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Authors: Robert Goddard

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Crime

Out of the Sun (28 page)

BOOK: Out of the Sun
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Capital Sound & Vision lived up to the cab driver's recommendation as a repository of all things audio-technological. A dedicated young assistant identified the kind of headphones Harry would need and assured him they were a bargain at nineteen dollars and ninety-five cents. This is state of the art, sir. Where the competition's still not at." He was equally enthusiastic in explaining how to operate the recorder and Harry left with a reasonable idea of which buttons to press, if only he could find something small enough to press them with. His fingers clearly would not do. But the tip of his pen just might.

Seated at a cafe table in the converted shell of the Old Post Office on Pennsylvania Avenue, surrounded by chattering groups of shoppers and office workers, Harry rewound the tape to near the beginning, then donned the earphones, tapped the play button and waited to hear his son's voice for the first time.

It was actually Lazenby's voice he first heard, in all its syrupy familiarity, so distinct and authentic that he could have been sitting at the same table. There was no static on the recording, only an eerie pin-sharp clarity that transcended normal hearing.

' serves no purpose. Well? I'm waiting. And I won't wait much longer. I run to a tight schedule, as you two ought to know. Why don't we come to the point? Sybil's dead and buried. And there's no way she's going to be exhumed. Why can't you and your friends just accept that?"

"We do' said Hammelgaard.

"But they don't' It was David. Disembodied but somehow instantly recognizable as the voice of the silent figure in the hospital bed, he spoke at last. But he did not speak to Harry. "We've come to warn you, Byron. They mean to dig her up. And make her dance to their tune' This was it, then. The tongue tip of treachery. The recorded moment of imminent betrayal.

"The hell they do."

"There's nothing you can do to stop them. It'll take time to reassemble the material, of course. But it can be done."

"Not if they want to hold on to their jobs. I have a lot of friends in the academic world. I can make it real tough for them."

"Not tough enough, Byron. These are dedicated people. They mean to go through with it."

"Why are you telling me this, David?" Lazenby's tone grew suddenly emollient. "What's in it for you?"

"We could sabotage their efforts. Dispute their findings. Deny you tried to gag them."

"Why would you do that?"

"To help you out of a hole."

"A very deep hole," put in Hammelgaard. "Seeking to tamper with genuine predictive endeavour is a serious charge for somebody in your position to answer. If it stuck, it could .. ."

"Ruin me?"

"Maybe:

"So you need our help, Byron' said David. "Don't you?"

"Seems I might'

"And in return .. ."

"Oh, you do want something in return, do you?"

"Naturally. What we're proposing is a business transaction. And in business everything has to be paid for'

"Yuh. It does."

"The only difficulty is agreeing a price."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Start-up money for a pet project of ours. I've told you about it before. HYDRA."

"Why did I know you were going to say that?"

"Because I've asked you to help fund it on several occasions. And you've never seen any advantage in becoming involved. Only now '

"You've supplied the advantage."

"That's right."

"Well, I have to admire your gall, David. I surely do. How much are you hoping to squeeze out of me?"

"Significantly less than your commercial survival would justify."

"That's what we're discussing," said Hammelgaard. "Not so much the planet's future as yours."

"Bull. Your friends can't prove a thing. I've had all trace of Project Sybil erased. As far as Globescope's concerned, it never was. Which makes your threat as hollow as a Presidential policy statement."

But David was undaunted. "They're respected specialists in their own fields, Byron. They'll be believed, evidence or no evidence. The rumour mill will start grinding. The word will go out. Your client-list will start to shrink."

Hammelgaard joined in. "Then the clients who commissioned Sybil in the first place will realize they've been taken for a ride. Once that happens .. ."

"You've thought this out very cleverly, gentlemen," said Lazenby. He paused, then added: "You realize what you're doing amounts to blackmail?"

"Report us to the police, then," David replied. "See how far that gets you."

"It could get you two as far as a prison cell."

"Unlikely."

"And even if it did' reasoned Hammelgaard, 'it wouldn't solve your problem. You'd still have the others to deal with."

"I suggest you deal with us," said David. "We're so much more reasonable."

