Goodbye California - Alistair [57]
‘How did they get into the act?’
‘I’ll come to that in a moment. We’re going on a short trip by helicopter soon. Pasadena. Nine a.m. the boss says, and we meet him exactly at that time.’
Ryder was mild. ‘The FBI has no jurisdiction over a retired cop.’
‘I wouldn’t even bother saying “please”. Wild horses wouldn’t stop you.’ Dunne shuffled some papers into a neat pile. ‘While you and Jeff have been resting lightly we, as usual, have been toiling all through the night. Want to make some notes?’
‘No need. Jeff’s my memory bank. He can identify over a thousand licence plates within thirty miles of here.’
‘I wish it were only licence plates we were dealing with. Well, now, our friend Carlton, the security deputy taken along with the nuclear fuel. A dossier of sorts. Captain, Army Intelligence, Nato, Germany. Nothing fancy. No cloak-and-dagger espionage or counter-espionage stuff. Seems he infiltrated a Communist cell among Germans working in the base camp. Unsubstantiated suspicion of having become too intimate with them. Offered transfer to regular tank battalion and refused. Resigned. He wasn’t cashiered, he wasn’t pressured to resign; let’s say the Army didn’t stand in his way. At least that’s what they say. Probably correct. No matter how unjustified the suspicions that hang over a man the Army understandably doesn’t take chances. End of that line. When the Pentagon decides to clam up, that’s it.’
‘Just a hint of a Communist tie-up?’
‘That would be enough for the CIA. You can’t move around the Pentagon without treading one of their agents underfoot. A whiff of a Red under the bed and they’re reaching for their cyanide guns or whatever before you know it.
‘His security references. Worked for an AEC plant in Illinois. Good record. Security chief checking on contacts. Then a reference from TVA’s twin Brown’s Ferry nuclear plants in Decator, Alabama. Man’s never been there. Certainly not under that name, certainly not in security. Some other capacity, some other name, but unlikely. Disastrous fire when he was there, incidentally, but not caused by him. Technician looking for an air leak with a lighted candle: he found it.’
‘How come the reference?’
‘Forged.’
Jeff said: ‘Wouldn’t Ferguson, the security chief, have checked out the reference?’
Briefly, Dunne sounded weary. ‘He admits he didn’t. Ferguson himself had been there and said that Carlton knew so many details about the place, including the details of the fire, that he thought a check-out pointless.’
‘How would he have known about the fire?’
‘Unclassified. It’s in the public domain.’
Ryder said: ‘How long was he supposed to have been there?’
‘Fifteen months.’
‘So he may just have dropped out of the scene for that time?’
‘Sergeant Ryder, a man with the know-how can go underground for fifteen years in this nation and never surface once.’
‘He may not have been in the country. He could have a passport at home.’
Dunne looked at him, nodded and made a note. ‘Washington checked out with the AEC at seventeen-seventeen H Street. They keep records there of those seeking information, those consulting card indices and dockets on nuclear facilities. No one had ever checked information on San Ruffino – there was none to check. I got Jablonsky out of bed over this one. He was reluctant to talk. Usual threatening noises from the FBI. Then he admitted they have advanced plans for building a fast breeder reactor there. This comes under AEC control. Top secret. No records.’
‘So Carlton’s our man?’
‘Yes. Not that that’s going to help much now that he’s holed up with Morro.’ Dunne consulted another paper. ‘You wanted a list of all the