10
The doorbell rang. Rhoda Kane sprang up from the sofa and almost spilledher drink. She was halfway across the room before she realized she wasalmost running. She stopped. The hand that held the cocktail glassshook.
Resolutely, she steadied, crossed to the liquor cabinet, put down theglass, and went calmly to the door.
He stood there looking at her through those oddly empty eyes which,through some contradiction of all probability, warmed her.
He came in and closed the door, saying nothing. A touch of panic rippledthrough her. He was so silent, so unbending, so impersonal. Was this areflection of her inability to communicate with him? Could theirrelationship fail because of this shortcoming on her part? What good waslove if you couldn't communicate it to the loved one?
She moved into his arms and raised her lips. His arms went around her,but there was no pressure or affection in them. Their lips were an inchapart. Her urge was to give full rein to the heady happiness andexcitement within her--to show her love in a kiss.
But she held off and, after a few moments, he drew, back, raised onehand and passed it through her hair. Not with affection, she thought,but rather with curiosity; almost as though he were preoccupied with itscomposition. He rolled a strand of hair between thumb and finger,testing it.
"It needs cutting," Rhoda said.
"Do you cut it?"
She laughed nervously. "You don't know much about women, do you."
"I know nothing about woman."
Trying to inject a gay note into her voice, she said, "We eat, we sleep,we--we're very functional, really."
He rubbed a finger down her cheek. He pressed the flesh on her neck andwatched the muscle spring back as he withdrew his finger.
"Do that to me," he said.
Mystified, Rhoda pressed her finger against his neck until she couldfeel a pulse in his throat. She withdrew the finger. "Like that?"
"Did it leave a mark?"
"No. Is there something wrong? Do you have a sore throat?"
"My throat is not sore."
Rhoda's frustration was a pitiful thing. How could she get to him? Howcould she break through his shyness?
"I think you're afraid of me," she said lightly.
He did not answer. He took a backward step and regarded her for a momentwith a frown. Then he began to unbutton her blouse.
Rhoda wanted to object. An instinctive protest caused her to draw back.His only reaction to this was to step forward and continue to unbuttonher blouse. She wanted to resist but the fear of driving him away heldher mute; that and something in his eyes that told of excitement, anunformed phantom of delight that had never materialized but still heldsway over her through promise.
He stripped the blouse off. She wore no brassiere underneath, and heregarded her breasts somberly. He pressed a nipple with the tip of onefinger and watched it spring back into place.
"Please. I--"
He ignored her. He pressed the nipple again and then found the zipper onthe side of her slacks. He pulled it down and pushed the slacks downover her hips. She lifted each foot obediently.
He was on his knees now, running his fingers gently down her thighs.Rhoda trembled at the touch. Then she realized it was not love-making onhis part--not in any sense. He was preoccupied with the fine hair on herskin. He studied it closely.
"I should have shaved my legs," Rhoda said uncertainly. He raised hishead, the cold eyes trained into hers. "This hair grows, too?"
Rhoda caught her lower lip between her teeth. Tears were close to thesurface.
_This is crazy. This is utterly insane. I'm mad or he's mad. I don'tknow. I just don't know ..._
The last garment was removed and she was naked there in the middle ofthe living room. He studied her body again, that passionless,preoccupied frown on his face. He drew her down onto the floor and, fora moment, the room spun around Rhoda, her emotional entrapment now thefocal point, the eye of the storm that raged in her being. He went onwith his minute inspection of her person.
_No--no. Please don't. Please don't treat me like this. I'm a woman.Don't be contemptuous of me. Oh, no--please. Don't degrade and humiliateme like this._
There was sudden pain. Rhoda's body wrenched and heaved upward. With asob, she sank back to the floor.
_I must fight. I must not allow this. I must not let him do these cruel,degrading things to me. I must fight but I am afraid to. I am afraidhe'll go away and never come back--and if he did that, there would benothing left for me._
John Dennis seemed to become aware for the first time that certainmanipulations caused reaction--the jerking of Rhoda's body and herinvoluntary cry of pain. He repeated the manipulation with his eyes onher face.
_I cannot allow this. I must fight. I must resist. Oh, Rhoda Kane, whathas happened to you? Frank, please help, help me. Frank--_
But something seemed to flow out of John Dennis and into her mind andsoul and spirit; something that made the flesh and what was done to theflesh unimportant.
The touch of John Dennis' hand brought fright as it foretold furtherpain and degradation. Rhoda sobbed inwardly and braced herself towithstand whatever was to come.
_Mad!--mad!--mad!_
But it meant nothing.
* * * * *
The building was not for tourists. It wasn't like the Pentagon or theWhite House or any of the other historical or glamour symbols inWashington, D.C. It was on a side street, and while no one associated itwith governmental activity, it was of a size and importance thatjustified a uniformed attendant in the lobby.
He was a hard-bitten old Irishman named Callahan, and nobody got pasthim without justification. Also, he was a man of robust hates and greatloyalties; a man whom Brent Taber was honored to call friend.
He was also a man Brent Taber was waiting to hear from.
The call came late in the afternoon of the day following CharlesBlackwell's search for his would-be brother. Taber picked up the phone.
"It's me--Callahan. He's here, Mr. Taber."
"Thanks. I'll be right over."
"And be hurrying right along if you want to get here in time. He's notone to be restrained indefinitely."
"Tell him the elevator's busted."
Brent Taber slammed the phone down and left. He used an elevator thistime and went across town in a cab. Even then, he was almost too late.As he arrived at his destination, Senator Crane was protesting loudly.
