cracked.Ben Ruthenberg of the F.B.I. found he had a morals rap against him someyears ago and scared him into talking by threats of exposure. At any rate,you're right. They had established themselves in some government buildingsgoing back to Spanish-American War days. We've arrested eight or tenofficials that were involved."
"But the money?"
"The money was gone," Steve said bitterly. "But Susan was right. There hadevidently been room after room of it, stacked to the ceiling. Literallybillions of dollars. They'd moved out hurriedly, but they left kickingaround enough loose hundreds, fifties, twenties, tens and fives to give usan idea. Look, Woolford, I thought you'd been pulled off this case andthat Walt Foster was handling it."
Larry said sourly, "I'm beginning to think so, too. They're evidently noteven bothering to let me know about developments like this. See you later,Steve."
The other's face faded off.
Larry Woolford looked across the double desk at Irene Day. "Look," hesaid, "when you're offered a promotion, take it. If you don't, someoneelse will and you'll be out in the cold."
Irene Day said brightly, "I've always know that, sir."
He looked at her. The typical eager beaver. Sharp as a whip. Bright as abutton. "I'll bet you have," he muttered.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Woolford?"
The phone lit as LaVerne said, "The Boss wants to talk to you, Larry." Herface faded and Larry's superior was scowling at him.
He snapped, "Did you get anything on this medical records thing,Woolford?"
"Medical records?" Larry said blankly.
The Boss grunted in deprecation. "No, I suppose you haven't. I wish youwould snap into it, Woolford. I don't know what has happened to you oflate. I used to think that you were a good field man." He flicked offabruptly.
Larry dialed LaVerne Polk. "What in the world was the Boss just talkingabout, LaVerne? About medical records?"
LaVerne said, frowning, "Didn't you know? The Movement's been at it again.They've fouled up the records of the State Medical Licensing bureaus, atthe same time sabotaging the remaining records of most, if not all, of thecountry's medical schools. They struck simultaneously, throughout thecountry."
He looked at her, expressionlessly.
LaVerne said, "We've caught several hundred of those responsible. It's thesame thing. Attack of the social-label. From now on, if a man tells youhe's an Ear, Eye and Throat specialist, you'd better do some investigationbefore letting him amputate your tongue. You'd better use your judgmentbefore letting _any_ doctor you don't really know about, work on you. It'sa madhouse, Larry."
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Larry Woolford, for long moments after LaVerne had broken the connection,stared unseeingly at his secretary across from him until she stirred.
He brought his eyes back to the present. "Another preliminary move, notthe important thing, yet. Not the big explosion they're figuring on. Wherehave they taken that money, and why?"
Irene Day blinked at him. "I don't know, I'm sure, sir."
Larry said, "Get me Mr. Foster on the phone, Irene."
When Walt Foster's unhappy face faded in, Larry said, "Walt did you getFrol Eivazov?"
"Eivazov?" the other said impatiently. "No. We haven't spent much efforton it. I think this hunch of yours is like the other ones you've beenhaving lately, Woolford. Frol Eivazov was last reported by our operativesas being in North Korea."
"It wasn't a hunch," Larry said tightly. "He's in this country on anassignment dealing with the Movement."
"Well, that's your opinion," Foster said snappishly. "I'm busy, Woolford.See here, at present you're under my orders on this job. In the way ofsomething to do, instead of sitting around in that office, why don't youfollow up this Eivazov thing yourself?" He considered it a moment. "That'san order, Woolford. Even if you don't locate him, it'll keep you out ofour hair."
After the other was gone, Larry Woolford leaned back in his chair, hisface flushed as though the other had slapped it. In a way, he had.
Larry said slowly, "Miss Day, dial me Hans Distelmayer. His offices areover in the Belmont Building."
As always, the screen remained blank as the German spy master spoke.
Larry said, "Hans, I want to talk to Frol Eivazov."
"Ah?"
"I want to know where I can find him."
The German's voice was humorously gruff. "My friend, my friend."
Larry said impatiently, "I'm not interested in arresting him at this time.I want to talk to him."
The other said heavily. "This goes beyond favors, my friend. On the faceof it, I am not in business for my health. And what you ask is dangerousfrom my viewpoint. You realize that upon occasion my organization doessmall tasks for the Soviets...."
"Ha!" Larry said bitterly.
"... And," the German continued, unruffled, "it is hardly to my interestto gain the reputation of betraying my sometimes employers. Were you on anassignment in, say, Bulgaria or Hungary, would you expect me to betray youto the _Chrezvychainaya Komissiya_?"
"Not unless somebody paid you enough to make it worth while," Larry saiddryly.
"Exactly," the espionage chief said.
"Look," Larry said. "Send your bill to this department, Hans. I've beengiven carte blanche on this matter and I want to talk to Frol. Now, whereis he?"
The German chuckled heavily. "At the Soviet Embassy."
"What! You mean they've got the gall to house their top spy right in--"
Distelmayer interrupted him. "Friend Eivazov is currently accredited as amilitary attache and quite correctly. He holds the rank of colonel, youknow. He entered this country quite legally, the only precaution taken wasto use his second name, Kliment, instead of Frol, on his papers.Evidently, your people passed him by without a second look. Ah, Iunderstand he went to the trouble of making some minor changes in hisfacial appearance."
"We'll expect your bill, Distelmayer," Larry said. "Good-by."
He got up and reached for his hat, saying to Irene Day, "I don't know howlong I'll be gone." He added, wryly, "If either Foster or the Boss try toget in touch with me, tell them I'm carrying out orders."
He drove over to the Soviet Embassy, parked his car directly before thebuilding.
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The American plainclothesmen stationed near the entrance, gave him only aquick onceover as he passed. Inside the gates, the impassive Russianguards didn't bother to flicker an eyelid.
At the reception desk in the immense entrada, he identified himself. "I'dlike to see Colonel Frol Eivazov."
"I am afraid--" the clerk began stiffly.
"I suppose you have him on the records as Kliment Eivazov."
The clerk had evidently touched a concealed button. A door opened and ajunior embassy official approached them.
Larry restated his desire. The other began to open his mouth in denial,then shrugged. "Just a moment," he said.
He was gone a full twenty minutes. When he returned, he said briefly,"This way, please."
Frol Eivazov was in an inner office, in full uniform. He came to his feetwhen Larry Woolford entered and said to the clerk, "That will be all,Vova." He was a tall man, as Slavs go, but heavy of build and heavy offace.
He shook hands with Larry. "It's been a long time," he said in perfectEnglish. "That conference in Warsaw, wasn't it? Have a chair, Mr.Woolford."
Larry took the offered chair and said, "How in the world did you expect toget by with this nonsense? We'll have you declared _persona non grata_ ina matter of hours."
"It's not important," Eivazov shrugged. "I have found what I came to find.I was about to return to report any way."
"We won't do anything to hinder you, colonel," Larry said dryly.
Eivazov snapped his fingers. "It's all amusing," he said. "In our countrywe would quickly deal with this Movement nonsense. You Americans with yourpseudo-democracy, your labels without reality, your--"
Larry said weari
ly, "Please, Frol, I promise not to convert you if youpromise not to convert me. Needless to say, my department isn't happyabout your presence in this country. You'll be watched from now on. We'vebeen busy with other matters...."
Here the Russian laughed.
"... Or we'd already have flushed you." He allowed his voice to gocurious. "We've wondered about your interest in this