It made me wonder, too. Ottinger was still a possibility. But who was the mystery man? And did Irene’s behavior toward him mean anything at all? The questions and speculation kept me tossing and turning in bed for hours.
THIRTY-SIX
On Monday, all morning long, I tried to find a few minutes to chat with Charlie. I hoped he would tell me who typically met the visiting scientists at the train station. However, work kept me extremely busy as the morning went by in a blur of frenzied testing. I didn’t even notice as one chemist after another left for lunch. Charlie startled me when he approached from behind and said, ‘Libby, you’ve got to get something to eat.’
‘I haven’t reached a stopping point, Charlie. When I do, I will.’
‘How about if I run to the canteen and grab a couple of sandwiches? You can bite and chew while you work, can’t you?’
‘Sure, Charlie.’ I never noticed him leave and was not at all aware of the passage of time, making his return with food feel like magic.
‘C’mon, Libby. You’ve got at least fifteen minutes before you need to intervene in the process. Sit in my office and eat lunch with me.’
‘I don’t know, Charlie. I don’t like to walk away in the middle of—’
‘Libby, honestly, at this stage, you don’t need to hover over it. You know that.’
He was right, I couldn’t argue. I followed him back to his office, realizing how hungry I was the moment I took the first bite. The question I wanted to ask popped back into my mind. ‘Charlie, when I first got to Knoxville, you met me at the train station and drove me inside the fence. Did you do that with everyone here?’
‘Oh mercy no.’
‘Who brought them to the labs?’
‘They had to get here on their own in those army cattle cars they call buses. You’ve gone to Knoxville in one, haven’t you?’
‘No. My old roommate was always asking me to go into town with her on Monday night but I never managed to get around to it.’
‘They’re really primitive, Libby. Plywood seats and usually not enough of them. You want it to stop and you pull a chain that’s supposed to ring a bell in the cab of the truck but it usually doesn’t work. Some of the guys here said everyone would pound on the sides but often still couldn’t be heard. Sometimes, the riders have gotten so frustrated that they start deconstructing the thing from the inside, pulling out slats around the locked door just to get out.’
‘We don’t make visitors come here that way, do we? I mean, important scientists, General Groves, people like that?’
‘Oh no. The general and other high ranking officers get met by a military driver. The scientists have a car pick them up. I’ve done that a couple of times, filling in for Dr Bishop when he couldn’t get away.’
‘Dr Bishop?’ I struggled to hide the feeling of alarm his comment induced.
‘Yes. He’s usually the one to escort them to the guest house and to the lab but occasionally he’s not available.’
‘Well, I’d better get back to my lab bench.’ I walked away very disturbed. Not Dr Bishop. He couldn’t have been having an affair with Irene, could he? No, I needed to put that thought out of my mind. Impossible.
That afternoon, I didn’t dare allow my mind to wander away from the work at hand until around four o’clock, when I was interrupted by Ann. I looked up to see her standing stock-still, staring at me. I blushed, embarrassed that she might have read my thoughts about her father.
‘Dad said you have to come to dinner tonight,’ Ann whispered. ‘Mom’s not too happy because she was just planning on leftovers. Told Dad the only other thing she had was a couple of cans of spam and it was too late in the day to go find anything else. I’ve been listening to Dad insisting in one ear and Mom complaining on the phone in my other ear. All I know is that you’d better be there even if Mom is serving cardboard.’
‘If I can get this done in time, Ann.’
‘You’d better. Be there at six. You and Dad are driving me crazy, Libby!’ Ann spun around and flounced out of the room.
At 5:45, I wanted to start another test but relented and headed out the door and up the hill to the Bishop residence. When I arrived a few minutes after the hour, Mrs Bishop seemed a bit put out. No warm welcome that day. Was she irritated that I was late? Or simply annoyed that I was there? Conversation at the dinner table was stilted and focused completely on practical matters, like ‘please pass the salt’ and ‘thank you’. I hadn’t felt so relieved to push away from a table since I was a child.
