The film and the paper passed from hand to hand. The other members of
the Team sat down; there was a tendency to move away from the chair
occupied by Adam Lowiewski. He noticed this and sneered.
"Afraid of contamination from the moral leper?" he asked. "You were glad
enough to have me correct your stupid mathematical errors."
Kato Sugihara picked up the capsule, took a final glance at the
cigarette pack, and said to MacLeod: "I'll be back as soon as this is
done." With that, he left the room, followed by Bertie Wooster and the
Greek.
* * * * *
Heym ben-Hillel turned to the others: his eyes had the hurt and puzzled
look of a dog that has been kicked for no reason. "But why did he do
this?" he asked.
"He just told you," MacLeod replied. "He's the great Adam Lowiewski.
Checking math for a physics-research team is beneath his dignity. I
suppose the Komintern offered him a professorship at Stalin University."
He was watching Lowiewski's face keenly. "No," he continued. "It was
probably the mathematics chair of the Soviet Academy of Sciences."
"But who was this person who could smuggle microfilm out of the
reservation?" Suzanne Maillard wanted to know. "Somebody has invented
teleportation, then?"
MacLeod shook his head. "It was General Nayland's chauffeur. It had to
be. General Nayland's car is the only thing that gets out of here
without being searched. The car itself is serviced at Army vehicles
pool; nobody could hide anything in it for a confederate to pick up
outside. Nayland is a stuffed shirt of the first stuffing, and a tinpot
Hitler to boot, but he is fanatically and incorruptibly patriotic. That
leaves the chauffeur. When Nayland's in the car, nobody even sees him;
he might as well be a robot steering-device. Old case of Father Brown's
Invisible Man. So, since he had to be the courier, all I did was have
Ahmed Abd-el-Rahman shadow him, and at the same time tap our phones.
When he contacted Lowiewski, I knew Lowiewski was our traitor."
Sir Neville Lawton gave a strangling laugh. "Oh, my dear Aunt Fanny! And
Nayland goes positively crackers on security. He gets goose pimples
every time he hears somebody saying 'E = mc^{2}', for fear a Komintern
spy might hear him. It's a wonder he hasn't put the value of Planck's
Constant on the classified list. He sets up all these fantastic search
rooms and barriers, and then he drives through the gate, honking his
bloody horn, with
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