“Beiderbecke claimed Clyde is smart as a whip. The German Army believes he can. So do the German consuls.”

“I find it hard to believe the kaiser’s army is fighting this hard just for the money.”

“I agree,” said Bell. “They’re not businessmen. They’re soldiers. There’s something more to this.”

Van Dorn nodded vigorously. “Find out what,” he ordered. “Continue to watch developments at the New York consulate. I’ll nose around here in Washington.”

“Why not invite the German ambassador to lunch at the Cosmos Club?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow. But don’t get your hopes up. His Excellency is not likely to be informed of such a vicious operation, particularly if it’s a military scheme.”

“Will you give Art a free hand in Berlin?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Van Dorn growled, reluctantly.

“I’d rather he didn’t waste time clearing each payment through you.”

Van Dorn grimaced. “O.K., dammit. You’re authorized to spend what you need.”

“Don’t worry. Art won’t squander a penny.”

“Just remember that while you’re trying to figure out what the Germans are up to, our valuable young genius is already in their crosshairs. Keep him safe— Where is he right now?”

“Lipsher’s got him.”

“Who’s Lipsher?”

“The PS boy who guarded Block on the ship. Turned out to be a good man in a pinch.” Bell stood up. “If you will clear it with Dagget’s managing director, I’ll continue under my insurance executive guise and spread the word that Dagget, Staples and Hitchcock is investing in Lynds’s invention. That such a staid old firm is interested ought to burnish its appeal.”

“Dagget, Staples and Hitchcock consorting with moving picture people?” Van Dorn laughed. “The founders will be spinning in their graves. But you’re right. Keep us out of it as long as you can. Best to not show our hand till we know who’s across the table.”

“And what he wants,” said Isaac Bell, grabbing his hat and charging out the door.

“Where you headed?”

“Union Station. I’m meeting Clyde in West Orange, New Jersey.”

“Thomas Edison’s laboratory? Hang on to the fillings in your teeth.”

19

ISAAC BELL WAS SURPRISED TWICE UPON ARriving at the red brick building that housed Thomas Edison’s laboratory in West Orange, New Jersey. It had never occurred to him how young Edison’s scientists would be. The laboratories were teeming with nattily dressed bright young fellows like Clyde Lynds. Nor had he expected Edison, with his reputation for hard bargaining, to have such a warm smile. It widened his full mouth engagingly and lighted his deep-set eyes.