I wanted to help Ann and Mrs Bishop clean up but Dr Bishop insisted that we go into the other room to talk.
‘I think Bill Ottinger is your man,’ he began.
I looked into his eyes but the moment I did, his darted away from mine. My suspicions from earlier that day returned, etching on my nerves like acid on glass. ‘What made you reach that conclusion, sir?’
‘I’ve asked around and it seems he left Columbia University after a bit of a scandal. It involved affairs with several of his students. One I heard was carrying his child. He left town as quickly as he could, deserting that poor girl. And, now, tucked away here, no one can come after him.’
‘That does raise some suspicions,’ I conceded.
‘You said Irene was pregnant when she died, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. Yes she was.’
‘You see, this time he couldn’t run away. He knows too much. He’s involved in something top secret at K-25 and he’s pivotal to the work. Not only would they hunt him down if he ran off and either bring him back here or charge him with treason, but if he stayed put, they’d protect him at all costs even if he had killed Irene.’
I came close to telling him about Ottinger’s unpleasant inter-action with Irene at the guest house, but an intuitive impulse urged caution so I listened without making any objection. What he said was certainly plausible but what if it was all a lie – a fabrication to divert attention from himself? I felt like I was treading water in a murky swamp of uncertainty. In a lab, there are tests for that; in real life, it was hard to know what to do. To Dr Bishop, I simply nodded and said, ‘You make good points. So what do we do now?’
‘I’ve already spoken to Lieutenant Colonel Crenshaw. And to the chief administrator at Roane-Anderson. They have promised me they will look into it.’
‘But I thought you said they would protect him at any cost?’
‘Yes and they will. I asked them what they would do when they found out I was right. Crenshaw said, “We can’t lose him but we will keep him closely contained.”’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means nothing will happen to him now – maybe he’ll be charged after we win the war. But right now, they’ll have military personnel following him everywhere. He won’t be able to engage in adulterous activity. If he can’t do that, he can’t kill anyone else.’
‘That’s not exactly what I would call justice,’ I objected.
‘It’s the most you can expect right now, Libby. We are at war and Ottinger is indispensible – winning the war is more important than some little girl from the country. I know that sounds unfair, but that is the way it is.’
‘And what if the military decides you’re right? And what if both of you are wrong? Does that mean someone, somewhere, is free to take another girl’s life?’
‘Just hope I’m right, Libby. Get your coat, I’ll give you a lift home.’
That invitation made me nervous. Something felt wrong. Concerns about Ottinger’s possible involvement made sense but Dr Bishop’s certainty seemed out of proportion with the evidence. ‘No, no thank you. I’d like to walk tonight.’
He objected but I brushed away his concerns. Once again, the thought of being alone with him made me very uncomfortable. I thanked Mrs Bishop for supper and she snapped back, ‘Sarcasm is not becoming in a young lady, Miss Clark.’
I started to object – admittedly the spam and baked beans were a bit boring, but the homed-canned applesauce Mrs Bishop ha
d pulled out of her pantry made the meal a treat. However, seeing the look in the other woman’s eyes I simply said, ‘Goodnight, ma’am.’
Walking home I tried to figure out the meaning of what had happened that night. Ann had hardly spoken to me. Mrs Bishop, the most welcoming hostess I’d ever known, was now hostile and unfriendly. And Dr Bishop? He was the most puzzling of all. He was jumping – leaping – to conclusions. He was a scientist. Scientists don’t do that. We always want definitive proof. By the time, I reached home, things made even less sense to me …
THIRTY-SEVEN
I felt dreadful the next morning. Sleep had been elusive, fitful, haunted by frightening dreams that I could not remember except for the stark image of Irene’s body, strangled under the bleachers. Every time I awoke, I reminded myself that, for now, the Ottinger problem was out of my hands, the investigation into his possible involvement out of my control.
