Scandal in the Secret City (16 page)

N
o one had exaggerated in their descriptions of the Dossett Tunnel – more than a mile long and a fearsome sight to behold. Huge piles of blasted black rock funneled into a dark, forbidding hole. Would it look less menacing in spring with the green leaves of kudzu cascading over its face? Probably. In the dead of winter, though, the bright growth was gone. All that remained was a skeleton of brown vines gripping the rocks in a stranglehold.

I stepped onto the tracks and walked closer, stepping on one railroad tie then the next. When I reached the maw of darkness, I could see a faraway, small shape of light. The light at the end of the tunnel; I’d heard that phrase many times but the reality of it was never as visceral as it was now, a tiny bead of hope at the end of an ominous emptiness.

My whole body felt peculiar – weary from the hike to the tunnel, invigorated by the fresh air, jittery with excited anticipation, nauseous from the surge of adrenaline. I heard the others breathing. Which of them hoped I’d simply take a look and walk away? Which of them imagined me bursting into tears? Did any of them really believe that I would succeed?

But I had to do it. I needed their help. To get it, I had to prove that I was just as good, just as brave, as they were. I sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the first traces of the acrid smoke that bellowed from the trains, lingered in the confines of the rock and drifted out into the trees. I sucked in another breath as if it would imbue me with courage. ‘I guess this is it,’ I said and took another step closer.

‘You gotta go halfway or it doesn’t count,’ Tom said. With his thick hank of bright red hair, a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and a nearly perpetual sneer, he looked like a schoolyard bully. Although he didn’t utter the playground challenge of ‘double dog dare you’, I felt the words hanging in the air. He had to have been one of the men who objected to the addition of a female.

Teddy, one of the scientists from the Alpha lab, handed me a flashlight. ‘Good luck,’ he said. With his dark, curly hair and sparkling blue eyes, he could easily be quite a charmer over dinner or on the dance floor.

Gregg reached out and touched my forearm. ‘Just halfway, then turn around and come back.’ His pupils floated in liquid fear. Was he more afraid than I was?

I forced a brave smile, then stepped into the tunnel. The stench of burnt coal tasted harsh in my mouth and felt tight in my lungs. I walked until the light from the entryway faded, the inkiness felt like a physical substance brushing against my skin, before I turned on the flashlight. The rock was so black it seemed to absorb the light, pulling it from the bulb and swallowing it whole.

I kept moving forward one step at a time. The flashlight shook in my hand. I successfully banished the fear of the approaching train only to have it replaced by a more intense terror at the thought of being crushed to death by the collapse of this manmade passageway. A slight shift in the earth and one boulder after another could tumble down, crushing my bones. First, I’d be pinned to the ground. Then, one by one, every bone in my body would break, my lungs would collapse, I’d be dead. Would they bother trying to dig out my body? Or would they all – like scared little boys – scurry back to town, vowing one another to secrecy, pricking their fingers, mingling their blood with an oath that was eternal.

My foot faltered as I slipped on a slick tie. I pulled in my gut to support my back and regain a sense of balance. I shook my head to drive out the morbid products of my imagination, filling the void with a recitation of the periodic table – Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen – one element for each step. Then I heard shouting.

‘That’s far enough.’

‘You made it.’

‘Come back.’

‘Turn around’

‘Come back now.’

I heard them yell but kept moving forward. To succeed in a male-dominated world, I couldn’t just be as good as them, I had to be better. I’d make it to Iron, the symbol of strength, before turning back. Oxygen, Flourine, Neon, Sodium, Magnesium, Aluminum, Silicon, Phosphorous …

Their shouts grew more frenzied, a pleading tone echoed in the tunnel. Still I walked forward – one element, one step. Sulfur, Chlorine, Argon, Potassium, Calcium, Scandium, Titanium, Vanadium, Chromium, Manganese, Iron …

I paused, raised my arms in the air and pirouetted to face the path I’d traveled. Fear clutched my throat; the entrance looked so far away, the window of light too small. I started walking back, still reciting the periodic table to keep my terrors at bay. I shuddered when the element Arsenic passed my lips. Was there someone in the group aligned with the perpetrator of Irene’s murder or with those who wanted to cover up the crime? If so, did he now pray to an evil God for the arrival of a train – a rushing, relentless monster of metal that would obliterate my life as if it had never been?

