leaning against a radiator, wore the wry, slightly amused, slightly condescending expression that most doctors reserve for all those who are not also doctors. April Wednesday sat, quietly and alone, in a corner chair.
From the silence that followed it was clear that none of the gentlemen present saw it any differently.
Richards's geniality yielded to a certain amount of testiness. 'You, Hagenbach, what do you propose to do?'
Hagenbach restrained himself. Even though he was the head of the FBI he had to pay his due respect, albeit lip-service respect, to the Vice-President.
'I suggest we await the transcription of Revson's message,
'Transcription! Transcription! Was it necessary for this man of yours to complicate things by sending in code?'
'On the face of it, no. Revson has a near-mania for secrecy, that must be admitted, and is extraordinarily security-conscious. The same might be said about myself. Agreed, the message came through with safety and ease. On the other hand, as Miss Wednesday here has testified, Branson did contemplate searching the ambulance. With the proverbial toothcomb, he might have come up with something. But not with this microfilm.' He looked up as a young man, dressed in the immaculate conservative grey of a Wall Street broker, came through the doorway and handed him two typed sheets of paper.
'Sorry it took so long, sir. It was a bit difficult.'
'So is Revson.' Hagenbach read quickly through the papers, totally oblivious of the impatience of the others. He looked up at the young man. 'You like and you value your position in our organization, Jacobs?'
'You don't have to say that, sir.'
Hagenbach tried to smile but, as ever, failed to crack the ice barrier. 'I apologize.' It was a measure of Hagenbach's concern over the matter in hand that he had never previously been heard to say sorry to anyone.
'You don't have to say that either, sir.' Jacobs left the room.
Hagenbach said: 'This is what Revson says. 'To give you the maximum time to obtain what I require for my immediate needs, I will state those first of all.''
Admiral Newson coughed. 'Do your subordinates usually address you in such a peremptory tone?'
'Not usually. He goes on: 'I want four hundred yards of blue or green thin cord, cylindrical waterfront containers for written messages and a variably hooded morse-flashlight. Then I would like an aerosol, two pens-one white, one red, — and a CAP air pistol. Please order those immediately. Without them, I cannot hope to operate.''
General Carter said: 'Goobledook. What are those terms supposed to mean?'
Hagenbach said: 'I am not sure if I should tell you. That does not refer to you personally, General. Senior officers, cabinet ministers and, of course, senior police officers, are entitled to be privy to such information. But there are — ah — civilians present.'
O'Hare said mildly: 'Doctors don't talk. What's more, they don't leak secret information to the press either.'
Hagenbach favoured him with a very old-fashioned look then said to April: 'And you, Miss Wednesday?'
She said: 'I'd talk my head off if you as much as showed me a pair of thumb-screws. You wouldn't have to put them on, showing would be quite enough. Otherwise, no.'
Hagenbach said to Hendrix: 'How's Branson with thumbscrews and young ladies?'
'No way. Master criminal though he is he has a remarkable reputation for gallantry towards women. He has never carried out a robbery where a woman might be involved, far less hurt.'
'But Mr Revson told me — '
'I rather fancy,' Hagenbach said, 'that Revson wanted you to act scared. So he threw a scare into you.'
April Wednesday was indignant: 'Has he no scruples?'
'In private life, a model of integrity. On business — well, if he has scruples he has so far hidden the fact very well. As to those objects he asked for, the aerosol contains exactly the same knock-out nerve gas that Branson used with such effect on the bridge. No permanent damage whatsoever — the presence of Miss Wednesday testifies to that. The pens — they look like ordinary felt pens — fire tiny tipped needles that also knock out people.'
Admiral Newson said: 'Why two colours?'
'The red knocks you out a bit more permanently.'
'One assumes that a 'bit more permanently' means permanently.'
'Could happen. The air pistol — well, it has the advantage of almost complete silence.'
'And the CAP bit?'
Hagenbach's hesitation betrayed a degree of reluctance.
'It means the bullets are tipped.'
'Tipped with what?'
Hagenbach's reluctance turned into something close to embarrassment.
'Cyanide.'
After a brief and understandable silence Richards said heavily: 'This Revson of yours. Is he a direct descendant of Attila the Hun?'
'He is an extremely effective operative, sir.'
'Loaded down with a lethal armoury like that, I don't for a moment doubt it. He has killed?'
'So have thousands of police officers.'
'And what's his score to date?'
'I really couldn't say, sir. In his reports, Revson lists only the essentials.'
'Only the essentials.' Richards's echo had a hollow ring to it. He shook his head and said no more.
'If you will excuse me for a moment.' Hagenbach wrote quickly on a notepad, opened the door and handed the note to a man outside. 'Have those items here within the hour.' He returned and picked up the transcript again.
'To continue. 'In what little time I've had I've tried to make an assessment of Branson's character. In original concept, planning, organization and execution, the man is quite brilliant. He would have made an excellent general, for his appreciation of both strategy and tactics is masterly. But nobody can be that good. He has his failings, which I hope can be used to bring him down. He has a divine belief in his own infallibility. This belief carries with it the seeds of his own destruction. No one is infallible. Second, he is possessed of a colossal vanity. He could just as easily have held those TV interviews — I've only seen one of Branson's love affairs with the public but there are bound to be more — at, say, the south tower — but, no, he had to have it smack in the middle, surrounded by his own private press corps. In his place I would have had the whole press corps off the bridge in five minutes. It seems it just has not occurred to him that the ranks of the press corps may have been infiltrated. Third, he should have searched the doctor and Miss Wednesday and then the ambulance, if necessary throwing every single item of medical equipment into the Golden Gate, before allowing it to leave the bridge: in other words, he is not security- conscious enough.'
'How to deal with them? I have no idea yet I would like some guidance. I have suggestions but I don't think any of them is practical.'
'No one can cope with seventeen heavily armed men. But of those seventeen only two matter. Some of the other fifteen are bright but only Branson and Van Effen are natural leaders. Those two I could kill.'
'Kill!' April Wednesday's shocked green eyes stared out of her pale face. 'The man's a monster.'
Hagenbach was dry. 'At least, he's a realistic monster.' He read on. ''It's feasible, but unwise. The others would then almost certainly over-react and I wouldn't care to be responsible for the health of the President and his friends. This is a second last resort.' '
'Would it be possible to have a submarine standing by under the bridge during the hours of darkness, with only the top of the conning tower showing? I could certainly pass messages and pick up anything I wanted that way. What else, I don't know. I can't for instance, visualize the President descending two hundred feet of rope ladder. He'd fall off after ten feet.'
' 'When Branson's men are fixing the charges would it be possible to send a two thousand volt jolt through the cables? I know this would electrify the entire bridge but those standing on the roadway or inside the coaches should be safe enough.''
Richards said: 'Why two thousand volts?'
