Gone Fishing Page 3
the one subject of that cockeyedinvention of his, he behaved perfectly normally. Besides he would havehired a lawyer and fought any such move. He had plenty of money. Andnobody wanted publicity. McAllen was a pretty likable old boy."
"The university never considered taking him back?"
Elby laughed. "Well, hardly! After all, man--a matter transmitter!"
Barney felt an almost electric thrill of pleasure. Right on the nose,Brother Chard! Right on the nose.
He smiled. "Was that what it was supposed to be? I never was told allthe details."
Elby said that for the few who were informed of the details it hadbeen a seven-day circus. McAllen's reputation was such that morepeople, particularly on his staff, had been ready to believe him thatwere ready to admit it later. "When he'd left--you know, he never evenbothered to take that 'transmitter' along--the thing was taken apartand checked over as carefully as if somebody thought it might stillsuddenly start working. But it was an absolute Goldberg, of course.The old man had simply gone off his rocker."
"Hadn't there been any indication of it before?"
"Not that I know of. Except that he'd been dropping hints about hisgadget for several months before he showed it to anyone," Elby saidindifferently. The talk turned to other things.
* * * * *
The rest was routine, not difficult to carry out. A small cottage onMallorca, near the waterfront, was found to be in McAllen's name.McAllen's liquid assets were established to have dwindled to somethingless than those of John Emanuel Fredericks, who patronized the samelocal bank as his employer. There had been frequent withdrawals oflarge, irregular sums throughout the past years. The withdrawals werenot explained by McAllen's frugal personal habits; even his fishingexcursions showed an obvious concern for expense. The retention of theMediterranean retreat, modest though it was, must have a reason beyondsimple self-indulgence.
Barney arranged for the rental of a bungalow in the outskirts ofSweetwater beach, which lay uphill from the old house in which McAllenand Fredericks lived, and provided a good view of the residence andits street entry. He didn't go near the place himself. Operatives of aLos Angeles detective agency went on constant watch in the bungalow,with orders to photograph the two old men in the other house and anyvisitors at every appearance, and to record the exact times thepictures were taken. At the end of each day the photographs weredelivered to an address from where they promptly reached Barney'shands.
A European agency was independently covering the Mallorca cottage inthe same manner.
Nearly four weeks passed before Barney obtained the exact results hewanted. He called off the watch at both points, and next day came upthe walk to McAllen's home and rang the doorbell. John Fredericksappeared, studied Barney's card and Barney with an air of milddisapproval, and informed him that Dr. McAllen did not receivevisitors.
"So I've been told," Barney acknowledged pleasantly. "Please be sogood as to give the doctor this."
Fredericks' white eyebrows lifted by the barest trifle as he looked atthe sealed envelope Barney was holding out. After a moment'shesitation he took it, instructed Barney to wait, and closed the doorfirmly.
Listening to Fredericks' footsteps receding into the house, Barney lita cigarette, and was pleased to find that his hands were as steady asif he had been on the most ordinary of calls. The envelope containedtwo sets of photographs, dated and indicating the time of day. Thedate was the same for both sets; the recorded time showed the pictureshad been taken within fifteen minutes of one another. The centralsubject in each case was Dr. McAllen, sometimes accompanied byFredericks. One set of photographs had been obtained on Mallorca, theother in Sweetwater Beach at McAllen's house.
Barring rocket assists, the two old men had been documented as thefastest moving human beings in all history.
Several minutes passed before Fredericks reappeared. With a face whichwas now completely without expression, he invited Barney to enter, andconducted him to McAllen's study. The scientist had the photographsspread out on a desk before him. He gestured at them.
"Just what--if anything--is this supposed to mean, sir?" he demandedin an unsteady voice.
Barney hesitated aware that Fredericks had remained in the hall justbeyond the study. But Fredericks obviously was in McAllen'sconfidence. His eavesdropping could do no harm.
"It means this, doctor--" Barney began, amiably enough; and heproceeded to tell McAllen precisely what the photographs meant.McAllen broke in protestingly two or three times, then let Barneyconclude his account of the steps he had taken to verify hisfarfetched hunch on the pier without further comment. After a fewminutes Barney heard Fredericks' steps moving away, and then a doorclosing softly somewhere, and he shifted his position a trifle so thathis right side was now toward the hall door. The little revolver wasin the right-hand coat pocket. Even then Barney had no real concernthat McAllen or Fredericks would attempt to resort to violence, butwhen people are acutely disturbed--and McAllen at least was--almostanything can happen.
* * * * *
When Barney finished, McAllen stared down at the photographs again,shook his head, and looked over at Barney.
"If you don't mind," he said, blinking behind his glasses, "I shouldlike to think about this for a minute or two."
"Of course, doctor," Barney said politely. McAllen settled back in thechair, removed his glasses and half closed his eyes. Barney let hisgaze rove. The furnishings of the house were what he hadexpected--well-tended, old, declining here and there to the downrightshabby. The only reasonably new piece in the study was aradio-phonograph. The walls of the study and of the section of aliving room he could see through a small archway were lined withcrammed bookshelves. At the far end of the living room was a curiouscollection of clocks in various types and sizes, mainly antiques, butalso some odd metallic pieces with modernistic faces. Vacancies in therows indicated Fredericks might have begun to dispose discreetly ofthe more valuable items on his employer's behalf.
McAllen cleared his throat finally, opened his eyes, and settled thespectacles back on his nose.
"Mr. Chard," he inquired, "have you had scientific training?"
"No."
"Then," said McAllen, "the question remains of what your interest inthe matter is. Perhaps you'd like to explain just why you put yourselfto such considerable expense to intrude on my personal affairs--"
Barney hesitated perceptibly. "Doctor," he said, "there is somethingtantalizing about an enigma. I'm fortunate in having the financialmeans to gratify my curiosity when it's excited to the extent it washere."
McAllen nodded. "I can understand curiosity. Was that your onlymotive?"
Barney gave him his most disarming grin. "Frankly no. I've mentionedI'm a businessman--"
"Ah!" McAllen said, frowning.
"Don't misunderstand me. One of my first thoughts admittedly was thathere were millions waiting to be picked up. But the investigation soonmade a number of things clear to me."
"What were they?"
"Essentially, that you had so sound a reason for keeping yourinvention a secret that to do it you were willing to ruin yourselffinancially, and to efface yourself as a human being and as ascientist."
"I don't feel," McAllen observed mildly, "that I really have effacedmyself, either as a human being or as a scientist."
"No, but as far as the public was concerned you did both."
McAllen smiled briefly. "That strategem was very effective--until now.Very well, Mr. Chard. You understand clearly that under nocircumstances would I agree to the commercialization of ... well, ofmy matter transmitter?"
Barney nodded. "Of course."
"And you're still interested?"
"Very much so."
McAllen was silent for a few seconds, biting reflectively at his lowerlip. "Very well," he said again. "You were speaking of my predilectionfor fishing. Perhaps you'd care to accompany me on a brief fishingtrip?"
"Now?" Barney asked.
&nbs
p; "Yes, now. I believe you understand what I mean ... I see you do.Then, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes--"
* * * * *
Barney couldn't have said exactly what he expected to be shown. Hisimaginings had run in the direction of a camouflaged vault beneathMcAllen's house--some massively-walled place with machinery thatpowered the matter transmitter purring along the walls ... and perhapssomething in the style of a plastic diving bell as the specificinstrument of transportation.
The actual experience was quite different. McAllen returned shortly,having changed into the familiar outdoor clothing--apparently