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appear to be. I told the investigators-I had to tell them-that those
six are the only ones who could possibly have done it, and if none of
them did, they must suspect me of making up a story to hide
something worse."
Trumbull said, "Oh, hell, Waldemar. They can't think that.
What would you have to gain by reporting the incident if you were
responsible?"
"That's what they don't know," said Long. "But the
information did leak and if they can't pin it on any of the six, then
they're going to pin it on me. And the more my motives puzzle
them, the more they think those motives must be very disturbing
indeed. So I'm in trouble."
Rubin said, "Are you sure those six are indeed the only
possibilities. Are you sure you really didn't mention it to anyone
else?"
"Quite sure," said Long dryly.
"You might not remember having done so," said Rubin. "It
could have been something very casual. Can you be sure you
didn't?"
"I can be sure I didn't. The radiophone call came not long
before dinner. There just wasn't time to tell anyone before dinner.
And once I got away from the table, I was back in the cabin before
I as much as said anything to anybody. Anything at all."
"Who heard you on the phone? Maybe there were
eavesdroppers."
"There were ship's officers standing around, certainly.
However, my boss expressed himself Aesopically. I knew what he
meant, but no one else would have."
"Did you express yourself Aesopically?" asked Halsted. "I'll
tell you exactly what I said. 'Hello, Dave.' Then I said, 'God damn
it to hell.' Then I hung up. I said those seven words. No more."
Gonzalo brought his hands together in a sudden, enthusiastic
clap. "Listen, I've been thinking. Why does the job have to be so
planned? It could be spontaneous. After all, everybody knows
there's this cruise and people connected with NASA are going to
talk and there might be something interesting on. Someone-it could
have been anyone-kept searching various rooms during the dinner
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hour each day and finally came across your paper-"
"No," said Long sharply. "It passes the bounds of plausibility
to suppose that someone would, just by chance, find my paper just
in the hour or two after I had announced that a classified lecture
was sitting on my desk. Besides, there was nothing in the paper that
would have given any indication of importance to the nonexpert. It
was only my own remark that would have told anyone it was there
and that it was important."
Avalon said thoughtfully, "Suppose one of the people at the
table passed on the information, in perfect innocence. In the
interval they were away from the table, they might have said to
someone, 'Did you hear about poor Dr. Long? His paper was shot
out from under him?' Then that someone, anyone, could have done
the job."
Long shook his head. "I wish that could be so, but it can't. That
would only happen if the particular individual at my table were
innocent. If the Smiths were innocent when they left the table, the
only thing on their minds would be the hot chocolate. They
wouldn't stop to chat. The Doctor would be thinking only of getting
the ointment. By the time Jones left the table, assuming he was
innocent, he would have forgotten about the matter. If anything, he
would talk about the hot chocolate, too."
Rubin said suddenly, voice rising, "All right. What about Miss
Robinson? She left before the hot-chocolate incident. The only
interesting thing in her mind would have been your dilemma. She
might have said something."
"Might she?" said Long. "If she is innocent, then she was really
doing what she said she was doing, going to the bathroom in her
cabin. If she had to desert the dinner table to do so, there would
have had to be urgency; and no one under those conditions stops
for idle gossip."
There was silence all around the table.
Long said, "I'm sure investigation will continue and eventually
the truth will come out and it will be clear that I'm guilty of no
more than an unlucky indiscretion. By then, though, my career will
be down the drain."
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"Dr. Long?" said a soft voice. "May I ask a question?"
Long looked up, surprised. "A question?"
"I'm Henry, sir. The gentlemen of the Black Widowers
organization occasionally allow me to participate-"
"Hell, yes, Henry," said Trumbull. "Do you see something the
rest of us don't?"
"I'm not certain," said Henry. "I see quite plainly that Dr.
Long believes only the six others at the table might possibly be
involved, and those investigating the matter apparently agree with
him-"
"There's no way not to," said Long.
"Well, then," said Henry. "I am wondering if Dr. Long
mentioned his views on curry to the investigators."
Long said, "You mean that I didn't like curry?"
"Yes," said Henry. "Did that come up?"
Long spread his hands and then shook his head. "No, I don't
think it did. Why should it? It's irrelevant. It's just an additional
excuse for my talking like a jackass. I tell it to you here in order to
collect sympathy, I suppose, but it would carry no weight with the
investigators."
Henry remained silent for a moment, and Trumbull said, "Does
the curry have meaning to you, Henry?"
"I think perhaps it does," said Henry. "I think we are in rather
the position Mr. Halsted described earlier in the evening in
connection with limericks. Some Limericks to be effective must be
seen; sound is not enough. And some scenes to be effective must be
seen."
"I don't get that," said Long.
"Well, Dr. Long," said Henry. "You sat there in the ship's
restaurant at a table with six other people and therefore only those
six other people heard you. But if we could see the scene instead of
having you describe it to us, would we see something clearly that
you have omitted?"
"No, you wouldn't," said Long doggedly.
"Are you sure?" asked Henry. "You sit here with six other
people at a table, too, just as you did on the ship. How many people
hear your story?"
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