Part 34 (1/2)

Fernack nodded. ”I've got it,” he said. He fished around on his desk, and brought up a sheet of paper. He held it up to the screen while Malone copied off the name and address. ”Lieutenant Lynch told me all about it.”

”Lynch?” Malone said. ”But he--”

”Lynch works for me, Malone,” Fernack said. ”Remember that.”

”But he said he'd--”

”He said he wouldn't do anything, and he won't,” Fernack said. ”He just reported it to me for my action. He knew I was working with you, Malone. And I am his boss, remember.”

”Great,” Malone said. ”Now, John Henry--”

”Hold it, Malone,” Fernack said. ”I'd like a little information too, you know. I'd like to know just what the h.e.l.l is going on, if it isn't too much trouble.”

”It's not that, John Henry,” Malone said earnestly. ”Really. It's just that I--”

”All this about vanis.h.i.+ng boys,” Fernack said. ”Disappearing into thin air. All this nonsense.”

”It isn't nonsense,” Malone said.

”All right,” Fernack said indulgently. ”Boys disappear every day like that. Sure they do.” He leaned toward the screen and his voice was as hard as his face. ”Malone, are these kids mixed up with those impossible robberies you had me looking up?”

”Well,” Malone said, ”I think so. But I doubt if you could prove it.”

Fernack's face had begun its slow climb toward purple again. ”Malone,”

he said, ”if you're suppressing evidence, even if you are the FBI, I'll--”

”I'm not suppressing any evidence,” Malone said. ”I don't think _you_ could prove a connection. I don't think _I_ could prove a connection.

I don't think _anybody_ could--not right now.”

Fernack leaned back, apparently mollified.

”John Henry,” Malone said, ”I want to ask you to keep your hands off this case. To let me handle it my way.”

Fernack nodded absently. ”Sure, Malone,” he said.

_”What?”_

”I said sure,” Fernack said. ”Isn't that what you wanted?”

”Well, yes,” Malone said, ”but--”

Fernack leaned all the way back in his chair, his face a mask of disappointment and frustration. ”Malone,” he said, ”I wish I'd never heard of this case. I wish I'd been retired or died before it ever came up. I've been a police officer in New York for a long time, and I wish this case had waited a few more years to happen.”

He stopped. Malone leaned against the back wall of the phone booth and lit a cigarette.

”Andy Burris called me less than half an hour ago,” Fernack said.

”Oh,” Malone said.

”That's right,” Fernack said. ”Good old Burris of the FBI. And he told me this was a National Security case. National Security! It's your baby, Malone, because Burris wants it that way.” He snorted. ”So don't worry about me,” he said. ”I'm just here to co-operate. The patriotic, loyal, dumb slave of a grateful government.”