“You know how to use it, don’t you? I mean, you don’t need a lesson or anything.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Just remember about the safety. Of course, you’re supposed to catch the other guy’s bullet first, so what the hell.”
“Catch how?”
“By dying, mostly. Put your body in front of Oppie and do your bit for the war effort.”
“Can’t we send someone else?”
“You have something better to do?”
Connolly looked at him, wondering for a minute whether Mills suspected anything. Did it show, this heat? Like some priapic blush? But Mills was only being sarcastic. “Just finish the accounts, okay? You might give Holliday a buzz. He’ll let things slide if you don’t goose him now and then. Where am I going, by the way?”
“South. To the test site.”
“I didn’t know there was one.”
“They built it in December. Must be getting ready to do something, ‘cause there’s been quite a little traffic back and forth lately. Try to avoid lunch if you can.”
“Why?”
“It’s antelope. Enlisted men have nothing to do down there except shoot rattlesnakes and antelope and roast them-the antelope, that is. They say it tastes like beef, but that’s only because they’ve had their brains bleached out in the sun. It tastes like antelope.”
“How far is this place, anyway?”
“About two hundred miles.”
“Christ, that’s all day.”
Mills grinned and handed him a test site pass stamped with a large T. “Don’t forget to ask about the money.”
In fact, it was the first thing they discussed.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Oppenheimer said as Connolly started down the switchback road in the morning sunlight. He was sitting in front, at his request, and was clearly expecting to talk. “This will give us a chance to catch up. Any progress? Suspects?”
“Only you.”
“I beg your pardon?” He twisted in the passenger seat, his eyebrows raised, anticipating a joke.
“Why did you withdraw a thousand dollars over three months this winter?”
Oppenheimer was quiet, then lit a cigarette. “None of your damned business.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Then I’ll take your word for it.”
Oppenheimer looked out the passenger window and smoked. Finally he said, “You needn’t do that. It’s personal, but not, I suppose, secret. I’m not allowed secrets anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“No, you’re just doing your job,” Oppenheimer said. “Go ahead, do it.”
“What did you do with the money?”
“Put it into two postal orders and sent them to an old friend who needed it.”
“Why?”
“She’s been under psychiatric care, if you must know. She’s broke. We call it a loan.”
“No, I mean why a postal order?”
“How else? We don’t have checks up here. You know that.”
“Do you still have the receipts?”
“Yes.”
“Does your wife know?”
“Yes.” He was silent again. “You’ve got a hell of a nerve, you know that?”
“You authorized the search.”
Oppenheimer sighed. “So. No good deed goes unpunished. I never imagined you wanted to look at mine. More fool me. Of course you would. I’m the obvious person to beat someone up in the park. Do you ever feel embarrassed doing this?”
Connolly downshifted. “I don’t feel great now, if that’s what you mean.”
Oppenheimer sighed again. “No, of course you don’t. And now I should apologize for being rude, which somehow makes it all my fault, when you were the one asking the questions. Interesting how we tie ourselves up in knots, isn’t it?”
“Well, don’t do it on my account. Look, I’m eliminating any loose end I can. I didn’t mean to intrude on your personal life. Let’s just forget it.”
“But what did you think it meant? What are you looking for? What’s the point of it all?”
“Bruner came into some money before he died. He may have been blackmailing somebody. He may not. I want to find out where he got it.”
“And you thought he was blackmailing me? What on earth about? Do you think there’s a single thing about me the government doesn’t already know? Maybe you should see what it feels like to be on the other side of a security check. Your left-wing friends. Your right-wing friends-well, such as they are. Your old girlfriends. Your Jewish friends. Your students. An ambulance for Spain? Was that politically motivated? What did you study in Germany? How much do you drink? Do you ever feel conflicted loyalties? My God, does one ever not?”
“I said, let’s forget it.”
“Bruner didn’t know anything about the project.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that.”
“What, then?”
“He was homosexual. That gets to be a pretty sensitive issue.”
“Oh,” Oppenheimer said, then laughed. “Well, I have to hand it to you-that’s one question they never asked. Are you writing this up for my file? Am I supposed to formally deny it?”
“I’m not writing anything.”
“It would almost be worth it to see the look on G. G.’s face,” he said, still amused.
“I thought you might be sensitive on someone else’s behalf. A friend. Someone who needed the money.”
Oppenheimer looked over at him. “Only the once,” he said, ending it.
