then put the shitty end of the stick to them. Told them jail was inevitable… unless they agreed to conduct intelligence work for us.'
'I know how that all worked.'
Hammond was pleased. That saved explaining.
'Coffee's cold' he noted, setting his cup aside. He looked to Leslie, waiting for her to volunteer to reheat it for him. She sat tight. He sighed. What was wrong with women these days? Uppity ideas. Silently, Hammond suffered deeply.
'I'm afraid your father drew a zero on this one' said Hammond 'Couldn't help us at all. Not at all. Said he thought Sandler was dead. Said we had to be barking up the wrong tree if we were looking for him.
Yet,' he said with rising eyebrows and an open gesture of both hands, 'we knew we had to be looking for Sandler. There was no one else. Your father didn't want to help.'
Thomas's question was so obvious that he knew the answer as soon as he asked.
'Why didn't you open Sandler's grave? See whether he was dead or not?'
'Impossible' Hammond puffed on a freshly lit cigarette. The smell of the smoke annoyed Thomas.
'Sandler was cremated. According to his wishes. Ever try to check the dental charts of ashes?'
A few particles from the tip of his cigarette flicked onto the floor.
He toed them into the carpet, then grinned sheepishly.
'Not those ashes' he said.
Thomas felt his eyes becoming drearil@'tired. He rubbed them for a moment with his thumb and forefinger and looked back up at Leslie and Hammond, odd allies in an odder struggle.
'So now,' asked Thomas, 'everyone conceded that Sandler is alive?'
'Yes' said Hammond.
'And we've traced the route of the counterfeits. A Romanian film company smuggles them in and out of the country in cans which are supposed to contain undeveloped exposed film. They finance U.S. intelligence work this way. Several of their employees are Russian KGB operatives. That's who tried to kill you ' 'We've tended to them' said Leslie.
'An eye for an eye. Spies are jailed. Killers are killed..
'And Jacobus?' Thomas asked, still with in credulousness in his voice, wanting to disbelieve but unable to.
'A KGB man, waiting for his proper chance to eliminate you. He was in with the two others who tried and failed.'
Jacobus, thought Daniels, turning over the name in his mind, and envisioning the perennially cranky custodian. He recalled how surprised Jacobus had been when Thomas arrived safely on the night of the fire. Thomas shook his head.
'I find it incredible' he muttered.
'Don't' said Leslie.
'Who do you think set the fire.' She let him consider it for a moment, then concluded jauntily.
'Your dear custodian was the only one in the building. Of course he set it.'
'What was he trying to cover up in the file?'
'Nothing. He was trying to lure you into the street' Hammond said.
'Where your muscular neck could be perforated,' mused Leslie, the expert on throat and the severing thereof Confused, he looked back and forth between the two of them.
'But the Sandler file?' he asked.
'It was gone' Hammond looked at Leslie and the two of them shared a wide conspiratorial grin.
'You're a poor record keeper,' she admitted. We took it.'
'Your office was burglarized about a year ago,' Hammond said.
'Right after your father died. The next day, in fact.' He chuckled.
'For an Ivy League boy you ain't got all the smarts,' he mocked. aWe took six of your files. You never noticed.'
Thomas studied Hammond closely, trying to discern whatever truth or untruth was behind the mass eyes and words. Daniels's eyes moved a quarter inch and looked at Leslie.
She spoke, reading his questioning thoughts.
'It's true' she said.
'I suppose we can't make you believe it, but-' 'Why didn't they try to rob my files?' Thomas asked.
Hammond answered.
'They probably, did,' he said.
'Jacobus was akin to the keeper at the gates. The' watchman. He had keys to all the offices' Hammond said. He ran his hand across his chin.
'I suppose he went into your father's files, looked around, and didn't see what he wanted. That made them think that you had hidden everything.
They figured that in time you could be pressed and would reveal where the files were. But then Victoria Sandler died.
People would be going into that old mansion eventually. They had to act in a hurry. You had to be silenced, just in case. They couldn't study you any longer.'
'Study me?' Thomas felt a distaste in his stomach, a sense of having been on the plate of a microscope without knowing it. Christ, how much of his private life had been prowled into? All of it?
'Of course,' said Hammond.
'We've studied you, too.' He glanced at Leslie.
'Essentially, that was her endeavor. Get as close to you as possible.
Get inside you. Get into your brain. Find out how much you knew7 'About what, damn it!' roared Thomas.
'Would you come out and say it. What were you trying to find out?'
'How closely you worked with your father,' said Leslie bluntly.
'How much of his business you knew. How much of his work you were planning to continue' 'His legal work?'
Hammond grimaced, as if Thomas were a slow learner. Leslie sighed.
Thomas's eyebrows were slanted downward in an angry frown, looking from one face to the other.
'Call it his illegal work' said Hammond flatly.
'The espionage.'
'I never knew a damned thing about it'' he said sharply.
'Not until'-he raised his hand and pointed rudely-'this fraud appeared in my offices and began to educate me.'
'Evidently,' muttered Hammond.
'I'm not a fraud' she answered. Thomas looked at her with anger and was about to pursue the point when Hammond spoke.
'In any event' Hammond said, 'we're forced for the sake of expediency to assume you had no knowledge of your father's activities.
Miss McAdam here is convinced that you ire innocent of any espionage activities.'
'Innocent?' repeated Thomas. A bizarre terminology, he thought, from one of the bastards who'd send you out to do the spying.
'What the hell are you implying?'
'I myself,' said Hammond, standing, still rubbing a hand across his unshaven grayish chin,
'I have my doubts about you. But there's no case against you, anyway.'
He seemed to weigh his next words in advance.
'That's why we're taking you in with us' he concluded.
'You might have a certain insight. You might want to help us help ourselves… to let us know your name is clear. Get my meaning?'
'No, I don't!' snapped Thomas angrily.
'In what? Where are we going?'
