Jack Be Quick Ch. 04

The lab was quiet. I could see that not a single line of code was being written. Instead, people were talking in small groups, while others were proofreading their updated resumes. It looked as if everybody was there so I began to shepherd them into the big conference room over beyond George's office.

When they were all gathered, some seated, some standing, all of their eyes turned toward me. There was a small boxlike riser for raising an easel so everybody could see flip charts on it, so I moved the easel out of the way and stepped up there so I could see all the faces. I had no idea what to say to them, but they had no firm expectations so I figured just about anything would be okay. "Guys, this is a critical time for our project. We have suffered a very great loss, but George wouldn't want us to cave in now. This is the time when we have to show that we learned something from his leadership. He's gone, but we're still here. The code won't write itself. It's time for us to roll up our sleeves and work extra hard to produce something that will be a tribute to George.

"There's one thing that will be different. You all know who's working on the segments and modules that interface with your own. Normally we'd each do our own thing, and then George would work the interfaces with us. In his absence, we've got to do that ourselves. So as you go on with your work, keep in touch with each other so the final product will hang together. You can do that. It's simple. When I walked in just now, there were little bunches of you talking together. That's the key to success, talking to each other, working as a team. The best part is that as we get back to work on our project, you'll have something definite to talk about.

"Here's something to keep in the back of your mind: This project will go on. The government needs it more than ever. You can tear up those resumes because you won't need to look for work. There's only one thing that would torpedo this project, and that's if the government decides we're not productive enough and they pull it out of MIT and send it to Cal Tech. If that happens, they'll hire a whole new crew of west coast people and we will be unemployed, maybe even unemployable.

"The way we'll keep our jobs is by being productive!"

Somebody in the back said, "If we've got a question, who do we go to for an answer?"

I forced a smile and answered, "You know you can always come over to my work station and we'll work it out together. Remember, the most comfortable chairs in the whole lab are around my conference table. Anything else?"

"Will we still get paid the same as always?"

You might think the guy who asked that had to be some sort of a moron, but you'd be wrong. He's a genius who had just peeked out from under his own personal rock and had no idea which way the sun comes up. There was a childlike simplicity in the question. He got a paycheck twice a month, and it had always been handed to him by George. He had no concept of a huge government with congressional approval of a budget, or even of the program management office or the MIT payroll accounting department. His paycheck came from George, and George wasn't here any more. I had to take a deep breath to keep from laughing out loud. "I'm glad you asked. When the paycheck envelopes come over from the front office, I'll hand them out personally to make sure you get the one with your name on it. Okay, let's all go and get busy, to preserve our national security, preserve George's memory, and preserve our jobs!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Jerry called me around six from Reed's Rides, the auto shop that the bureau had a contract with in the Boston area. "Red's up to his armpits in the stolen car. You wouldn't believe the things he's discovered. We'll break it off in a couple of hours. How about having supper with us at the Green Goose at nine?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll bring Trudy."

"Okay, but why?"

"Because while you and Red and I are focusing on flyspecks, Trudy maintains a world view. We risk missing something important, while she can sometimes see where detail guys like us have overlooked it. She's too important a resource to ignore at a time like this."

"Makes sense to me."

"One other thing. The Utica exercise was a threat to her life, just as much as mine. She's paid her admission."

We got to the Goose before Jerry and Red, and in the back of the dining room I shoved two tables together. I had brought my trusty clipboard and extra pens and paper. Trudy set her laptop up and got connected to Roger's wi-fi, just in case it would be needed. I wasn't surprised to see Glenn and Jim Mangrum walk in, right at nine. Roger walked over behind them. "Jerry called. I'm going to close up at nine thirty, meaning I'll turn off the sign and lock the door. But I'll be here, and I'll keep the coffee coming as long as you guys want to stay. I understand the bind you're in, and I'm glad to do whatever I can for to help. Take your time figuring out what you want to eat. Tonight's on me."

Jerry and Red walked in at ten after nine. Jerry looked the same as usual, while Red was clearly tired but excited. Jerry walked over behind me and gave my shoulders a big squeeze. "You were right, Jack." That seemed cryptic, and nobody spoke, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He walked over to the kitchen, looking all around, and spoke with Roger. Then he came back, sat down, and smiled broadly. "I'll lay two facts before you all. One, Red's a genius. Two, we've been looking at the wrong car."

"All right," said Glenn. "Now it's my turn to lay out two facts. One, George's vacancy has been filled. Meet the new lab supervisor, Jim Mangrum. Two, we now have a new position, reporting to Jim. Meet Jack Allen, our new programming coordinator. Oh, that's if you accept the promotion, Jack." I couldn't answer because Trudy had me smothered with a big kiss.

When the high fives and backslapping had died down, Glenn suggested that we order. Roger came over and we introduced Jim and explained what was going on. Jerry asked Roger what he'd recommend. Glenn jumped into the conversation with, "Roger, why don't you fix us something good. We're all too tired and worked up to make decisions right now." Everybody agreed and Roger went off to be creative.

Jerry looked around and saw that we were primed for some details. "Red went over the Dodge, looking at everything without taking anything apart. Then he did the same thing to George's Chevy. When he started to scrape off paint samples, I knew he had some kind of an idea, but he wouldn't tell me anything until after he had looked at them under a microscope. Tell 'em, Red."

"The Chevy is black. I went down to the bare metal. The steel had a protective coating, zinc with some additives. Then came the primer, which was a medium gray. It was hard to tell the primer from the zinc coating at first. Then came the body paint, black as I said. Once I had that all figured out from looking at undamaged places, I concentrated on two areas where the body had been scraped hard by the other car. That's where the truth started to come out. The Monte Carlo had been sideswiped hard by something painted blue, and the FBI lab guys figured out that it was a Ford F Series truck, painted with Ford's blue enamel, not over five years old. Over the top of the blue paint there was a lot of red, which was from the stolen Dodge sedan.

"Right now the state police and FBI are going over the tire tracks in the dirt and other things at the crash scene to get a handle on what really happened, not what somebody wanted us to think happened. The way it looks is that George's car was run off the road into that tree by a truck, maybe with four wheel drive. The weight of the truck made it impossible for George to fight it off him, and that's why he got killed. Then the truck was backed out carefully along the tracks its wheels had made going in, and the Dodge was brought in and swiped along the side of George's Monte Carlo, then run on past the tree and abandoned. Now that scenario is partly speculation until additional evidence can be collected, but with the small army of detectives and technicians looking around out there right now, if there's anything there I'm sure they'll find it."

This time it was Red's turn to get a kiss from Trudy.

Jerry broke in to ask, "All right. Now for the important stuff. What's this business about Red being your uncle, Trudy?"

That broke the tension, and Trudy told the story, including the driving lessons at age twelve and all the other ways that her indulgent neighbor had pampered her. She finished up with, "Every little girl needs to have an Uncle Red living next door." Then she turned to Jerry and asked, "So now is Jack out of the FBI's doghouse?"

"Big time. I put in my report that Jack suggested that we call in Red to consult, and I directed him to go ahead and make the call. So no weenie accountant can give him a harsh word or even a dirty look. My boss knows that Jack took the bull by the horns, and he told me off very thoroughly for needing a kid to do my thinking for me. He's very glad that Jack stepped in, and he's of the opinion that I deserved the scolding I got from Jack. Just as Jack told Red over the phone, Gregory Bates will pick up Red's tab."