thing around. He’s got to get it out.”

“What makes you think I won’t be safe?” Selma said, and her smile was hazy with alcohol.

Catell made an impatient gesture. “I’ll move it. Don’t worry. Otto. I’ll move it in a day or so, once I get my bearings.” He gave Selma a sharp squeeze and pushed her ahead of him toward the dance floor.

“Tony!” Schumacher called after the couple. “Tony, tonight. Please do it tonight!” But nobody heard him. He sat hunched in the booth and followed the couple with his eyes. They did not dance. They skirted the dance floor and went out the front door.

After a while, Schumacher thought of ordering a fresh drink for himself, but decided against it. He hated drinking in public places, and he hated this place in particular. He sat and waited only because he was afraid to go home. He waited, hoping Catell would come back and agree to move that ingot out of the apartment tonight.

When the band packed up, Schumacher got up and left. There was no point in waiting any longer. Catell must have taken Selma to town.

Outside, Schumacher shivered in his overcoat and smoothed a finger over his gray mustache. He felt cold and alone. With an old man’s awkwardness he hunted in his pockets for the car key. When he had found it, he walked into the parking lot.

Before he put his hand on the door, Schumacher felt the car move. In the back seat he saw them. He saw Catell’s back and he saw one of Selma’s legs.

Schumacher left quietly, thinking with dread of the dreary bus ride home, and of the thing that waited for him there.

Chapter Three

Jack Herron didn’t much like to go on a case with his chief. It made him uncomfortable and awkward. Jones never said much and always wore a bland face. Without talking they walked down the main corridor of the Research Center of Kelvin University until they came to a door marked “C. A. Tiffin, Director.” At the Research Center, Tiffin was top dog. He was bald, thin, and ugly, but he was top dog and he always let you know it.

“Well, gentlemen, what have you done about this outrage besides handicapping our work at the Center? I suppose you have come back for another one of your double checks?”

“Outrage, Dr. Tiffin?”

“The theft, Mr. Jones. The almost unbelievable—”

“We’re handling that matter. For the moment we are concerned with another aspect of the—uh—outrage; the aspect that was your responsibility.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The drained shielding wall around your atomic pile. The radiation leak that made the stored gold radioactive in the first place. Have you determined just how radioactive the ingot may have been at the time of the theft?”

Tiffin shuffled his papers around. He pushed his chair back abruptly and stood.

“The difficulties are such—” he started.

“Have you figured it out?”

“My assistants are still working on it, Mr. Jones.”

Jones shrugged. “Before we leave, please show us the scene of the theft once again, Dr. Tiffin.” He held the door open.

They walked through the central hall of the building and turned into a corridor. It was long and bare.

“There is not much to see,” said Tiffin. “Our atomic pile is small, extending from about here to here.” He paced off close to forty feet in the corridor and pointed to one blank wall. “The room housing the device is completely shielded. Follow me, please.”

They turned the corner of the corridor and Tiffin opened a door. A wooden sign stood next to it, face to the wall. Herron turned it around and read, “Danger. Radioactivity.”

“It’s quite safe now. The sign was only put there after the leak was discovered. Ordinarily this room is not exposed. Follow me, please.”

The small room held racks and a trapdoor in one wall. There was moisture on the floor.

“This wall,” Tiffin said, “shields the business end of the pile from the storage room in which we stand. The wall is actually a series of large canisters filled with water. Sometime during the day previous to the theft, this drainpipe—you can see it near the floor—seems to have leaked water out of the lower series of tanks.”

“And there was nothing in this room except the gold ingot?”

“Nothing else. That’s why we cannot say for how much time, if any, the gold was subject to bombardment.”

“So it may not be radioactive at all.”

“Possibly. Or it may be only partially radioactive.”

“How do you mean, partially?” Herron wanted to know.

“Only a part of