The Mind-­Twisters Affair - Stratton Thomas - Страница 16

Curtis sat on the edge of his desk, lost in thought for a full minute. Optimism gradually returned, and he looked up. "The thing to do is work out a new questionnaire. If the drug is being used on everyone in town we should be able to discover how it's administered. There should be some noticeable side effects."

Napoleon laughed. "You have a way of getting to the heart of the matter," he said. "Mr. Waverly didn't mention side effects that would enable anyone to detect a drug-taker immediately. Once they've voiced anti-U.N.C.L.E. sentiments they're fairly easy. The administration of the drug bothers me; I haven't noticed anyone rushing about madly stabbing people with a hypodermic, or even sprinkling a mysterious powder in everyone's food."

"Maybe the anti-U.N.C.L.E. feeling is the side effect," Rita suggested. "Maybe the purpose of the drug is some thing else altogether."

"It would be a pretty weird side effect," Napoleon answered. "It's hard enough trying to figure out things on the assumption that this is the desired result, with out you trying to confuse matters."

"She isn't trying to confuse matters," Curtis said. "She does quite well in that line without trying. According to your story, however, Dr. Armden and your friend Illya acted like zombies after being given the drug yesterday. But Armden and Bennett and the others weren't reacting in that manner when the anti-U.N.C.L.E. feelings were being voiced."

"That's one of the problems," Napoleon admitted, "If it's the same drug, the zombie-state doesn't last."

"Maybe they're conditioned while under the influence of the drug and the conditioning sticks after the drug wears off," Rita offered.

"Doubtful," Napoleon said. "Once the effects of the drug wore off, Armden was perfectly rational on the trip. Besides, the zombie-state lasts at least twenty- four hours. Have you noticed large numbers of glassy-eyed citizenry during the past few months?"

"Maybe they were taken away while the drug was administered," Rita said, unwilling to abandon her best idea.

"You might add a question about trips to our next survey," Napoleon said, "but I doubt if it will prove anything. Another problem is the non-scientists on the list. I can see Thrush trying to brainwash the Falco staff or the instructors here at the university. But janitors and gas station attendants? No."

"To divert suspicion!" Rita exclaimed.

"You don't give up easily, do you?" Napoleon asked. "Well, it's worth looking into; at this point almost any thing is worth looking into. Assuming that it really is a drug, the major problem is to find out how it's administered."

"How did Illya get his?" Rita asked.

"Probably in his coffee."

"There you are! Easiest thing in the world to drop a pill in someone's coffee, then say 'Come with me' an that's it." She leaned back triumphantly.

"Except that this sort of thing would be noticed, eventually," Napoleon pointed out. "Remember, this is being used on an entire community."

"The water supply," Curtis suggested. "No, Eleazar got it, and he never touches drinking water - or any other kind, if he can help it."

"How about restaurants?" Rita asked. "There aren't many eating places in town; find out which one is patronized by the victims."

Napoleon frowned thoughtfully. "That gives me an idea. Could you drop the survey for a day and put your students on another job?"

"Easiest thing in the world; as long as it gets them out of class, they won't care. What do you have in mind?"

"Have your students collect samples of water, food, drinks, everything they can lay their hands on. I'll need samples, carefully labeled, from all over town. Label should include nature of sample, place collected, and if possible the name of the distributor, trucking company or whatever. I'll send them to New York and have them analyzed."

"I see," Curtis said. "Very well, I'll put them on the job tomorrow. Rita, could you get instruction sheets mimeographed?"

The girl nodded. "And what will you be doing while everyone else is doing your work?" she asked Napoleon.

"Studying effective leadership," he replied. "In addition, I'll do some work on Professor Curtis' survey and see if I can work out a pattern. Then I'd like a file of back issues of the local newspaper, and if possible a history of Midford. Would the university library have those?"

"Certainly," Curtis said. "Rita, show him the library. You can do your research right there; I'll be along after my next class. I'll bring a bottle of my new rose hip extract; I just made the first batch of the season."

A few students gave Napoleon and Rita curious stares as they walked across the campus, and Rita laughed delightedly. "I'll have something to crow over, now," she explained. "Being escorted by a real live spy, no less. Wait until I get a chance to tell this to Flavia!"

Napoleon looked at her inquiringly, and she explained. "My best friend, locally: Flavia Whateley. She lives in this moldering mansion on the other side of town, and she has all these stories about the odd sort of people her father associates with. But I'll bet she's never seen a real secret agent!"

Napoleon smiled, then stiffened slightly. "Don't make your interest obvious, but take a look at the man in the gray suit walking on the opposite side of the street and see if you know him."

Rita looked. "Yes, I know him. He's Jules Adams, president of one of the local finance companies. Why?"

"Because the last time I saw him, he was whipping up the mob at the Fort Wayne airport. In a way, it's a relief; if the anti-U.N.C.L.E. feeling is restricted to Midford it will be easier to combat than if it is more widespread. Of course, his being in the mob could be coincidence, but I doubt it. I thought it formed and broke up much too rapidly for it to be genuine. Thrush harassment is something we're used to."

"It also means," Rita commented, "that Thrush is attempting to divert suspicion from Midford - and probably from other things as well," she added, smugly.

Chapter 8

"A Powerful Figure Of Evil Indeed"

NAPOLEON FOUND HIMSELF becoming fascinated with some of the folklore of Midford. Unfortunately, the history had been written on the occasion of the town's centennial in 1937, and had never been updated.

Some of the more interesting historical characters seemed to belong to the Whateley family. Napoleon wondered if Rita's friend was a relative. According to the history, one Jabez Whateley, together with his wife and son, had migrated to Midford from Salem, Massachusetts just after the turn of the century. He had built a duplicate of the original Whateley mansion; a somewhat bizarre structure, according to the description given. Apparently the elder Whateley's refusal to become neighborly had roused the resentment of local citizens; before long there were rumors, faithfully set down in the history, that the Whateleys were devil-worshippers and worse. Midford residents hurrying past the Whateley house after dark had reported strange sights and sounds. The death or disappearance of any farm animal for miles around was instantly attributed to Jabez Whateley's evil influence.

Neighborhood fear had culminated one night when the daughter of Whateley's nearest neighbor failed to show up for supper. A mob had formed, ready to storm the Whateley mansion, but it had been broken up by the prompt and firm action of the sheriff and a hastily assembled lot of deputies. The next day the distraught parents had received a telephone call from the missing girl, announcing that she had eloped with the minister's son. Predictably, the reaction of the local populace was a baffled rage at being balked. Whateley's reputation remained sinister until he died, whereupon his son, Jabez Junior, had inherited the hostility along with the mansion.