Memoirs Of An Invisible Man (29 page)

No information whatever. Zero.

Why hadn’t Anne returned my calls? She might know something useful. I called her number at the
Times
again. Not in. Couldn’t be reached. Monday. I could leave a message. I left my name.

Call Leary.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number, clearing my throat and trying to compose myself. It was essential that my voice not quaver. If I got through this, I would be safe at least through the weekend, and maybe much longer.

“594-3120,” answered a female voice. Always reassuring when someone answers with a phone number like that. Personal touch.

“Hello, is this the U.S. Industrial Research Safety Commission?”

“To whom would you like to speak?”

“I’d like to speak to Mr. Leary, please.”

She didn’t ask who I was. There was an immediate warbling sound on the line and then a male voice saying, “Leary.”

“Hello. This is Nicholas Halloway returning your call.” I thought I sounded all right. Calm, civil, but not solicitous: I should absolutely not sound as if I cared in any way about this call. Indifferent.

“Thank you for calling back, Mr. Halloway. I’m calling from the regional office of the U.S. Industrial Research Safety Commission in connection with an investigation into the incident on Wednesday, April third, at the MicroMagnetics, Incorporated, research facility in Lamberton, New Jersey. I would like to confirm that you were at the Micro-Magnetics facility on that date.”

He spoke in such a mechanical monotone — almost as if he were reading a prepared speech with some difficulty — that it took me a moment to realize I had been asked a question. No, I longed to answer, I was not there, not on that date, or any other. I was miles away. This is all a mistake. Goodbye.

“Yes,” I said. “Terrible thing. Horrible. Although actually, I’m afraid I can’t really be of much help to you. I wasn’t paying much attention at the time — I mean after they evacuated the building. I wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t actually see the explosion or whatever it was. Probably a waste of time to talk to me at all.”

“We need a signed statement from everyone present at the time of the incident, and particularly as no one seems to have gotten any statement from you immediately subsequent to—”

“I was really a bit off that day, and what with the rain and all, I took the first ride I could get — some people from the university, faculty of some sort. Nice of them to take me.”

“We don’t want to trouble you any more than necessary, Mr. Halloway. If you’re going to be in your office, I’d like to stop by right now and get this out of the way. It should take only a few minutes.”

“That would be fine except that I’m just on my way out of the office now, and to tell you the truth I’m running a little late—”

“I’m only a few minutes away, Mr. Halloway, if—”

“Really?” I said. “Where are you? Perhaps I could stop by your office at some point.”

“That’s not necessary, Mr. Halloway. If you could spare—”

“Just let me get out my appointment book here. I understand you want to do this as promptly as possible… Let’s see, I’m out of town most of next week… You probably have a lot of people to chase after… How about the week after next? I can set aside as much time as you like, say, a week from Tues—”

“I could meet with you later this afternoon or anytime this evening, as soon as you’re free.”

“Or — wait a minute — what about the end of next week? Early Friday morning, before—”

“Or I can come to your residence over the weekend.”

“That’s extraordinarily kind. Unfortunately, I’m getting out of the city for the weekend. I can see that you really want to get this out of the way, and I want to accommodate you… It’s just that this is an incredibly busy few weeks for me just now… You know, it occurs to me that we might be able to do this right now over the telephone. I could take a few minutes and answer all your questions right now.”

“Mr. Halloway, we don’t want to inconvenience you, but I’m going to need a few minutes with you in person. I could see you tonight before you leave, or Sunday evening. Where will you be this weekend?”

“That’s extremely kind, but just let me take a look at my schedule here and see if I can’t work out something more convenient for both of us. Tell me — I’m looking in my book — when do you absolutely have to have this wound up?”

“No later than Wednesday morning, I—”

“Let me see… I’m going to just move some appointments and make time… You think half an hour would do it?”

“That would be more than—”

“I’m going to leave a full hour clear just to be sure. Two o’clock, Tuesday afternoon, in my office?”

“Two o’clock Tuesday then. I’d like to confirm your address: Three twenty-five Park Avenue, twenty-third floor, Shipway & Whitman.”

