IN THE MORNING Nessheim was at Stagg Field by nine, where he found four soldiers with M1 carbines guarding the main gate, and inside, three MPs rather than one behind the desk. Fermi was in the court, with a lab coat over his suit, pacing around with a pad of paper and pencil in his hand. Szilard was talking to him, and behind them Anderson and two colleagues had started pulling out the long cadmium rods from the Pile, which was now over twenty feet high, nearly reaching the ceiling of the court. It was enormous, almost as wide as it was high. Zinn had told him it held over 40,000 graphite blocks. From the counters on the balcony Nessheim could hear a steady pattern of clickety-clicks, indicating that the neutrons were escaping. He sensed the tension building in the room.
When Fermi saw Nessheim he came over right away and shook his hand. ‘I give you deepest condolences,’ he said gravely.
‘Thank you. Good luck today. I am sorry I won’t be here to witness it.’
Szilard had joined them and overheard the last remark. ‘Be careful what you wish for. I fear that in the years ahead, you may have cause to be grateful for your absence. It is a momentous day, but not necessarily one we will all be proud of.’
‘We have no choice,’ Fermi said simply, and Szilard shrugged in weary acknowledgement that this was true. Nessheim said goodbye and was heading towards the main gate when Guttman came in, tie slightly askew and one of his shoes scuffed. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Guttman said, looking worried.
‘I’m leaving now. I’m not due on the North Side for an hour.’
‘I’ll call Palborg in a little while so you can sleep in your own bed tonight. I forgot to mention – some woman showed up yesterday to clean the place.’
Drusilla. He hoped she hadn’t learned about Stacey from the doorman. He said, ‘I’ll try and get back as soon as I can.’
‘Do what you got to do. Stacey had a mother, right?’
‘You could say that.’ He didn’t want to explain. ‘Where is Kalvin now?’
‘Under house arrest. I called Groves last night after I got back to your apartment. He’s been travelling so this was the first opportunity I had to tell him. He went through the roof. It doesn’t make his intelligence people look very good.’
‘They’re not very good.’
‘There’s now a soldier with an M1 on the seventh floor of the Cloisters, standing guard over Kalvin’s front door. Another one’s on the fire escape in case Kalvin gets any ideas. The phone has been cut off, and he won’t be getting any mail today. There’s also half a platoon of MPs on the ground floor, to keep Kalvin from escaping in case he manages to slip a Mickey Finn to the soldier by his door.’
‘Holy smokes,’ said Nessheim, but he was relieved by this news. His task today would be much easier now – if he was right about the entry in Kalvin’s diary.
‘You’d better get going,’ Guttman said, adding a little awkwardly, ‘I hope it’s okay.’
‘Thanks, Harry,’ said Nessheim gravely. Don’t overdo it, he told himself, feeling duplicitous when he saw that Guttman was moved. Nessheim had scores to settle, and he was intent on burying his emotions for now. He would have the rest of his life to grieve.