pointed, and I saw a small grey metal box half hidden behind a crossbeam.
He jerked his thumb and we climbed out from under the table and he led me at a quick walk out of the room, down the passage, and into Fallon's study which was empty. 'We've been bugged,' he said.
I gaped at him. 'You mean, that thing is . ..'
'. . . a radio transmitter.' He took the stethoscope from Ms ears with the air of a doctor about to impart bad news. 'This gadget is a bug finder. I sweep the frequencies and if there's a transmitter working close by this thing howls at me through the earphones. Then, to find it, all I have to do is watch the meter.'
I said nervously, 'Hadn't you better shirt up about it?' I looked about the study. 'This place ...'
'It's clean,' he said abruptly. 'I've checked it out.'
'Good God!' I said. 'What made you think there even might be anything like that?'
He grinned. 'A nasty suspicious mind and a belief in human nature. I just thought what I'd do if I were Jack Gatt and wanted to know what goes on in this house. Besides, it's standard procedure in my business.' He rubbed his chin. 'Was anything said in that room -- anything important?'
I said cautiously, 'Do you know anything about what we're trying to do?'
'It's all right -- Fallon filled me in on everything. We stayed up pretty late last night.' His eyes lit up. 'What a hell of a story -- if true!'
I cast my mind back. 'We were all standing around that table talking about the trays. It was then I broke the news that they were really mirrors.'
That's not too good,' said Harris.
'But then we went into the projection room,' I said. 'And I demonstrated what would happen when you bounced a light off me mirrors. Everything else was said in there.'
'Show me this projection room,' said Harris. So I showed him, and he donned his stethoscope and spent a few minutes twiddling the knobs on his gadget. At last he undipped the earphones. 'Nothing here; so there's a good chance that Gatt knows only that these things are mirrors but can't know the particular significance.'
We went back into the study and found both Fallon and Halstead. Fallon was unsealing a large envelope, but stopped dead when he heard what Harris had to say. The conniving bastard!' he said in some wonder. 'Rip out me goddamn thing.'
'Hell, no!' objected Harris. 'I want that transmitter left where it is. It will be useful.' He looked at us with a slow smile. 'Do any of you gentlemen fancy yourselves as radio actors? I think we can feed Jack Gatt quite a line. All you Save to remember is to say nothing important in that room.'
Fallon laughed. 'You're quite a conniver yourself, Harris.'
'I'm a professional,' said Harris easily. 'I don't think we'll make it a live show; there'd be too much chance of a slip-up. This calls for a nicely edited tape which we can feed into that microphone.' He paused. 'I'll keep an eye on that room. Someone will have to change the batteries; they wont last for ever.'
'But where is it transmitting to?' asked Halstead.
'Probably the car that's parked up the road a piece. Those two guys have been staked out there for a couple of days now. My guess is that they have a receiver linked to a tape-recorder. I won't bother them until they've swallowed the story we're going to concoct, and maybe not even then. It's one thing knowing something, but it's even better when the opposition doesn't know that you know it. My advice is to come the innocent bit. You're not supposed to know that Jack Gatt even exists.'
Fallon was right about Harris; he was the most deceitful man I've ever met, and an accountant is no stranger to wool-pulling. When I came to know him better I'd trust him with my life, but I wouldn't trust him not to know more about me than I did myself. His business was information and he gathered it assiduously, on the job and off it. He had a mind like a well-organized computer memory but, unlike a good computer, he tended to play tricks with what he knew.
Fallon ripped open the envelope. 'Let's get down to business. These are the X-ray prints -- life size.' He sorted them out and gave us each two prints, one of each mirror.
They were very good, startling in clarity of details that had only been hinted at in the screened reflections. I said, 'Mrs. Halstead was right; these are words around the circumference.' I looked closer. 'I can't read Spanish.'
Fallon took a reading glass and mumbled a bit to himself. 'As near as I can make out it goes something like this. On your mirror it says: 'The path to true glory leads through the portals of death.' And on my mirror: 'Life everlasting lies beyond the grave.''
'Morbid!' commented Harris.
'Not very precise instructions,' said Halstead ironically.
'It may mean something,' said Fallon doubtfully. 'But one thing is certain; this is definitely the coast of Quintana Roo.' He moved the magnifying glass over the print. 'And, by God, cities are indicated. See those square castle-like things?'
I sensed the air of rising excitement. Those two at the top must be Coba and Tulum,' said Halstead tensely. 'With Chichen Itza to the west.'
'And there's Ichpatuun on Chetumal Bay. And what's that south of Tulum? Would that be Chunyaxche?' Fallon lifted his head and stared into the middle distance. 'A city was discovered there not long ago. There's a theory it was the centre of the seaboard trade on the coast.'
Halstead's hand stabbed down. There's another city indicated just inland of it -- and another here.' His voice cracked. 'And here's another. If this map is accurate well be discovering lost cities by the bushel.'
Take it easy,' said Fallon and laid the print aside. 'Let's have a look at Uaxuanoc.' He took the other print and stared at it. 'If this corresponds to the small circle on the large-scale map then we ought to be able to pinpoint the position.'
