peculiar, and that carrying one around can get a bit complicated. Then the factor learns that nudity is considered improper dress, even on dead people. The next time he moves a body he makes a point of providing suitable clothing — and how does he do it? — by tearing down a curtain with his bare teeth! Later on he learns to read; how else is he going to study the weather forecasts? Then this brilliant intelligence of his fogs up when he gets too close to the boundary of the low cancer mortality region. He can only manage to set some stiffened limbs in motion — poorly coordinated motion at that — and run them through some graveyard gymnastics: standing the body up, making it peer through the window of the mortuary, and so forth.”
“You seem to know exactly what happened. Were you there?” Sciss asked, not showing his face.
“No, I wasn’t there, but I know what can frighten an English constable. Dancing corpses. Evidently just as he was losing consciousness he remembered Holbein and the pranks skeletons used to play in the Middle Ages.”
“Who?”
The scientist’s voice was almost unrecognizable.
“What did you say?” Gregory asked in surprise. “What’s this ‘who?’ We’re talking about a statistically documented biological factor. I’m just repeating what you told me.”
Gregory drew so close to Sciss that he was almost able to touch his knee. The scientist stood up, thrusting his pale, motionless face directly in front of the detective’s. Gregory could see his pupils contracting. The two men stood that way for a few moments, then Gregory stepped backward and began laughing. The laugh was feigned, but it sounded almost spontaneous and its naturalness would have fooled anyone. Sciss stared at him for a moment, then his face began to quiver spasmodically and he started to laugh also. An instant later the room fell into silence. Sciss returned to his desk, sat down in the armchair behind it and, leaning backward, drummed his fingers on his leg for a moment.
“You think I did it, don’t you?” he said. Gregory had not expected such directness. Uncertain how to reply, he stood quietly, tall and clumsy, desperately trying to decide how to handle things now that their encounter had taken this new course.
“A few moments ago,” Sciss continued, “I thought you considered me an idiot. I can see now, though, that you think I’m insane. And so… I am threatened with arrest or with detention for psychiatric observation. Considering my state of health, I must say that both eventualities come at a bad moment; in addition I really can’t afford to waste the time. I was wrong to let Sheppard talk me into cooperating, but it’s too late now. What can I do to convince you that your theory is wrong?”
“Did you go to the doctor today?” Gregory asked in a quiet voice, drawing closer to the desk.
“Yes. I saw Dr. Vaugham. His office hours are from four to six. I made an appointment with him by telephone last week.”
“The results of his examination… are they medically confidential?”
“I’ll phone him and ask him to tell you everything he told me. Is there anything else?”
“Is that your car parked in the courtyard downstairs?”
“There are always several cars in the courtyard so I don’t know which one you’re talking about. I have a gray Chrysler.”
“I’d like —” Gregory began. He was interrupted by the telephone. Sciss bent over and picked up the receiver.
“Sciss speaking,” he said. The drone of a loud voice could be heard in response.
“What?” said Sciss. Then, a little louder: “Where? Where?”
For the next few moments he listened without saying a word. Gregory moved closer to the desk. He looked at his watch. It was almost nine.
“Good. Yes…” Sciss said at last. Just before hanging up he added: “Yes, yes, Gregory is here, yes, I’ll tell him.” He slammed the receiver into its cradle, stood up, and walked over to the map inside the open closet door. Gregory followed him.
“One of the missing bodies has been found,” Sciss said, his voice so low that he appeared to be thinking about something else. He peered nearsightedly at the map and, taking a pen from his pocket, made a small mark near the edge of the enclave.
“In Beverly Court, at the bottom of a water tank. It was discovered when the tank was drained. The body of a male.”
“Who telephoned?” asked Gregory.
“What? Uh, I don’t know. I didn’t ask. He told me his name but I wasn’t paying attention. It was someone from Scotland Yard. Sergeant something-or-other. Yes, it fits. They’ll all start turning up now… in sequence, like shells fired from a gun, although…”
He became silent. Standing slightly to Sciss’s side, Gregory watched him through slitted eyes, listening intently to the rhythm of his breathing.
“You think they’ll come back… all of them?” he said at last. Sciss raised his eyes to Gregory and quickly straightened up. His face was flushed, his breathing even louder than before.
“I don’t know. It’s possible, it’s even probable. If they do, the whole series will be concluded… and everything else with it! Maybe I figured it out too late. Suitable camera equipment with infrared film would have provided photographs explicit enough to protect me from this… this fooling around.”
“Does Beverly Court fit into your pattern? What I mean is, does its location go along with your theory?” Gregory asked somewhat perfunctorily.
“The question is poorly phrased,” Sciss replied. “I have no way of determining where the bodies will be found; that is, where they will ultimately stop moving. The only thing I can calculate is the amount of time that elapses between a disappearance and the cessation of the phenomenon, and this I can do only approximately. In my estimate, the bodies which disappeared first will be found last. You should be able to understand why. At the beginning, for some reason, the factor conveyed the greatest amount of motor energy to the corpses; by the time it reached the boundary of the region it was only able to transmit a minimal charge, barely sufficient for a series of uncoordinated body movements. You probably think I’m raving. Or lying, perhaps. It’s all the same thing in the end. Now leave me alone, will you? I still have a lot to do.” Sciss pointed to one of the boxes of moldy books. Gregory nodded his head.
“I’m going. Just one question first. Did you go to the doctor by car?”
“No. I went by subway and I came home the same way. I have a question too: what do you intend to do with me? I only ask because I want to be able to work as long as possible without interference. Is that understood?”
Gregory buttoned his coat, which was beginning to hang on his shoulders like a lead weight. Taking a deep breath, and again inhaling the faint musty odor, he answered:
“What do I intend to do? Nothing, for the time being. Let me remind you that I haven’t expressed any suspicions or made any charges — not even one word!”
With his head bent, Gregory walked into the foyer. In the dimness he caught a glimpse of a woman’s face, a pale blot which disappeared almost instantly; he heard the sound of a door slamming. He found his way out of the apartment, checked the time again on the luminous face of his watch, and went downstairs. In the lobby, instead of heading for the street, he turned in the opposite direction and went into the courtyard toward a long, gray automobile. He circled it slowly but couldn’t see very much in the faint light from the windows of the surrounding buildings. The car was locked, completely dark, except where reflections of the apartment house lights danced rhythmically on its shiny fender in time with Gregory’s movements. He touched the hood: it was cool. That didn’t mean anything, though. It was a little harder to reach the radiator. He had to bend down and stretch his hand through a wide chrome-enclosed gap that looked like the thicklipped mouth of a sea monster. Hearing a slight noise, Gregory winced and straightened up. He saw Sciss at the second-floor window. Now he wouldn’t have to continue his examination of the car, Gregory thought; Sciss’s behavior confirmed his suspicions. At the same time, though, he felt a bit uncomfortable, as if he had been caught doing something underhanded, and this feeling became stronger when, observing Sciss more closely, he realized that the scientist wasn’t watching him at all. After standing next to the open window for a few moments, Sciss sat down awkwardly on the window sill, drawing his knees up and wearily resting his head in his hands. This gesture was so incompatible with Gregory’s image of Sciss that he stepped back to get a better look, and as he did so he stumbled over a piece of metal, crushing it underfoot with a piercing noise. Sciss looked down into the courtyard. Gregory stood absolutely still, flushed with embarrassment and anger, uncertain what to do next. He didn’t know for sure if he’d been seen, but Sciss continued
