The Observers Part 2

"Where are you from originally, Mr. Thompson?"

"Chicago."

"Oh, yes." He glanced at the written information. "I see you went to the University."

"Yes, sir. My practical experience is doc.u.mented on the second sheet."

What was it about this guy? He was overly polite but that could hardly be considered strange. His answers were brief, to the point, even curt.

That was just a personality trait, Harry supposed. Couldn't condemn a man for that.

"How long did you live in Chicago?"

"Twenty-one years, sir."

"Are you married?"

"No, sir."

He had noted before that Mr. Thompson had a distracting habit of patting his hair. Now he knew why. He was wearing a toupee. Harry wondered if the poor guy was sensitive about it. If he _was_ that conscious of it, it might account for his strange att.i.tude.

"Thank you for coming in, Mr. Thompson. I'll submit your papers to Colonel Waters. If he has any further interest in you, don't be surprised if you receive a visit from a couple of Intelligence agents.

That's routine for this job. I just tell you in advance so you won't worry."

"I understand," he said, rising and checking his toupee once more. "Many thanks to you, sir." He shook Harry's hand and left the room.

Harry glanced at the papers again. Mr. Thompson's background was impressive indeed. There didn't seem to be much question as to his ability. But what a queer duck he was!

The second applicant was a short, wiry man named Chase. Like his predecessor, he was brief and to the point with his answers. He let his qualification papers speak for themselves. He was formal and polite.

Midway through the interview Harry noticed that he too was wearing a toupee. If that wasn't the d.a.m.nedest coincidence! Fortunately Mr. Chase didn't have the annoying habit of patting his head every thirty seconds.

Harry guessed he either had a more expensive one or was just endowed with more confidence that it would not slip off.

The interview over, Mr. Chase offered his thanks and strolled out.

Harry had a few moments to himself before Paula's third client arrived.

He thought about the first two men. Funny thing about toupees ... even the most expensive ones could always be detected. He couldn't quite understand why the two men wore them. They were often used by playboys, actors, self-styled over-age Romeos, people whose niche in society depends upon their looks. But not scientists or technicians. In fact Harry couldn't remember ever having known one such person who shunned his baldness in this manner. That didn't mean they had no right. But it did seem peculiar as h.e.l.l.

By the time the third interview was over Harry Payne's curiosity was ablaze. Applicant number three, Mr. Boles, was not only wearing a toupee but had gone one step further. Just north of his mouth there was a mustache! A good-looking mustache, well groomed and shaped, but phoney as a wax banana.

For a moment he thought Paula Ralston might be perpetrating a joke of elaborate proportions. He rejected the idea as fast as it came to him.

He didn't know the girl very well yet, but he knew her well enough to know she was strictly business. _She wanted one of these men to get that job._

He flipped the intercom b.u.t.ton for Miss Conway. She might be able to tell him ... indirectly.

"You wanted me, Mr. Payne?"

"Yes, Miss Conway. The three men who've already been in here ... have you noticed anything strange about them?"

Her eyebrows merged and spelled perplexity. She pursed her lips and gave the matter the gravest consideration. Then she concluded, "Yes, something very strange."

Harry was hopeful. "What was it?"

"None of them did very much talking. Strictly anti-social types."

Harry groaned, realizing he should have known better. "Thank you, Miss Conway. That's all."

"The fourth guy is waiting outside."

"Let him sit for a couple of minutes, then send him in."

He decided to put the whole matter out of his mind and get the interviews over as fast as possible. There were other, more serious duties to attend to. The toupee episode was probably nothing more than a crazy coincidence anyway. Strictly an item for Believe-It-Or-Not.

By two o'clock that afternoon the four remaining candidates had come and gone. And Harry Payne sat at his desk in the immediate aftermath questioning his sanity. All seven men wore toupees! It was incredible but true. And now the matter was one of deep and abiding concern to him.

There was nothing funny about it. There was a touch of the macabre in it that rendered his flesh cold and weak.

He lit a cigarette and tried to pull his thoughts together. Seven men applying for the same job; seven men with one thing in common; seven men as bald as Doctor Cyclops. Harry had to abandon the notion that sheer coincidence brought these men together. That was too fantastic. They were brought together by design.

Their backgrounds varied in that they had all worked and come from different parts of the country. But those facts were only on paper. It was an odds-on bet they all knew each other. There was even something about the order in which they arrived at the office that indicated a pattern or an over-all plan. Numbers three, five and six had worn false mustaches.

If it was true the seven men were well acquainted then Paula Ralston could undoubtedly give him some answers. Harry had another dinner engagement with her at five o'clock. But this date, he told himself, would be different. _He_ was going to be all business until he learned exactly what she was involved in.

He picked up the phone, got an outside line and dialed. Frank Barnes was a private detective. A good one. Harry was sure he could rely on him for a small favor.

A subdued, resonant voice answered on the other end.

"Frank, Harry Payne here."

"Harry! Where you been hiding?"

"I need a favor."

"Only time you ever call me, you ingrate."

"There's a dame called Paula Ralston. Runs a business called Ralston Personnel Consultants. How soon can you get anything on her?"

"How soon do you need it?"

"Today, if possible. You can call me at home. Any hour."

After promising Frank to meet him for lunch one day Harry sank into an easy chair and tried to shake the unnerving effect the seven men had had on him.

Maybe he shouldn't have called Frank. This might be something he should have informed the army about. No. They'd want to know what business he had seeing the seven men in the first place. He didn't have much of an answer for that one.