Several seconds of silence followed, during which Harry found it easy to imagine the exchange of eloquent glances. Then Lazenby said: "How much do you want?"1

"Three million dollars."

"Jesus! You have a '

"And your help in seeking other sponsors."

"You're crazy."

"No. Sane, sober and entirely serious. You can afford it."

"I can afford many things. That doesn't mean I buy them."

"Look on this as one of life's necessities."

"How do I know you two aren't just shooting a line?"

"Easy. Wait until the others are ready to publish their allegations in the scientific press. We'll give you prior notice. That's when you pay up and we deliver."

"And when's that likely to be?"

"Early next year. Until then, all we need is a little pump-priming money. Let's call it a deposit. What do you say to ten per cent?"

There was another lengthy pause. At the end of it, Lazenby said: "What I say, gentlemen, is that you don't appear to leave me much choice."

Harry switched the machine off, removed the earphones and sat back in his chair. He had heard enough. It was there, if you were looking for it. The seed of Lazenby's intentions. The space between his words in which their true meaning was revealed. He had been threatened. And he had chosen to neutralize the threat.

Harry slipped the recorder into his pocket. Then he headed for the nearest telephone, called the Hay-Adams Hotel and asked to be put through to Ms Cornford. He half-expected Donna to have left. It would have been a sensible precaution. But no. She was where he had left her that morning.

"It's me, Donna."

Thank God." Then her relief turned to anger: "Have you any idea what kind of a day I've had to endure? What the hell did you mean by '

There's no time for this. I have the tape. And I've played it. I think it'll do the job."

"How did '

"Just listen! The less said now the better. Did you hire a car as planned?"

He sensed the effort with which she limited her reply to the needs of the moment. "Yes."

"How soon can you pick me up?"

"Ten minutes."

"All right. Ten minutes. Corner of Constitution and Twelfth, eastbound side. I'll be waiting." And with that, before she could say another word, he put the telephone down.

FORTY-FIVE

Movement imposed security and a distance between them neither seemed sure they wanted to cross. Donna drove slowly east as far as the Supreme Court, then turned west along the southern side of the Mall as she listened to the tape. She must have listened to it two or three times, while Harry watched her from the passenger seat and tried to read her reaction from her face. Sorrow at the recorded proof of her onetirne lover's treachery. Elation at the escape from her fugitive existence it promised to deliver. Gratitude for Harry's recovery of it. She might have felt them all. But her expression revealed nothing.

Eventually, out on a dark and empty stretch of road near the Jefferson Memorial, she pulled in long enough to stop the tape, remove the earphones and say, still without looking at Harry: This will destroy Lazenby. I doubt it's proof in the legal sense. But it's good enough."

"You don't seem very pleased."

"I don't feel very pleased. I loved David. And Torben was a good friend. Their reputations won't look much better than Lazenby's when this is over."

That can't be helped."

"We're talking about your son, Harry. Doesn't it matter to you what people think of him?"

"Not as much as what he thinks of me '

There you go with that stubborn present tense again. As if I can summon up a miracle for you."

"Last night you seemed to believe you could."

"I wondered whether you'd mention last night or simply pretend it never happened. Walking out on me was a kind of denial, wasn't it?"

"Donna, I .. ."

"Don't say you're sorry. Please don't say that."

"I left without waking you so you wouldn't have the chance to stop me keeping my appointment with Lazenby. No other reason."

"You felt guilty, Harry. That's the truth. And that makes me feel guilty too. Which I don't like. For somebody old enough to be my father, you don't handle your emotions with much maturity." She sighed. "But you do work miracles, it seems. Even if the one you really want's beyond you. How did you pull it off?"

"It was easy." Though not as easy as he was about to make it sound. He had already decided Donna did not need to know or worry about Barry's involvement in the affair. "I told Lazenby my partner was ill. During our meeting, he left the room for a few minutes. That's when I retrieved the tape. It was where Torben said it would be. No problem."

"No problem? Come on. Lazenby would never leave a stranger alone in his office. It can't have been that simple."

"He must be losing his touch. There's the tape to prove it."

"Yuh." She tapped the cassette against the rim of the steering-wheel. "Reel-to-reel salvation. And you just hand it to me. Like shelling a pea."