“That’s it. I look forward to meeting you. Very impressive the way you people are getting right on this so quickly. I hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything else I can do to be of help.”

“There is one other thing you could do right now.”

“Yes?” I said, feeling apprehensive.

“We’d like the names of all the people you knew at the scene of the incident.”

More names for their list. I considered briefly giving him some random names in order to enlarge his task, but decided that was a risky tactic.

“Of course. There was Anne Epstein, from the
Times:
she was the person I came with, actually. And come to think of it, she was the only person there I knew.”

“Did you meet anyone or hear anyone addressed by name while you were there?”

No point in lying. They would have talked to Anne.

“As a matter of fact, you’re right. I saw the student who was blown up, Carillon. I didn’t really talk to him. Anne interviewed him. And there was Wachs, of course. I introduced myself to him in the hall before he went in to hold the press conference.”

Wonderful. The only people I had spoken to were the two principal lunatics. And I had talked to them just before they incinerated themselves. If this man were doing his job properly he would insist on seeing me immediately.

“One other thing, Mr. Halloway. Were you aware of anyone remaining in the building after the evacuation, or of anyone being missing afterward?”

“Not that I know of. But I was one of the first people out. They seemed to be doing a great job clearing the building. Of course, you must be concerned that there might have been other victims.”

“Thank you, Mr. Halloway. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

No, you won’t. You won’t see me ever. Nor will anyone else.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

I felt in a way relieved. I now had at least until Tuesday afternoon, almost five days. Maybe I did. I wondered if Leary knew what he was really looking for. There must be several Learys dividing up that list. Would they all have been told that they were looking for an invisible man? Unlikely. But if Leary did know, he would call right back to my office. Because if I really was there, in plain view of receptionists and secretaries and colleagues, then his question was answered. I dialed my office again and got Cathy.

“Cathy, I just got off the phone with your friend Leary of the Ministry for Industrial Sabotage or whatever. Highly tedious and difficult to escape. He hasn’t called back again, has he?”

“No.”

“Well, if he does, tell him I just walked out of the office, and I’m going out of town forever, and if I do come back my schedule will be full. Actually, I gave him an appointment for two o’clock next Tuesday at the office, but I absolutely don’t want to take his calls or waste any more time on him until then. If he calls back, make sure you tell him I just stepped out. I’ll be here at home the rest of the afternoon. If he or anyone else calls, give me a call here and let me know. Thanks. Have a good weekend if I don’t talk to you.”

It was four o’clock. When the phone had not rung by five, I knew I was safe until Tuesday. I don’t know why I felt relieved. I had only deferred the problem for four days. But that was something.

I went into the kitchen and mixed myself a gin and tonic to celebrate. They certainly wouldn’t be coming for me this evening. Remembering Cathy’s report of seeing the fire on the evening news, I switched on the television in the kitchen for the six o’clock local report. It was comforting to sit there passively watching the familiar, amiable faces of the “Metro News Team.” I was even beginning to enjoy watching my glass tip the liquid into the air and seeing my esophagus take a brief liquid form before fading again from view. I was hoping for extensive coverage, with dramatic tape footage of the terrible events at MicroMagnetics. The newspapers were too busy with weighty matters like politics, but I knew that the Metro News Team had an unblemished record when it came to coverage of fires. I looked forward to it. It would make me feel almost smug. And it might make the whole thing seem a little more real and less dreamlike if I could listen to other people describing those events.

I watched the mayor visiting a neighborhood shared uneasily by Hasidic Jews and Jamaicans and talking of racial harmony to a small and sullen band of passers-by. Undersecretaries of state continued their endless shuttling in and out of Lebanon. A Ukrainian holiday was given a traditional celebration in a Queens nursing home. The weather was predicted. Baseball and basketball games were played.