Maybe the whole group was being used by outside forces to silence me permanently. It would look like nothing more than a tragic accident. Once I was dead, the tunnel would become officially off-limits. Maybe they’d even post a guard.

Red lights flashed danger inside my head. The surging fight-or-flight response screamed at me to run but I refused to listen. I had to maintain my dignity to really pass the test and besides, the possibility of twisting an ankle on the ties or tripping and falling on the uneven surface was great.

Then, I felt the vibrations under my feet. Dread and disbelief exploded and raced through my limbs. My fingers went numb. I moved faster now, taking more risks. I heard renewed, even louder, shouting.

‘Hurry!’

‘Run!’

‘Get out of there!’

I walked as quickly as I could, afraid if I broke into a run, I was sure to fall. I heard a roar echoing through the tunnel. I looked over my shoulder. I could no longer see the exit – just one round light piercing the gloom, moving closer. It was gaining on me, I had to move faster. I broke into a stumbling run. I was a few yards away from the end when a hand grabbed and pulled me faster.

When my feet tangled up, an arm encircled my waist, holding me up, propelling me forward. We broke into open air and kept moving, past the barrier of solid rock, tumbling to the side, into the dirt. A hand pushed down on my back. I lay flat, turning to look at who came to my aid. Teddy; he’d introduced himselfto me on the hike up to the tunnel and he made it clear that he didn’t resent my infiltration. I mimicked his actions – pursing my mouth tight, squeezing my eyes shut, putting my hands over my ears.

Still the noise was overwhelming; it vibrated in my teeth, rang in my ears. A rush of hot, vile air spewed out as if from the throat of a demonic dragon. It washed over me, filling my airways. Gravel pinged on my face. I pressed my nose into the ground and felt tiny, stinging attacks on the top of my head. For a moment, I did not believe I would survive.

Then it was over, as suddenly as a nightmare. I looked up, amazed. I pushed up on all fours and rose to my feet, my wobbling knees barely able to hold my weight. On the opposite side of the track, the others straggled towards us. No one spoke. Teddy’s hand grabbed mine again, jerking my arm upward.

‘The champion!’ he screamed.

Across the tracks, the others erupted in a raucous cheer. I knew that some barriers still remained but I had taken a step closer to being one of them. Or, perhaps Teddy’s act of bravery was nothing more than a smokescreen. A false front designed to trip me up, to put me in his debt, to be a stumbling block in my search for answers. As I looked at Teddy, though, a grin split his face, not a trace of duplicity marred his features. But if he were clever enough to come to my rescue with a dark purpose in mind, wouldn’t he be sharp enough to craft an impenetrable mask?

I set aside those dark thoughts and reveled in the newfound camaraderie with my fellow chemists. I couldn’t stop grinning as they patted me on the back and commented on my gutsiness – ‘pretty damn tough for a girl’, ‘Ought sic her on Adolph’, ‘Let her spit in the eye of the kamikaze’. The high spirits and banter continued all the way down the hill and into town, ending only when the men entered the Benton Hall and I continued on to my little flattop home.

After a shower and a bowl of soup, I went straight into bed. I was physically exhausted and emotionally drained; still, questions about the risk of trusting this strange little group of Walking Molecules kept me awake for more than an hour. When I finally drifted off to sleep, their faces haunted my dreams.

A
special meeting of the Walking Molecules was called for Monday night to discuss my problem, propose theories and outline action steps. I was nervous. Sure I’d impressed them with my bravado on Sunday but could I dazzle them with logic in a calmer setting? I opted to eliminate emotion and focus on hard facts; a scientific explanation as if addressing a symposium.

