Zoological Park.
After calling to arrange an appointment, Jazine went to the place at two o’clock on Thursday afternoon. He’d noted with mild interest the fact that Ganger answered his vision-phone with the vision switch off, but that was not too startling. Many people did it these days, not wanting to be spied upon by strangers. For all Jazine knew, the phone might be located next to the bed.
The inventor proved to be a slim, middle-aged man with close-cropped blond hair and beard, and a manner about him that suggested a younger person. Seeing him amidst the minor luxuries of his apartment told Jazine something about the man—and also something about Mrs. Defoe. For one thing, he had a taste for expensive pieces of massive metal sculpture, some of it mildly obscene.
“Computer Investigation Bureau,” Jazine identified himself. “I called earlier.”
“Yes, yes! Mr. Jazine, isn’t it? I’ve read about the Computer Cops, of course, but I never thought I’d actually meet one!”
“It’s no great treat,” Earl told him. “We’re looking into Secretary Defoe’s death, trying to determine the cause of it.”
“Terrible thing! My God, the man was like an older brother to me!”
“Oh? I’d understood there was some bad feeling about the transvection machine.”
“No, no. Nothing that couldn’t have been patched up! I’ll admit I bore a little resentment at his being made a cabinet member on the basis of my invention, but those things happen in life sometimes.”
A philosophical liar, Earl Jazine decided. “How much do you know, as an inventor and scientist, about computerized surgery, Mr. Ganger?”
“Well, very little, actually. I didn’t think this sort of thing could happen, though. I thought it was virtually foolproof. My God, when they can’t even spare a surgeon to operate on a member of the president’s cabinet, the country’s in really bad shape!”
Jazine cleared his throat. “There exists the possibility that Vander Defoe was murdered.”
“Murdered? Who would want to kill old Vander? He was a popular guy.”
“Well, you for one. He did steal your invention.”
“Not really. We were in partnership together and the partnership was dissolved. Happens every day.”
“But all the preliminary work on the invention was done by you, was it not?”
Hubert Ganger nodded. “Yes, but it was untested. It was only theory. I was the first to tell Vander it was an uncertain enterprise. All the testing, and the work with the government, was his doing.”
“Think it would work for interplanetary travel to Venus?”
Ganger shrugged and stroked his beard. “I had my doubts as to whether it would work on Earth, but it does.”
Jazine decided to bear down with his questions. “Mr. Ganger, just what is your relationship with Defoe’s widow?”
“Gretel? She’s a charming young woman, barely out of her twenties. She was his second wife, you know. I see her occasionally, for dinner and such. Nothing more.”
“I understand there was some talk of divorce.”
“Nothing serious. They were separated, of course, but Gretel seemed content with things as they were.”
Jazine shifted to a different approach. “Did you know about Vander Defoe’s impending operation?”
Ganger hesitated. “No. How could I have? I understand the appendicitis attack was quite sudden.”
Possibly another lie, Jazine thought, but he couldn’t be certain this time. “Look, I’ve got a sort of wild idea that I’d like to discuss with you. It’s about the transvection machine.”
The bearded man frowned. “Yes?”
“Well, Vander Defoe was alone in the operating room, being cut into by this computerized machine. No one else was present except a nurse named Bonnie Simmons. Then, without warning, the machine starts cutting up Defoe’s insides. The massive hemorrhage throws him into shock and he dies before help can reach him.”
“That’s what happened?”
“That’s what seems to have happened.
After calling to arrange an appointment, Jazine went to the place at two o’clock on Thursday afternoon. He’d noted with mild interest the fact that Ganger answered his vision-phone with the vision switch off, but that was not too startling. Many people did it these days, not wanting to be spied upon by strangers. For all Jazine knew, the phone might be located next to the bed.
The inventor proved to be a slim, middle-aged man with close-cropped blond hair and beard, and a manner about him that suggested a younger person. Seeing him amidst the minor luxuries of his apartment told Jazine something about the man—and also something about Mrs. Defoe. For one thing, he had a taste for expensive pieces of massive metal sculpture, some of it mildly obscene.
“Computer Investigation Bureau,” Jazine identified himself. “I called earlier.”
“Yes, yes! Mr. Jazine, isn’t it? I’ve read about the Computer Cops, of course, but I never thought I’d actually meet one!”
“It’s no great treat,” Earl told him. “We’re looking into Secretary Defoe’s death, trying to determine the cause of it.”
“Terrible thing! My God, the man was like an older brother to me!”
“Oh? I’d understood there was some bad feeling about the transvection machine.”
“No, no. Nothing that couldn’t have been patched up! I’ll admit I bore a little resentment at his being made a cabinet member on the basis of my invention, but those things happen in life sometimes.”
A philosophical liar, Earl Jazine decided. “How much do you know, as an inventor and scientist, about computerized surgery, Mr. Ganger?”
“Well, very little, actually. I didn’t think this sort of thing could happen, though. I thought it was virtually foolproof. My God, when they can’t even spare a surgeon to operate on a member of the president’s cabinet, the country’s in really bad shape!”
Jazine cleared his throat. “There exists the possibility that Vander Defoe was murdered.”
“Murdered? Who would want to kill old Vander? He was a popular guy.”
“Well, you for one. He did steal your invention.”
“Not really. We were in partnership together and the partnership was dissolved. Happens every day.”
“But all the preliminary work on the invention was done by you, was it not?”
Hubert Ganger nodded. “Yes, but it was untested. It was only theory. I was the first to tell Vander it was an uncertain enterprise. All the testing, and the work with the government, was his doing.”
“Think it would work for interplanetary travel to Venus?”
Ganger shrugged and stroked his beard. “I had my doubts as to whether it would work on Earth, but it does.”
Jazine decided to bear down with his questions. “Mr. Ganger, just what is your relationship with Defoe’s widow?”
“Gretel? She’s a charming young woman, barely out of her twenties. She was his second wife, you know. I see her occasionally, for dinner and such. Nothing more.”
“I understand there was some talk of divorce.”
“Nothing serious. They were separated, of course, but Gretel seemed content with things as they were.”
Jazine shifted to a different approach. “Did you know about Vander Defoe’s impending operation?”
Ganger hesitated. “No. How could I have? I understand the appendicitis attack was quite sudden.”
Possibly another lie, Jazine thought, but he couldn’t be certain this time. “Look, I’ve got a sort of wild idea that I’d like to discuss with you. It’s about the transvection machine.”
The bearded man frowned. “Yes?”
“Well, Vander Defoe was alone in the operating room, being cut into by this computerized machine. No one else was present except a nurse named Bonnie Simmons. Then, without warning, the machine starts cutting up Defoe’s insides. The massive hemorrhage throws him into shock and he dies before help can reach him.”
“That’s what happened?”
“That’s what seems to have happened.
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