Then a brief view of flames against a background of trees and Joan’s voice: “Fire broke out for a second time in as many days at a small laboratory near Princeton, New Jersey, when smoldering remnants of the original blaze ignited a fuel tank. A spokesman for local police says that although the laboratory was the site of research related to nuclear fusion, there was
no
nuclear material at the site and
no
risk of contamination. However, authorities are keeping the area cordoned off as a precautionary measure.” The flames and trees abruptly vanished, revealing the familiar view of the Metro News Team at their desks. Joan, turning to John, said earnestly, “John, that fire was apparently set off when an explosive device carried by antinuclear demonstrators accidentally detonated, and as we reported yesterday, it claimed the life of at least one demonstrator and one scientist. Authorities say that they are still searching the debris for any sign of further victims, but it may be some time before the final death toll is known. Police are seeking several members of the protest group who are believed to have information about the blast, but at this point no formal charges have been filed. We’ll be bringing updates on that story as it develops.” Joan frowned solemnly. “Thank you, Joan,” said John.

That was it. I continued to watch, sitting through the national news: more undersecretaries piling into Lebanon – soon there would be enough of them so that they could form their own faction there and demand participation in the government; flooding interfering with crops somewhere; something about Bulgaria; the Dow Jones Industrials up nearly twelve points at closing. Who cares now? I couldn’t concentrate. I was invisible. Why weren’t they covering my disaster? Even without me, it seemed so interesting: radicals, sabotage, fire, death, and some sort of scientific breakthrough — I wish I knew exactly what sort. But then they didn’t seem to have gotten any of the really interesting facts, and the uninteresting ones they
had
got were mostly wrong. Perhaps they were right after all: it was just another fire.

After the news was over, I tried to watch some sort of situation comedy, but I found that I was having trouble concentrating, and I switched it off. It was getting cooler, and I remembered that I was naked. It was unpleasant, walking around naked all day. I went through the apartment pulling all the shades and curtains, and then put on my bathrobe, wrapping it tight around me and knotting the belt. It was a full-length robe and it made me feel more substantial. A human shape. I put my hands in the pockets so I wouldn’t have to see the empty sleeve openings. Perhaps I should put on slippers as well. As long as you don’t look in a mirror, you never notice that you are headless. I mixed another gin and tonic. Amusing the way the ice cubes float across the room and into the glass. Really, I could safely eat the fish and the shining noodles now.

While I prepared the food, I switched on the television again. There was some sort of political discussion on Channel 13. After that I found a basketball game. The food was unspeakably good, even if it did make a rather slimy mess in my stomach. Pale and glistening, like a massive slug. I opened a bottle of the white wine to go with it and drew my bathrobe tighter across my torso to close off the view. Tomorrow I would really try to limit myself to bouillon and vitamins. It was just a matter of getting used to it. This was not so terrible. I was far better off than Wachs or Carillon. Why hadn’t Anne called? When the wine bottle was empty, I poured myself another gin and tonic.

I dialed Anne at home. She picked up on the first ring.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Anne. How are you?”

“Oh, it’s
you.
I’m glad you called, Nick. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I was afraid you might have called while I was out,” I said. “The reason I’ve been trying to call you—”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult to reach. I’ve been working on this
SFW
story.”

“SFW?”

“Students for a Fair World. You know: Robert Carillon. Micro-Magnetics. It’s an incredible story.”

“I saw your article in the
Times
today.”

“That was terrible. They’re trying to kill the story. Stonewalling us on everything. The thing today was just to keep the pressure on. But did you see what I did on it yesterday?”

“I never got to the paper yesterday. I’ve been so busy—”

“Front page.”

“That’s great, Anne. I—”

“Do you have any idea how incredible this story really is?”

“Nobody knows what really happened down there. It’s absolutely unbelievable. They’re trying to keep a lid on it, but I’m going to blow it wide open.”

“What do you—”

“It’s a complete cover-up! Have you seen the official statements? They’re saying the whole thing was just a fire. And on top of everything else, they’re blaming it on the demonstrators. But they can’t cover up a story like this. Once I get some hard evidence of what actually happened down there, I’ll blow the whole thing open. The
Times
is behind me a hundred percent. I don’t care if this takes a year—”