The Satan Bug

The Satan Bug by Alistair MacLean

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Authors: Alistair MacLean
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work."
    "Chessingham and Dr. Hartnell. How strong are their stories?"
    "Why those'two?" His voice was a suspicious crackle.
    " I'm interested in them. I'm going to see them to-night and I wondered what their stories were."
    " You're not going to see anyone without my say-so, Cavell." His voice was pretty close to a shout. "I don't want people blundering in-----"
    " I won't blunder. I'm going, Hardanger. The General said I was to have a free hand, didn't he? Blocking my way— which you can do—is not my idea of giving a free hand. The General wouldn't like it, Hardanger."
    A silence. Hardanger was bringing himself under control. At last- he said, in a quieter tone, " You gave me to believe that you didn't suspect Chessingham."
    " I want to see him. He's not only acute and observant, he's more than usually friendly with Dr. Hartnell. It's Hartnell I'm really interested in.
    He's an outstanding research man, young and financially irresponsible. He thinks because he's clever with bugs he can be the same on the stock market.
    Three months ago Hartnell put all his cash into a fly-by-night company who'd splurged their adverts in all the national dailies. He lost the lot.
    Then he mortgaged his house a few weeks before I left Mordon. I believe he lost most of that too, trying to recoup."
    "Why the hell didn't you tell me before?" Hardanger demanded.
    " It just suddenly came to me this evening."
    " It just suddenly came-----" Hardanger's voice cut off as if he had been strangled. Then he said, thoughtfully, " Isn't that too easy?
    Jumping on Hartnell? Because he's heading for the bankruptcy court?"
    " I don't know. As I say, he's not clever at everything. I've got to find out. Both have alibis, of course?"
    "Both were at home. Their families vouch for them. I want to see you later." He'd given up. " I'll be at the County in Alfringham."
    " I'm at the Waggoner's Rest. A couple of minutes away. Could you come round to see us? About ten?"
    " Us?"
    " Mary came down this afternoon."
    " Mary?" There was surprise in his voice, suspicion that he didn't get round to elaborating but, above all, pleasure. One good reason Hardanger had for not liking me too much was that I'd made off with the best secretary he'd ever had: she'd been with him three years and if any person could ever be said to be the apple of an eye like a basilisk it was Mary.
    He said he would be around at ten.

CHAPTER FIVE
    I drove out to Hailem Woods with Mary sitting strangely silent by my side. Over dinner I'd told her the whole story— the whole story. I'd never seen her scared before, but she was that now. Badly. Two frightened people in a car.
    We reached Chessingham's house about a quarter to eight. It was an old-fashioned, flat-roofed, stone-built affair with long narrow windows and a flight of stone steps leading up to the front door over a moat-like trench that ran right round the house and gave light to the basement.
    High trees, sighing in the cold night wind, surrounded the house on four sides and it was beginning to rain heavily. It was a place and a night in keeping with our mood.
    Chessingham had heard the car and met us at the top of the steps. He looked pale and strained but there was nothing in that, everyone who was in anyway connected with ‘E’ block had every reason for looking pale and strained that day.
    " Cavell," he said. He didn't offer his hand, but opened the door wide and stood sideways to let us in. "I heard you were in Mordon. Must say I didn't expect you out here though. I thought they asked me enough questions to-day as it was."
    " This is a pretty unofficial visit," I assured him. " My wife, Chessingham. When I bring along my wife I leave the handcuffs at home."
    It wasn't funny. He shook hands reluctantly with Mary and led us into an old-fashioned sitting-room with heavy Edwardian furniture, velvet drapes from ceiling to floor and a fire burning in a huge open fireplace. There were two people sitting in high-backed arm-chairs by the

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