There's no need to start acting like a prosecuting attorney!"
Mac shrugged. "I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to prosecuting attorneys, Mrs. Hendricks. You're apt to meet quite a few of them in the near future."
She was on her feet, aghast. "What do you mean? I haven't done anything! You can't think-"
"What I think," Mac said gently, "or what Mr. Helm thinks, is quite beside the point. The facts speak for themselves. You arrived at the Club Chihuahua at precisely the strategic time. When things went wrong, you were quick to take the secret material from your sister and receive her instructions. When an agent of the U.S. Government asked you, a loyal citizen, to turn this material and information over to him, you refused to cooperate, forcing him to resort to violence and intimidation. His actions weren't quite legal, perhaps, but I doubt that he'll be condemned for excessive zeal, under the circumstances."
"But how could I believe him?" she demanded. "He had no identification, no-"
"Mrs. Hendricks, the taped record in the next room will show that Mr. Helm, before resorting to other means, did everything in his power to convince you of his genuiness, even to taking oath on the 'Holy Bible. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to consider yourself under arrest."
She gasped. I refrained from looking in his direction. I suppose we can arrest people if we have to-any citizen can, under certain conditions-but we don't make a habit of it. He was throwing a scare into her for some reason. Standard procedure required that, now that he was taking the heavy part, I should suffer an abrupt change of heart in the subject's favor.
I said, "Sir, I don't really think-"
He glanced at me impatiently. "What is it, Eric?"
"Isn't is possible that Mrs. Hendricks has been just…well, a little naive and foolish?"
He said, "That may be, but let's be practical. One of our agents has gone over to the enemy-this woman's sister. Even though the girl is now dead, it puts us in a very bad light. Do you understand? We are also going to have to report the loss of a second agent, and the unpalatable fact that important government secrets have been compromised. The wolves in Washington will want blood. Well, let them chew on Mrs. Hendricks, while we continue our task of locating and dealing with the real villain. She was given every chance to cooperate and she refused. Innocent or guilty, she has earned no consideration from us."
"But, sir, in all fairness-"
Gail Hendricks made an impatient gesture. "Oh, stop that silly dialogue. You don't fool me one little bit, either of you. You're both… both equally despicable!" She faced Mac defiantly. "If that microphone you showed 'me is working, how is the little speech you just made going to sound on your precious tapes?"
Mac spread his hands. "My dear lady, it will never be heard. If the technician was fool enough to record it…well, magnetic tapes are easy to erase and edit."
"I see." Her hands were clenched into fists. Her face was white. "It's just a frame-up, is that it?"
"My dear lady-"
She made a strangled sound. "If you call me that again, I… I'll scream!" There was a little silence. She glanced at me quickly. "What are you grinning at, you elongated ape?"
I didn't answer. As a matter of fact, I wasn't grinning. Mac said, "We are merely doing our duty, Mr. Hendricks, reporting matters bearing on national security that have come to our attention. I will send in no information that is not absolutely accurate, believe me. I may delete a few items I consider irrelevant, but that hardly constitutes a frame-up."
She touched her lips with her tongue. "You're being stupid and ridiculous, you know that, don't you? Nobody'll believe for a minute-"
"No?" Mac opened his hand and showed her the little film capsule again. "Less spectacular evidence than this sent Alger Hiss to the penitentiary and the Rosenbergs to the electric chair, Mrs. Hendricks. Would you like to see what is on this film you carried hidden on your person and refused to surrender?"
She hesitated and licked her lips again. "Yes."
Mac studied her face for a moment. Then he pried open the small cartridge, and spoke without turning his head.
"Eric, you have a magnifier, haven't you?"
I got it for him. He examined the film strip briefly, and passed it to Gail, with the glass. She frowned and squinted and moved the lens back and forth helplessly.
"Just hold it next to your eye," I said, "and bring the films up into focus. It's customary to look towards the light."
She gave me an angry look, but followed instructions. I saw her get a sharp image at last. A startled expression came to her face.
"But this is-"
Mac said, "You undoubtedly have read about the project in the newspapers. It is known, picturesquely, as Operation Mole: the underground atomic explosion to be set off shortly in the Manzanita Mountains, not too far north in New Mexico. We've had hints that there might be trouble about it."
"But-"
Mac went on. "What you have in your hands is a set of unauthorized copies of the basic instructions covering Operation Mole, as revised following a recent postponement. There is, you will note, a detailed diagram of the underground chamber in which the explosion will take place, as well as a map of the area showing the relative locations of the chamber and the above-ground monitoring station in the foothills a safe distance away where a group of selected observers will be with Dr. Rennenkamp, the director of the project and his staff. There are also a copy of the orders, two pages, covering the general security measures to be taken and a summary of the time schedule for the operation. Note the new date, December thirteenth, the date mentioned by your sister, according to your recorded testimony. This date, let me point out, has not yet been made public."
She started to speak, then was silent. Mac took the film and began to roll it up carefully.
"Well, Mrs. Hendricks, what do you think? If you were on a jury, shown this evidence, and told where it was found, and if you heard how extremely reluctant the bearer was to part with it, what would your verdict be?"
She hesitated. "All right," she whispered. "All right, damn you! It's blackmail, isn't it? You want something, don't you? What do you want me to do?"
X
In the morning, it was snowing. To hear the Texans in the hotel lobby, this was a big thing in El Paso history. It snows every so often in El Paso, but they always act as if each time was the first in the memory of man. The clerk at the desk considered me foolish even to think of venturing out into the dangerous stuff. The very idea of driving north into the white wilderness of New Mexico, he said, was suicidal. The little town of Carrizozo, to hear him tell it, was as inaccessible, for the moment, as Point Barrow, Alaska.
When I came outside, after that build-up, expecting snowdrifts to the second story, I found the streets merely wet and black with big soft white flakes drifting out of the gray sky and a little slush building up where the traffic left it alone. I asked the doorman to retrieve my truck from the parking garage across the street and went back inside just in time to see Gail Hendricks emerging from the elevator, followed by a bellboy loaded with my luggage and hers which had been brought over from a motel, earlier.
She was certainly decorative, I reflected, watching her approach. The arrangement of her light-brown hair was still kind of elaborately loose and fluffy, but this morning she was quite simply dressed in a pleated skirt and a cashmere sweater that was neither sexy tight nor sloppy loose. It was blue and matched the subdued plaid of the skirt. A single strand of pearls dressed things up a bit. She was carrying a kind of twill greatcoat with a luxurious fur lining. I guess the height of snobbishness is wearing your mink so it doesn't show.
I said, "Good morning," in a neutral way as she came up. I had no idea what her attitude was going to be, except that it would probably be very hostile.