Connolly thought for a minute. “Is that possible? Would he be asked to do something like that? Unofficially?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think they trusted him that way.”
“The way they trust you. Why not?”
“He was foreign.”
“Everybody here’s foreign.”
“That’s what makes them crazy. They can’t trust anyone. Mike, look, I have to ask. Anything I tell you-”
“You can trust me,” Connolly said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
They were driving around the bottom of the mesa, away from the canyon where the car had been hidden, back toward the east gate. Connolly looked out the window, again imagining the drive that night.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Mills said.
But Connolly was lost in his own thoughts. “You have to admit, he’d be ideal from their point of view.”
“No. You don’t know them. He was too smart for them.”
“You weren’t.”
“They didn’t have much choice. I’m the only one you’re working with. Anyway, I’m not a Communist. Karl might have been. For a while, anyway. That makes them crazier than anything.”
“I thought he was tortured by them. Or was that a lie too?”
“No, there’s no question about that. He hated them. But there it was in his file. They’re not going to use anybody with that in his file. I know. They had me on the clearance files the first few months I was here. Lansdale’s like a maniac with that stuff. Van Drasek’s worse. You met him yet? He’s a real cutie. Crazy.”
Connolly smiled. “Pretty high opinion of your colleagues.”
“They’re just following orders too. But look who’s giving them. Van Drasek’s specialty is Reds, so he keeps busy. You know what it’s like here. Half the Berkeley crowd were parlor pinks. The unions, the Negroes-the usual. It doesn’t amount to a damn thing, but try to tell old Van Drasek that. He’s on a mission. He’s out at Lawrence’s lab again-goes through the place over and over.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to get away from his wife.”
“We’d all be better off. He’s serious, though. I’ve seen him deny clearance to scientists here and then call the university to get them fired. A real vindictive prick. And he’s got Lawrence running in every direction, scared shitless they’ll stop his funding. He’s got files on everyone. I know.”
“You know a lot,” Connolly said, thinking of that first night, Mills’s shiny head bobbing at the square dance. “Why doesn’t Oppenheimer put a stop to it?”
“Are you kidding? He’s the one they want most. They’ve all got the knives out for Oppenheimer. You should see the file they’ve got on him.”
“I have seen it.”
“Not all of it, you haven’t. Every meeting. Every check for the Spanish refugees. His brother. The girlfriend-she was a party member. His wife used to be married to one. His students-any kid that’s left of Roosevelt they blame on him. It just piles up. Van Drasek wouldn’t even clear him until Groves told him to fuck off and just pushed it through himself.”
“But why? What does he think Oppenheimer’s doing, working for the Russians?”
“Why. He’s crazy. He’d love it if Oppie were working for them-that would be perfect. Actually, what it is, Oppenheimer thinks it’s bullshit and they know he thinks it. Which means he thinks they’re bullshit. Which they are. But they can’t touch him as long as he’s building their damn bomb and Groves protects him. And the more he tries to get along with them, the more they hate him. They’re all obsessed with him-the crazies, anyway. I think that’s why Karl was following him. He was a little obsessed too.”
“What?”
“Well, if he was. I don’t know for sure. You’re the one who thought he was following somebody.”
“I never thought it was Oppenheimer.”
“I know, it doesn’t fit your story. But he’s the only one I can ever remember Karl talking about. He was interested in Oppie.”
“Why?”
“I think because they were. Karl was ambitious, you know? Maybe he thought if he could get something on Oppie, he’d angle himself a nice big promotion. Be one of the big boys. Of course, that’s where he was crazy, because they didn’t trust him either.”
They had begun the steep climb up the hill. Connolly was thinking again. “So if he had anything on somebody, he’d want to make sure.”
“Home at last,” Mills said as they approached the gate. And, oddly, it was. Connolly looked at the high wire fence, the MPs checking passes, the rough buildings dim in the moonlight, and felt at home, somewhere to screen out the rest of the world. Was this what the killer had felt-relief at being back, the canyon and the panic at the church behind him?
“Are you going to report our conversation tonight?” Connolly said.
“I have to write something,” Mills said apologetically.
“Try this. Say that I have evidence Karl was asked by Lansdale to do a check on Van Drasek. And accidentally get a copy to Van Drasek. We could have some fun with them.”
Mills shook his head and smiled. “You have the fun. I just want to get back to Winnetka in one piece.”
