smiled and said, "Mr. Mackenzie is an industrial sabotage investigator. He has a job to do, and asking questions is part of that job. I know he's just made a statement, not asked a question, but it's one of those statements that expects comment."
She turned back to Mackenzie, with a swing of her long chestnut hair. "I suppose I've been pretty lucky at that."
She spoke with marked coolness, and Mackenzie felt it. "None of my questions are directed against you, Corinne, okay? Now, you must know the executive-level people pretty well?"
"I can hardly help it. They all come through me to get to Mr. Reynolds."
"Including those who have business with that safe there?"
"Of course. I know them all well."
"All good friends, I take it?"
"Well" -- she smiled, but the smile had an edge to it -- "lots of them are much too senior to be my friends."
"But on good terms, shall we say?"
"Oh, yes." She smiled again. "I don't think I've made any enemies."
"Perish the thought!" This came from George Dermott, who took over the questioning on a brisker note. "Any of the people using the safe ever give you trouble? Like trying to take away what they shouldn't?"
"Not often, and then it's only absentminded-ness or because they haven't studied the classified list. And surely, Mr. Dermott, if anyone wanted to get something past me they'd hide it in their clothing."
Dermott nodded. "That's true. Miss Delorme." The girl was inspecting his rough-and-ready good looks with a spark of humor in her eye, as if amused by his blunt approach. He caught the expression and, in his turn, watched her for a reflective moment. "What do you think now?" he asked her. "Do you think anyone might have smuggled something past you out of the safe?"
She looked him in the eye. "They might," she said, "but I doubt it."
"Could I have a list of the people who used the safe in the past four or five days?"
"Certainly." She left and returned with a sheet which Dermott studied briefly.
"Good Lord! The safe appears to be the Mecca for half of Sanmobil. Twenty entries at least in the last four days." He looked up at the girl. "This is a carbon. May I keep it?"
"Of course."
"Thank you."
Corinne Delorme smiled at the room in general, but the blue eyes came back to Dermott before she went out.
"Charming indeed," said Brady.
"Plenty of spunk," Mackenzie said ruefully. "She built a whole generation gap between you and ,me, George." He frowned. "What gave you the idea . her name was Delorme?"
"There was a plaque on her desk. 'Corinne Delorme,' it said." Dermott shook his head. "Hawkeye Mackenzie," he said.
The other men laughed. Some of the tension that had grown in the room during the questioning of the girl fell away again.
"Well. Anything more I can do for you?" Reynolds asked.
Dermott said, "Yes, please. Could we have a list of the names of your security staff?"
Reynolds bent over the intercom and spoke to Corinne. He had just finished when Brinckman arrived accompanied by a tall, red-haired man whom he introduced as Carl Jorgensen.
Dermott said, "You were in charge of the night security shift, I understand. Were you around the sabotaged area at all tonight?"
"Several times."
"So often? I thought you would have been concentrating on what we regarded -- mistakenly -- as the more vulnerable areas."
"I went around them a couple of times, but by jeep only. But I had this funny feeling that we might have been guarding the wrong places. Don't ask me why."
"Your funny feeling didn't turn out to be so funny after all. Anything off-beat? Anything to arouse suspicion?"
"Nothing. I know everybody on the night shift and I know where they work. Nobody there that shouldn't have been there, nobody in any place that he hadn't any right to be."
"You've got a key to the blasting shed. Where do you keep it?"
"Terry Brinckman mentioned this. I have it only during my tour of duty and then I hand it over. I always carry it in the same button-down pocket on my shirt."
"Could
She turned back to Mackenzie, with a swing of her long chestnut hair. "I suppose I've been pretty lucky at that."
She spoke with marked coolness, and Mackenzie felt it. "None of my questions are directed against you, Corinne, okay? Now, you must know the executive-level people pretty well?"
"I can hardly help it. They all come through me to get to Mr. Reynolds."
"Including those who have business with that safe there?"
"Of course. I know them all well."
"All good friends, I take it?"
"Well" -- she smiled, but the smile had an edge to it -- "lots of them are much too senior to be my friends."
"But on good terms, shall we say?"
"Oh, yes." She smiled again. "I don't think I've made any enemies."
"Perish the thought!" This came from George Dermott, who took over the questioning on a brisker note. "Any of the people using the safe ever give you trouble? Like trying to take away what they shouldn't?"
"Not often, and then it's only absentminded-ness or because they haven't studied the classified list. And surely, Mr. Dermott, if anyone wanted to get something past me they'd hide it in their clothing."
Dermott nodded. "That's true. Miss Delorme." The girl was inspecting his rough-and-ready good looks with a spark of humor in her eye, as if amused by his blunt approach. He caught the expression and, in his turn, watched her for a reflective moment. "What do you think now?" he asked her. "Do you think anyone might have smuggled something past you out of the safe?"
She looked him in the eye. "They might," she said, "but I doubt it."
"Could I have a list of the people who used the safe in the past four or five days?"
"Certainly." She left and returned with a sheet which Dermott studied briefly.
"Good Lord! The safe appears to be the Mecca for half of Sanmobil. Twenty entries at least in the last four days." He looked up at the girl. "This is a carbon. May I keep it?"
"Of course."
"Thank you."
Corinne Delorme smiled at the room in general, but the blue eyes came back to Dermott before she went out.
"Charming indeed," said Brady.
"Plenty of spunk," Mackenzie said ruefully. "She built a whole generation gap between you and ,me, George." He frowned. "What gave you the idea . her name was Delorme?"
"There was a plaque on her desk. 'Corinne Delorme,' it said." Dermott shook his head. "Hawkeye Mackenzie," he said.
The other men laughed. Some of the tension that had grown in the room during the questioning of the girl fell away again.
"Well. Anything more I can do for you?" Reynolds asked.
Dermott said, "Yes, please. Could we have a list of the names of your security staff?"
Reynolds bent over the intercom and spoke to Corinne. He had just finished when Brinckman arrived accompanied by a tall, red-haired man whom he introduced as Carl Jorgensen.
Dermott said, "You were in charge of the night security shift, I understand. Were you around the sabotaged area at all tonight?"
"Several times."
"So often? I thought you would have been concentrating on what we regarded -- mistakenly -- as the more vulnerable areas."
"I went around them a couple of times, but by jeep only. But I had this funny feeling that we might have been guarding the wrong places. Don't ask me why."
"Your funny feeling didn't turn out to be so funny after all. Anything off-beat? Anything to arouse suspicion?"
"Nothing. I know everybody on the night shift and I know where they work. Nobody there that shouldn't have been there, nobody in any place that he hadn't any right to be."
"You've got a key to the blasting shed. Where do you keep it?"
"Terry Brinckman mentioned this. I have it only during my tour of duty and then I hand it over. I always carry it in the same button-down pocket on my shirt."
"Could
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