In the cold light of morning, though, I wondered if I’d get any answers no matter how well the authorities investigated. Would I ever be told about the conclusions they reached, the actions they’d taken? Probably not. That meant I’d have to find out more information about Ottinger and his whereabouts on Christmas night. That was dangerous territory. Making inquiries about a scientist of his caliber could be interpreted as digging for secrets about his work.
Maybe the Walking Molecules could figure something out at their regular meeting tonight. If not, I’d have all day Sunday to sort through the problems and decide who was the most likely to have had an affair with Irene, to have killed Irene. Was it Ottinger? Dr Bishop? Or someone else entirely?
As a scientist, I’d been trained to compartmentalize. I needed to use those skills now; my attention must be on the work at hand. I was engrossed until Gregg walked past my station, poked my side and said, ‘Looks like you’re needed,’ as he nodded towards the door.
There was Ann, hands on her hips, feet spread, a scowl on her face. Oh good heavens, what now? I did a quick check on the progress of the spectrograph; I had a few minutes to spare. I brushed past Ann and headed straight for the restroom. I leaned on the wall with my arms folded across my chest and waited for Ann. As soon as she opened the door, I said, ‘What now, Ann?’
‘What are you doing?’
‘I was running some tests when you interrupted me.’
‘Don’t be a smart aleck. You know what I mean. What are you and Dad up to? What is going on?’
‘Ann, you know I can’t answer those questions.’
‘Don’t pull that security line on me. Don’t tell me it has to do with your work. It’s something personal. I know it.’
‘Yes, in a way, it is. But your dad made me promise not to tell you.’
‘I thought we were friends, Libby. Whatever you’re doing is tearing my family apart.’
‘What are you talking about, Ann?’
‘Last night, after they thought I was asleep, my parents were arguing. I didn’t understand what they were saying. I even wondered if you and my dad were having an affair, but I just couldn’t believe that could be true.’
‘It’s not true, Ann.’
‘Well, then, what is it? Why were they arguing about you?’
‘Obviously, your mother didn’t want me to come to dinner last night.’
‘But why not, Libby? Why not? She’s been encouraging me to spend time with you and now she doesn’t want you around? What gives?’
‘Exactly what were your parents arguing about – what about me caused their disagreement?’
‘Mom said that you knew. She said that she was sure you knew. Knew what, Libby? What was she talking about?’
‘How did your father answer her?’
‘He said that he didn’t think so. He said that you were focused on Dr Ottinger now. Who’s Dr Ottinger? And what are you doing with him?’
‘What did your mother say when he said that?’
‘She said, “You’re wrong, Marc. I saw it in her eyes. You need to leave, now, before they start questioning you.” Who are “they”, Libby and what would they question him about?’
‘Ann, just tell me the whole conversation first and I’ll see if I can figure it all out.’
‘Then my dad said, “You know I did nothing to hurt that girl. You know I wasn’t there. You know it wasn’t me.” And Mom said, “It doesn’t matter what I know. If the truth comes out, it will be a scandal. But if you run off and hide somewhere until after the war, everyone will forget. Ann and I can live with my parents for the duration. You have to think of us first.” Dad left the house then. He slammed the door when he did. Dad never slams doors. I lay awake for hours waiting for him to come back, worrying that he had left for good. Then a little after three, I heard the door open and close and finally I could get to sleep. Libby, you have to tell me what’s going on. I’m scared. I’m confused.’
I gently placed my hands on Ann’s upper arms and looked straight into her eyes. ‘I am sorry for what you are going through, Ann. Right now, though, I don’t have any real answers. I’m confused, too. But I’m going to figure this out. One way or another, I will find answers. When I do, I will let you know. Just now, I feel like I’ve been turned upside down and shaken, and set back down with the ground shifting beneath my feet. I imagine you feel that way, too. But, please, trust me, for just a little bit longer.’
‘I don’t know how long I can stand this, Libby. I feel worse than when I was a little girl and the milkman ran over my puppy with his truck. I never thought I’d ever feel any worse than that, but I do.’