‘Before Libby starts, let’s go around the table and give our names to refresh our newest member’s memory. As you know, I am Gregg and this is Libby.’

The redhead next to Gregg said, ‘Tom.’

He was followed by the sandy-haired bespectacled Joe; my rescuer from Dossett Tunnel, Teddy; the chubby, buck-toothed Gary; then Stephen, with the whitest complexion I’d ever seen.

‘Rudy,’ said a brown-haired, brown-eyed man who never seemed to put out a cigarette until he had another one lit. Next to him was Dennis, a tall, rangy guy with a face that looked like a stereotypical westerner. Finally, the man with a large, bulbous nose and a prominent Adam’s apple said, ‘Marvin.’

I summarized the problem first: my discovery of the body, its disappearance and the official version of events. I postulated theories to explain the sequence of events including the actions of a single person, the cover-up by police and administration and a conspiracy by the military. I concluded with a risk assessment.

‘I have clearly been warned that the pursuit of answers in the mystery of Irene Nance’s death could be detrimental to my career. As a scientist, I can’t help but bristle when any authority tries to interfere with the finding of facts. As a human being, I am conflicted by my obligation to my country and my commitment to my friend. I have resolved these diametrically opposed needs by reaching the conclusion that the former is a false paradigm.

‘It is up to each one of you to decide if you want to help me uncover the truth behind these events and, thus, put your careers in jeopardy. No one can make that decision for you. If you decide to back away, I only ask that you hold this matter in confidence as you all vowed you would any discussion occurring within this group. Thank you.’

I stared down at the surface of the table, unwilling to look any of them in the eye, fearing that they would all look away. For a couple of minutes no one spoke. The only sound in the room was caused by bodies shifting their weight in chairs, beer mugs sipped and set back down on the table and a host of erratic sighs and audible exhalations.

Gregg spoke up first. ‘As you all know, I brought Libby into our group because I believed that she had a need to uncover facts and that we might possess the ability to help her do so. I, for one, will assist her in this project whether the group chooses to become involved or not.’

‘Do you say that because you and Clark are stuck on each other?’ Tom asked, a leering expression on his face.

Gregg jerked his head toward Tom’s voice. ‘If we were, so what? That wouldn’t alter the problem under consideration. But here are the facts: Clark and I work together in the same lab. I have great respect for her competence in the lab and the nimbleness of her mind. Until last week, we had never met each other outside of Y-12. And then we had lunch together to discuss this same problem.’

‘But, Gregg,’ Tom said. ‘She’s a woman. You know how they overreact and exaggerate.’

Gregg leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. ‘How can you overreact to a murder? How can you exaggerate a murder? It was a murder, you know. That’s not an exaggeration. The authorities admit it is a murder. The only dispute is over where it happened. Or do you disagree with that, Tom? Do you think you know more than the police, the sheriff’s office and the military?’

‘But you only have her word on that, don’t you?’ Tom taunted.

I held my anger at bay, sensing that any interference from me could possibly send some of the group out of the room and, thus, decimate any hope of cooperation. As long as others were defending me, I was safer simply observing.

‘Oh, come on, Tom,’ Teddy interjected. ‘We’ve all heard that Irene Nance is dead. We’ve all heard about her body being found outside the Solway gate. We all heard the preachy message about the dangers that lurk out there among some of the disenfranchised locals.’

‘Yeah, but before now, we never heard anything about a body being found in the high school bleachers, did we? What if she’s making it all up to get attention?’ Tom asked.

Joe, the archetypal quiet one, with his studious demeanor and thick, dark-framed glasses, cleared his throat. Every head turned in his direction. ‘I find it quite offensive that someone would question the honesty and integrity of one of our scientific peers without cause.’ When he paused, no one said a word or made a move, except for Tom who pushed back from the table and rolled his eyes. ‘It seems obvious to me,’ Joe continued, ‘that the first step here is to determine who among us has ever dated the deceased.’

Gary, who seemed to follow Tom’s lead, snickered. ‘Who hasn’t?’