"It's just plain stupidity. Elevators don't quit running for no reason.Find a burnt-out fuse. Do something! And do it quick or I'll phonesomebody who will!"
"Well, I'll be blessed," Callahan said, completely crest-fallen. "Itwas the switch, Senator. The blessed switch was off."
"Well, turn it on and get me up to ten."
"Good afternoon, Senator."
Crane whirled. "Brent Taber!" He threw a quick scowl at Callahan and wason the verge of accusing the Irishman of high treason, but he said, "Allright. I'm glad you're here, Taber. We might as well get this thinginto the open. Are you going to take me to room ten twenty-six or do Ihave to take steps to force your co-operation?"
Taber stared morosely at Crane's nose. "Why, Senator, where did you getthe idea my department wouldn't help a member of Congress to theutmost?"
"None of your sarcasm. Let's go upstairs."
"All right, Callahan. Let's go upstairs."
They got off on ten and walked down the corridor. "Ten twenty-eight, yousaid?"
"You know damned well what I said."
Taber opened the door. He stood aside. Crane walked in and stopped dead.He again whirled on Crane.
"It's empty."
"That's right. I could have told you downstairs but you wouldn't havebelieved me. What were you looking for? New quarters?"
"Taber, I'll break you for this! If you think you can thwart the will ofthe United States Senate--"
"You've been doing a pretty good job of breaking already."
"I haven't even begun!"
r /> "That still doesn't tell me what you thought you'd find."
"Quit being cute. This time yesterday there were cadavers in here. Thiswas a laboratory!"
Brent looked wearily at his watch. "You're wrong, Senator. This placewas vacated exactly an hour and fifteen minutes after your stooge usedhis court order to locate the cadavers."
"Then you admit you defied a court order--"
"Oh, come off of it. The court order said nothing about leaving thingsas they were. But that's not important. The important thing is that yougive me some understanding and sympathy."
This obviously astounded Crane. "From you? That from the cocky,self-sufficient Brent Taber? That's a little different tune from the oneyou sang in your office, not too long ago."
"All right. I'll concede that. Let's say you've got me licked. I'lladmit I should have reacted a little less arrogantly. My nerves wereshot. I'd been up late too often. Now I'm ready to be reasonable."
Crane was scowling. "This isn't like you, Taber--not like you at all.I'm suspicious. Why are you suddenly so agreeable?"
"Because I believe the nation--the world--is in great danger. I think weshould all realize that danger and work together."
"Then why have you been fighting me?"
"Because I honestly felt it was the best thing to do. I've changed mymind. I'm willing to tell you the whole story."
"I've heard the whole story. I--"
"Then it was you who had my office taped."
"Exactly. I'm not ashamed of it. When I'm fighting for my constituents Iuse every weapon at my command."
Brent Taber regarded Crane narrowly. "I underestimated your abilities,Senator. That was fast work. Twenty minutes after I refused youpermission to attend that meeting, you had your man briefed and inaction. It was the waiter who brought in the coffee, wasn't it?"
Before Crane could answer, Taber gestured and said, "Never mind. That'snot important. You've heard the tape, so tell me--what do you want fromme? How can I earn your co-operation?"
"Quite simply, Taber. By recognizing my authority as a United StatesSenator. By keeping me briefed on your progress against this terriblething that menaces our people. By accepting my active co-operation indestroying it."
"What exactly do you mean by _active_?"
"Just what the word implies. Have the men on the senatorial committeeyou briefed been at all active in helping you?"
"Frankly, no."
"Then what right have they to expect any rewards--shall we say?--fortheir efforts?"
"You may have a point."
"I believe in rewards where rewards are due."
"And you want--?"
"In plain terms, the right to association in the public mind with theeffort to protect the nation."
"You want favorable publicity if and when this matter makes headlines?"
"Is that too much to ask?"
Brent Taber suddenly seemed lost and, in truth, he was wondering why inhell he'd approached Crane in this way. He felt ashamed for evenconsidering the possibility of bending to the will of a windbag likeCrane. _Good Lord_, he thought, _I must be tired. I was on the point ofplaying the jellyfish._
Abruptly his voice sharpened. "I'm sorry, I can't promise you that."
"Taber, you're a fool! I'll get it anyhow. I told you I'd break you ifyou got in my way, and you've been almost discredited already. Don't youknow when to quit?"
"Maybe that's my trouble, Senator. Maybe I'm bull-headed. Anyhow, rightor wrong, I'll play out this string to the end. Good day--and I hope youenjoy your new offices."
* * * * *
An hour later, back at his own phone, Taber got a second call fromCallahan. "There's another one."
"Another one? I don't follow you."
"A photographer from New York City. He's being real cagey, this one, butI know the breed. The kind that's so stupid-clever he outsmartshimself."
"What's he after?"
"Sounds to me like he wants the same thing as the Senator."
"Hmmm," Taber mused. "Those are mighty popular cadavers, aren't they,Callahan?"
"I'm blessed if they aren't."
"All right. You tell Mr. King--that is his name, isn't it?"
"You've got good eyesight--reading a blasted press card from clearacross town."
"I'm clairvoyant, Callahan. Tell you what you do--give me fifteenminutes to make a phone call and then send him after the bodies."
"To the right place?"
"To the right place. And hold out for a good price. Get what the trafficwill bear. I'd say maybe fifty dollars. Allow yourself to be bribed realgood."
"I'll do that."