I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug. ‘I’m sorry, Ann. I’ll do everything I can to make the world right again for all of us. Right now, though, I need to get back to work and try to do what I can to end this war. You understand that, don’t you?’
Ann’s long face looked bleak. ‘Yeah, the war,’ she mumbled, ‘the war always comes first.’
As her slumped shoulders and weary shuffling feet left the restroom, I hustled back to my tests, regretting everything.
When chaos erupted in the Calutron area, I looked over at Charlie on the other side of the room. Without a word, we both raced out of the lab to find the source of the problem. The moment we reached the machinery, the situation was obvious.
A man was pinned to the racetrack, held there by a sheet of metal plate. He’d obviously gotten too close to the Calutron with the piece of metal in his hand. We’d all been warned about the proximity of anything that responded to magnetic pull. It was clearly a careless mistake.
Charlie shouted, ‘Why the hell did he bring that in here?’
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ engineer Mike DeVries shouted back. ‘Shut down the magnet!’
In moments, the cry of, ‘shut down the magnet,’ were coming from nearly everyone gathered in the vicinity.
‘I’m not going to do it,’ the foreman yelled. ‘Listen, people, there are three hundred people an hour being killed in this war. If I shut down a magnet, it could take us as long as a week to get it back up and stabilized and producing again. A week lost, more than two thousand dead. I will not do it.’
Charlie shouted over the noise, ‘We can’t just leave him there.’
‘It’s our job to stop the war.’ Pointing at the pinned man, he said, ‘It’s his job to stop the war. Right now, we all have to act as if we were the only people in the world with that responsibility. Any damage done to this man is already done. Shutting down the magnet won’t change that.’
The cries to shut down faded away. Clusters of people gathered in conversation. I felt so helpless. I tried to conjure up a solution but nothing was coming to mind. Was the man crying or moaning? It was impossible to hear above the clatter of the relentless racetrack spinning away.
DeVries ran up to the foreman, leaned into his ear. The foreman nodded and yelled, ‘Two by fours. We need some two by fours.’
A couple of men came running up with lumber. They shoved the boards under one side of the plate and put all their
weight on it to leverage it away from the magnet. Their veins bulged, sweat appeared on their foreheads. Finally, their efforts paid off. The sheet of metal pulled away, and clanked to the floor. The man slumped to the ground. Men with a stretcher appeared out of nowhere, picked him up and hurried him away.
Like everyone else who’d witnessed the event in the Calutron room, Charlie and I both had trouble concentrating on our work. We frequently exchanged glances of concern across the room. Hours later, Charlie stood beside me and said, ‘He’s going to be all right.’
‘Really? Are you sure?’
‘Yes. He’s got bruises and a few cuts. But no internal bleeding. The doctor ordered bed rest for a couple of days and then he should be back at work. And, hopefully, more careful.’
The day had been emotionally draining. I just wanted to go home and curl up by the fire with a book. But I had a Walking Molecules meeting and a commitment to Ann and to Irene’s family. I pulled on my galoshes and trudged out the door to Joe’s.
THIRTY-EIGHT
When I stepped outside, Teddy was standing on the sidewalk. I’d pressured him into agreeing not to meet me alone anywhere, any time, until the situation was resolved. But there he was.
‘Before you say anything, I have no excuse but now that I’m here, we might as well walk to the meeting together,’ he said.
I should refuse. I should chastise him. But, in all honesty, I was really glad to see him. ‘You’re right. Harm’s already done. Let’s go.’
As we walked up the boardwalk, Ottinger hurried toward us. One hand held his hat in place, the other waved wildly in the air. As he got closer, he shouted, ‘Clark! Elizabeth Clark!’
Teddy stepped between me and the onrushing man. ‘What do you want?’
‘I need to talk to Miss Clark.’
‘About what?’ Teddy said, holding his ground.
Ottinger tried to push him aside. Teddy shifted his weight and held firm. ‘I think you’d better tell me what this is all about.’
Scandal in the Secret City Page 24
