center in the United States. Someone doesn’t just happen to sneak into a research compound in the middle of the Amazon jungle. Obviously, one of the workers was a Nazi spy, and we believe he killed those two men. Later, in the American center, another worker, an anti-Nazi German, was also killed by the eels. It was probably another murder.”
“I always thought it was a myth about electric eels having enough of a charge to kill someone.”
“It’s no myth. I’ve studied up on it for this assignment. The electrophorus electricus grows to a length of eight or ten feet, and weighs perhaps as much as ninety pounds. It can discharge anywhere from 400 to 650 volts at one ampere—enough to kill a man instantly on contact.”
“A tidy murder weapon, if that’s what it was in those three cases. What about the spy? What happened to him?”
“His name at the time was Schultz. He was posing as a German Jew who’d fled Hitler and been living with the Jewish community in the Dominican Republic. He claimed some knowledge of fish in general and eels in particular, which was why he was hired as an assistant on the project.”
“No security clearance?”
“The Nazi government would not have been too cooperative regarding his background. In those days a good many men had to be employed pretty much on faith. In any event, he was at the Amazon camp at the time of the first two killings, and later in Maryland when the third man was killed. It’s possible the third man was someone he’d known in Germany—someone who recognized him.”
“I gather this Schultz has dropped from sight.”
“He left the American project some ten or twelve years ago, and hasn’t been seen or heard of since. I gather the Americans had finally gotten some evidence on him and were about to close the trap. Anyway, the whole eel business was eventually abandoned until just recently when the British government opened a research station in the Scottish highlands, with American cooperation. Apparently there’s evidence that the Russians are active with nerve gas research again.”
“Where does Schultz come in now?”
“We hope he doesn’t. He’d be about 60 years old today, and after fifteen years with those eels, pretty much of an expert on the subject. But he might be working for the Russians now.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Simply because he stayed on with the American project for so many years after the war ended. Either somebody new had started paying him, or he just decided he liked eels. We have to assume the Russians might have acquired his dossier along with that nerve gas factory and taken over control of him.”
“You still haven’t told me why this is an assignment for Double-C.” Rand was growing more restless, anxious to be back in the far simpler world of codes and blackboards and frequency tables that was the Department of Concealed Communications.
“I’ll get to the point,” Colonel Nelson said with a smile. “They’ve just taken on a man who might be Schultz. He’s German, gives his age as 62, looks a little like Schultz’s old photographs. Most important, he seems to know everything there is to know about electric eels.”
“Can’t they check his fingerprints?”
“Oddly enough, no. You see, Schultz was clever. When he was helping on the Amazon project, he somehow managed to get someone else’s prints on his record card. When the F.B.I. became suspicious and wanted to check further on the project workers some ten years back, they discovered they had two sets of prints belonging to a Columbia professor and no set belonging to Schultz. That’s when he vanished.”
“So this new employee might be Schultz. Am I supposed to find out if he is?”
Colonel Nelson nodded, brushing a hand through his thinning hat “Exactly.”
“I don’t think I’m really qualified for this assignment, Colonel.”
“Oh, but you are! You see, this man gives his name as Hans Suffern. He claims he served during World War
“I always thought it was a myth about electric eels having enough of a charge to kill someone.”
“It’s no myth. I’ve studied up on it for this assignment. The electrophorus electricus grows to a length of eight or ten feet, and weighs perhaps as much as ninety pounds. It can discharge anywhere from 400 to 650 volts at one ampere—enough to kill a man instantly on contact.”
“A tidy murder weapon, if that’s what it was in those three cases. What about the spy? What happened to him?”
“His name at the time was Schultz. He was posing as a German Jew who’d fled Hitler and been living with the Jewish community in the Dominican Republic. He claimed some knowledge of fish in general and eels in particular, which was why he was hired as an assistant on the project.”
“No security clearance?”
“The Nazi government would not have been too cooperative regarding his background. In those days a good many men had to be employed pretty much on faith. In any event, he was at the Amazon camp at the time of the first two killings, and later in Maryland when the third man was killed. It’s possible the third man was someone he’d known in Germany—someone who recognized him.”
“I gather this Schultz has dropped from sight.”
“He left the American project some ten or twelve years ago, and hasn’t been seen or heard of since. I gather the Americans had finally gotten some evidence on him and were about to close the trap. Anyway, the whole eel business was eventually abandoned until just recently when the British government opened a research station in the Scottish highlands, with American cooperation. Apparently there’s evidence that the Russians are active with nerve gas research again.”
“Where does Schultz come in now?”
“We hope he doesn’t. He’d be about 60 years old today, and after fifteen years with those eels, pretty much of an expert on the subject. But he might be working for the Russians now.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Simply because he stayed on with the American project for so many years after the war ended. Either somebody new had started paying him, or he just decided he liked eels. We have to assume the Russians might have acquired his dossier along with that nerve gas factory and taken over control of him.”
“You still haven’t told me why this is an assignment for Double-C.” Rand was growing more restless, anxious to be back in the far simpler world of codes and blackboards and frequency tables that was the Department of Concealed Communications.
“I’ll get to the point,” Colonel Nelson said with a smile. “They’ve just taken on a man who might be Schultz. He’s German, gives his age as 62, looks a little like Schultz’s old photographs. Most important, he seems to know everything there is to know about electric eels.”
“Can’t they check his fingerprints?”
“Oddly enough, no. You see, Schultz was clever. When he was helping on the Amazon project, he somehow managed to get someone else’s prints on his record card. When the F.B.I. became suspicious and wanted to check further on the project workers some ten years back, they discovered they had two sets of prints belonging to a Columbia professor and no set belonging to Schultz. That’s when he vanished.”
“So this new employee might be Schultz. Am I supposed to find out if he is?”
Colonel Nelson nodded, brushing a hand through his thinning hat “Exactly.”
“I don’t think I’m really qualified for this assignment, Colonel.”
“Oh, but you are! You see, this man gives his name as Hans Suffern. He claims he served during World War
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