"It worked. Sometimes things do."

"And now you're going to say we need to move fast. That sitting here is just a waste of time."

"Well, we agreed '

"Don't tell me what we agreed. I remember. And you're right. On just about every count. I would have tried to talk you out of it this morning. I happen to care about you. That's why I haven't already driven off into the night with the tape in my purse. Because I think you're trying to get rid of me. And the reason has to be you're afraid Lazenby will come after you. So you want me out of the way."

"Of course I do. But only for safety's sake. Lazenby suspects nothing."

"I don't know you well enough to tell if you're lying."

"I'm not lying. Take the tape and go. I'll book us both out of the hotel tomorrow. Then I'll catch a train to New York, call on Woodrow to set his mind at rest, and fly back to England. I'll tell

Iris you're going to contact Hector Sandoval and do your level best to persuade him to consider David's case. Fair enough?"

"Oh, it's fair. And I'll do it. Just as soon as there's so much adverse publicity slewing around Lazenby that coming after us no longer makes sense. But '

"How long?"

"A few weeks, I guess. Maybe less. The newspapers will bite our hands off for the story. But you can come back with me to Dallas and call Iris from there. Doesn't it make sense to stick together now we've come this far?"

"It's not what we planned to do. And the plan's worked. Let's not abandon it now."

"This isn't about the plan, Harry. There's something you're holding back."

"There's nothing."

"What is it?"

"You ought to be on your way, Donna." He looked at her, the shadows veiling her mouth and eyes, and steeled himself to go on lying as long as he needed to. He did not fear Lazenby. Not as much, anyway, as he feared the thicket of conflicting emotions he and Donna would enter if they stayed together. To go now was best. For them and David. But it hardly felt like it. "I ought to be on my way too."

"I haven't even thanked you, have I?"

"Make good use of the tape. And don't take no for an answer from Sandoval. That's the only thanks I need." He opened his door and started to slide out, meaning to forestall their farewell. If they kissed, his resolution might crumple. If they said goodbye, they might fail to part.

"Harry Her hand touched his sleeve. He hesitated and looked back at her. She had leant towards him, into a shaft of yellow light cast by a street-lamp twenty yards away. She was confused and weary, as fearful as she was hopeful. She was not sure what to do. She trusted him. But she did not believe him. She needed time. But there was none to spare. "Look after yourself now. Not me. Not David. Not anyone. Just you."

"Don't worry. I've always been a selfish bugger."

"I'll be in touch as soon as I can."

"I'm relying on it."

"Do you really have to She stared at him, silently imploring him to make up her mind for her. "Can't we '

"It's OK, Donna. Go now." He climbed out onto the pavement and closed the door, then stood in the inky overhang of the roadside trees and waited for her to drive away. A few moments passed, then the engine started and the car moved slowly off. Only when he was certain she did not mean to stop did he wish she would, instantly and intensely.

FORTY-SIX

Harry slept badly, alternating between shallow descents into fretful dreaming and long wakeful ruminations on the success of his visit to Globescope. The totality of that success the simplicity it had acquired in his mind was in some ways its most worrying feature. Could it really be so easy?

He rose well before dawn, bathed, shaved, breakfasted on black coffee and Marlboro cigarettes, then packed his bags and prepared to book himself and his absent neighbour out of the hotel. His departure was needlessly early for the itinerary he had proclaimed to Donna. But that had been a drastically edited version of his true intentions. If she had known what they were, she would have refused to leave without him. And the errands he had in mind were best run alone.

The first would take him to David's house in Georgetown, which he had promised Hammelgaard he would search for records of David's most recent hyper-dimensional research. He was hardly the ideal candidate to carry out such a task. Nor was this the ideal time to attempt it. Donna, who would have known what to look for a lot better than him, would have denounced it as foolhardy when there was so much still to be lost and gained. But a promise was a promise, especially one given to a dead man. And Harry was about to leave Washington, conceivably never to return. He could scarcely bear to go without seeing his son's home. The place had been unoccupied and unvisited for more than two months. It was not likely Lazenby was keeping it under surveillance. As risk-running went, this was small beer.

BOOK: Out of the Sun
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