Tom spoke up again. ‘I really don’t like speaking ill of the dead …’

I jerked my head up and snapped, ‘Then don’t!’ I looked at the faces of the men gathered around me. ‘Are you telling me that every one of you dated Irene Nance?’

The question was greeted with a mingled mutter of yeses and nos. ‘How about a show of hands?’ To my surprise, five of the nine men present raised their hands. ‘My word. Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Her sister said she went out every night of the week.’

‘I regret saying this,’ Joe said, ‘but everyone who raised a hand is now a suspect. Perhaps we should discuss the nature and duration of your relationships with Miss Nance?’

Teddy’s face flushed. ‘It wasn’t much for me. In October, I took her to a dance in the cafeteria. Then a couple of nights later, we just went walking.’

‘Where, Teddy?’ Joe asked.

‘I don’t remember exactly where but we ended up at the football field at the high school.’

‘On the bleachers, Ted?’ Tom asked.

‘Well, yes, actually we did. We sat down on them and looked at the moon.’

‘Looked at the moon? Oh yeah, I bet that’s all you did,’ Tom said and guffawed.

‘Look,’ Teddy said. ‘We did hold hands and I kissed her twice …’

‘Was she a good kisser?’ Tom teased.

‘Shut up, Tom,’ Gregg snapped. ‘You were saying, Ted?’

‘I thought we had something going,’ Teddy admitted, ‘but after that night, I asked her out four or five more times. She was always busy, always had a date with someone else. I finally gave up. I’ve only seen her in passing since.’

One by one, the other men who dated Irene described their brief fling with her. Not one of them admitted to getting any further with her than hand-holding and a kiss or two.

Tom blew out a long breath. ‘And what have we got – a bunch of suspects who want us to take their word for what happened with no proof, no documentation.’

‘That’s really not a helpful attitude,’ Joe said. He stared at Tom and used his middle finger to push the center of his glasses up higher on his nose. ‘We need to trust one another unless and until that is shown to be unwise. Does everyone else agree with that?’

Murmurs of agreement went around the table. Stephen, pale as a worm and thin as a zipper, rose to his feet and paced the length of the table, his body leaning forward at a near impossible angle while he walked. ‘Don’t we need to start with an inventory, as it were? A list of all the scientists so we can know who is called Bill here at – uh, we can call this place Oak Ridge now, can’t we?’

‘Yes,’ Gregg said, ‘At least inside the fence. I don’t think we’re supposed to use the name if we go into Knoxville or any of the little towns around here.’

‘OK, well, how can we get all those names?’

‘I can ask Ann Bishop, I think she might give me a list,’ I offered. ‘But she’s only going to have names for those in Y-12. We know work has started at K-25 but I, for one, have no idea if it’s still in the basic construction stage or if scientists are at work in functional labs.’

‘But, Libby,’ Gregg said, ‘if we don’t know anything about or anyone working at K-25, how would Irene?’

‘She worked at the guest house. She saw all sorts of people. She once described a man who was the spitting image of Enrico Fermi but she said his name was Eugene Farmer. Who knows who else she met there?’

‘So it could be a resident scientist or a visiting scientist,’ Stephen said. ‘Does anyone have any contacts at K-25?’

The question was greeted by a shaking of heads. ‘We need to start somewhere. Why not Y-12? That is what we know,’ Teddy said.

‘I hate to complicate matters even more,’ Stephen said. ‘But what if this Bill guy wasn’t the one who killed her? What if someone else did out of jealousy or some other motive?’

‘I thought about that, Stephen, and you’re right,’ I agreed. ‘But we need to approach this problem in a linear fashion. If we discover data that points to another possibility, we need to retain that information for possible exploration, but we need to start somewhere and focus on the answer to one question before moving on to others.’

Nods went around the table. Everyone agreed to attempt to identify anyone they could whom they knew as Bill or who was hiding behind an official alias. They would meet again on Wednesday. At last something was being done. But my relief was short-lived as I tried to fall asleep. What if I had placed my trust in the wrong hands?