Part 108 (1/2)

”What is it?” Hammond asked.

Thomas said nothing. He reached into the box, gingerly touching the stained s.h.i.+rt at the collar, carefully avoiding the neck bone

Thomas pulled. Gently, as if in respect for the dead. The skull rolled slightly, as if to change its view. The teeth remained frozen in a grin.

”The ident.i.ty,” said Thomas in a voice shaky and not far above a whisper.

”The second ident.i.ty that your missing spy slipped into.”

Leslie stared distastefully at the skeleton, a sickened feeling growing in her stomach. Hammond did Dot yet understand. Not completely.

”The spy inhabited the ident.i.ty of another man, Arthur Sandler, in the first nine years after the war,” said Thomas.

”Then that didn't work anymore. A new man was put into Sandler's ident.i.ty That man was killed, freeing the spy. But the spy needed somewhere else to go. A little research, a lot of plastic surgery, an ocean of nerve, and he slipped into another man's life. Who'd look inside another man for a missing spy?” Thomas paused.

”How fast can you get a small airplane?” he asked.

”Within an hour or two answered Hammond.

”From La Guardia Why?” Hammond was frowning, ma.s.sive bags forming beneath his eyes.

”We'll need it right- away. Your spy is planning his escape. He may already be gone.”

”I don't follow.”

”Don't you?” asked Thomas, standing.

”It was all over the front pages of the newspapers this week.”

”Oh, my G.o.d!” Leslie suddenly gasped.

”The fis.h.i.+ng fleets!”

Thomas managed a half smile and a nod.

”Exactly.” He turned back to Hammond.

”s.h.i.+ne the light in there)' he said, motioning to the oak box and its crumbling inhabitant.

”It reads like an engraved invitation Hammond leaned over. Leslie, transfixed by the sight as much as she was disgusted by it, peered over Hammond's shoulder. They both crouched for a closer view.

At the collar of the suit was a store label, Dunhill Tailors of New York, dated 1954. It had been a new suit. The man who'd worn the suit had been of the opinion that top-quality clothing would last forever and survive even longer than the wearer. Time had proven him correct.

Beneath the tailoes trademark was another label, the client's name. The letters were faded and stained by blood two decades old.

But they were legible.

Hammond and Leslie read at once.

The letters read simply A. ZENGLER.