today she could hardly think about it.
He took her hand. 'I love you,' he said. 'We get on well, we have the same interests, and we both have a child - but that's not why. I believe I'd want to marry you if you were a waitress who chewed gum and liked Elvis Presley.'
Billie laughed.
He went on: 'I just adore you, for no reason other than you're you. I know it's real, because it's happened to me before, just once, with Lesley. I loved her with all my heart, until she was taken away from me. So I'm not in any doubt. I love you, and I want us to be together for ever.' He looked at her, then said: 'How do you feel?'
She sighed. 'I'm fond of you. I'd like to-go to bed with you, I think it would be great' He raised his eyebrows at this, but did not interrupt 'And I can't help thinking how much easier life would be if I had someone to share the burdens.'
'This is good.
'Yesterday, it would have been enough. I would have said yes, I love you, let's get married. But today I met someone from my past, and I remembered what it was like to be in love at the age of twenty-one.' She gave him a candid look. 'I don't feel that way about you, Harold.'
He was not totally discouraged. 'Who does, at our age?'
'Maybe you're right' She wished she could be crazy and wild again. But it was a foolish desire for a divorcee with a seven-year-old. To give herself time, she lifted the brandy goblet to her lips.
The doorbell rang.
Billie's heart leaped.
'Who the heck is that?' Harold said angrily. 'I hope Sidney Bowman doesn't want to borrow my car jack at this time of night' He got up and went out to the hall.
Billie knew who it was. She put down her brandy untouched, and stood up.
She heard Luke's voice at the door. 'I need to talk to Billie.'
Billie wondered why she was so inordinately pleased.
Harold said: 'I'm not sure she wants to be disturbed right now.'
'It's important.'
'How did you know she was here?'
'Her mother told me. I'm sorry, Harold, I don't have time to dick around.' Billie heard a thump, followed by a cry of protest from Harold, and she guessed Luke had forced his way into the house. She went to the door and looked into the hallway. 'Just hold your horses, Luke,' she said. 'This is Harold's house.' Luke had ripped his coat and lost his hat, and he looked very shaken. 'What's happened now?' she said.
'Anthony shot at me.'
Billie was shocked. 'Anthony?' she said. 'My God, what got into him? He shot at you?
Harold looked scared. 'What's this about a shooting?'
Luke ignored him. 'It's time to tell someone in authority about all this,' he said to Billie. 'I'm going to the Pentagon. But I'm worried I may not be believed. Will you come and back me up?'
'Sure,' she said. She took her coat off the hall stand.
Harold said: 'Billie! For God's sake - we were in the middle of a very important conversation.'
Luke said: 'I really need you.'
Billie hesitated. It was very hard on Harold. He had obviously been planning this moment for some time. But Luke's life was in danger. I'm sorry,' she said to Harold. 'I have to go.' She lifted her face to be kissed, but he turned away.
'Don't be like that,' Billie said. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'
'Get out of my house, both of you,' Harold said furiously.
Billie walked out, with Luke behind her, and Harold slammed the door.
.
11 P. M.
The Jupiter programme cost 40 million dollars in 1956 and 140 million in 1957. In 1958 the figure is expected to be more than 300 million.
Anthony found some hotel stationery in the desk drawer of the room Pete had rented. He took out an envelope. From his pocket he took three distorted slugs and three cartridge cases, the rounds he had fired at Luke. He put them into the envelope and sealed it, then stuffed it into his pocket He would dispose of it at the first opportunity.
He was doing damage control. He had very little time, but he had to be meticulous. He needed to wipe out all trace of this incident The work helped to distract his mind from the self-loathing that tasted so bitter in his mouth.
The assistant manager on duty came into the room, looking wrathful. He was a small, neat man with a bald head. 'Sit down, please, Mr. Suchard,' Anthony said. He showed the man his CIA identification.
'CIA!' Suchard said, and his indignation began to deflate.
Anthony took a business card from his billfold. 'The card says State Department, but you can always reach me at that number if you need me.'
Suchard handled the card as if it might blow up. 'What can I do for you, Mr. Carroll?' He had a slight accent which Anthony thought might be Swiss.
'First, I want to apologize for the little fracas we had earlier.'
Suchard nodded primly. He was not going to say it was okay. 'Fortunately, few guests noticed anything. Only the kitchen staff and a few waiters saw you chasing the gentleman.'
'I'm glad we didn't disrupt your fine hotel too much, even over a matter of national security.'
Suchard raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'National security?' x 'Of course, I can't give you the details ...'
'Of course.'
'But I hope I can rely on your discretion.'
Hotel professionals prided themselves on their discretion, and Suchard nodded vigorously. 'Indeed, you can.'
'It may not be necessary even to report the incident to your manager.'
Anthony took out a roll of bills. 'The State Department has a small fund for compensation in these instances.' He peeled off a twenty. Suchard accepted it 'And if any staff members seem discontented, perhaps ...' He slowly counted another four twenties and handed them over.
It was a huge bribe for an assistant manager. 'Thank 'you, sir,' said Suchard. 'I'm sure we can meet your requirements.'
'If anyone should question you, it might be best to say you saw nothing.'
'Of course.' Suchard stood up. 'If there's anything else...'
'I'll be in touch.' Anthony nodded dismissively, and Suchard left Pete came in. 'The head of security for the army at Cape Canaveral is Colonel Bill Hide,' he said. 'He's staying at the Starlite Motel.' He handed Anthony a slip of paper with a phone number, and went out again.
Anthony dialed the number and got through to Hide's room. 'This is Anthony Carroll, CIA, Technical Services Division,' he said.
Hide spoke with a slow, unmilitary drawl, and sounded as if he might have had a couple of drinks. 'Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Carroll?'
'I'm calling about Dr Lucas.'
'Oh, yes?'
He seemed faintly hostile, and Anthony decided to butter him up. 'I would appreciate your advice, if you could spare me a moment at this late hour, Colonel.'
Hide warmed up. 'Of course, anything I can do.'
That was better. 'I think you know that Dr Lucas has been behaving strangely, which is worrying in a scientist in possession of classified information.'
'It sure is.'
Anthony wanted Hide to feel in charge. 'What would you say is his mental state?'
'He seemed normal last time I saw him, but I talked to him a few hours ago and he told me he'd lost his memory.'
