shelf above his desk, in the order that I found them. The Encyclopedia of Military History, A Bridge Too Far, The Gatling Gun, Stress Analysis in Alloys, The Horse Soldiers, Gone with the Wind, Ordeal by Fire, The Ninja, The Alteration…'
'That's enough. I'm beginning to see what you mean. A mixture of fiction and non-fiction, varied, all jumbled together as if they were on a shelf of bargain books.'
'Not completely jumbled. If there is one thread of interest that a number of them represent, it is military history.'
'Agreed. But the colonel is a military man. That is his life and his career. We can't make too much of that. All that we really have now are clues and hints — and a quarter of a million dollars in gold. All right. I'll back your plan to get closer to McCulloch. What do you suggest?'
'You told me that he is head of security at a government lab. Does he have any Army troops under his command there? I couldn't find anything about that in the FBI report.'
The admiral blew through his pipe and, satisfied with his cleaning, began to repack it with tobacco. 'The FBI never went near Weeks Electronics. Not their job. But as I recall he has some armament technicians there, as well as a few specialists in electronic security. Perhaps some others. Why do you ask?'
'I would like to look at the men's records. Find some reason to run a security check on one of them.'
'They're all clean or they wouldn't be there. That place is top security. They do research of some kind, death rays for all I know. Anyone stationed there would have to be as clean as a hound's tooth.'
'I'm sure of that, admiral. And I don't really care what kind of research they are doing there, it's of no importance. Nor do I really want to investigate the security of the men. I just want to get close to McCulloch, to work with him, to suss him out. And there isn't a joe in the army that you can't investigate for some reason or other. Maybe he loses a few bucks gambling, goes to a whorehouse that the Mafia has a part of — or has a girl friend who has an ex-boy friend with a police record. I just need some kind of hook to hang a security investigation on. I can make it look real, I did work of this kind for years.'
'I'll go along with that,' the admiral said, pressing a button under the edge of the table. There was a knock at the door and Kelly came in. The admiral waved him over.
'Get on to the Pentagon and have them dig out copies of some enlisted personnel files. The sergeant here will tell you what we need. If they ask why we want them just say security investigation for QCIC and they won't ask twice. Sergeant Harmon, I want you to report back to me as soon as you have found what you are looking for.'
It was work that Troy knew well, that he had done often enough before. In the third folder he found just what he was looking for. It was only three in the afternoon and the admiral should still be in the building. Yes, the secretary called back, in five minutes in the conference room. The admiral must have an office, Troy thought — he certainly had a secretary — but Troy had no idea where it was or why they always met in the big room. A puzzle, but not a big puzzle. He looked at his watch, then picked up the file and headed for the stairs.