Budnick lowered his head, studying the gravelled road in a concentrated attempt at remembering.
He shook his head slowly. Then his memory stirred. "Yes, I remember. A day or so before the accident he had a visitor. Some geologist, I believe; that reminds me, too: that night in the lab the Doctor had one of those boxes mineral samples are kept in. It was very heavy, as if it was solid lead."
Excited now, I shot my questions in rapid fire.
"Do you know the geologist's name?... Would you remember it if you heard it again?... Good.... Can you get the day off?... Then go back home and start remembering that man's name for all your life's worth. Get a telephone directory. Go through it. Try anything but recall that name."
2
I left Budnick a little dazed by my emphatic manner and whipped over to the headquarters of the atomic labs. There I checked on back visitor's lists but evidently the Doctor's geologist friend hadn't visited him on the job. I dropped in at the telegraph office and wired Armstrong in Washington for a list of Chetzisky's acquaintances, the names of the members of the National Academy of Sciences, Association for the Advancement of Sciences, the Geological Society, the OSRD.
Then I went back to Budnick and began a mental third degree, using a rhyming dictionary, a genealogical compendium and the collection lists from an old church bulletin. Hour after hour I kept it up. Others had seen the Doctor's visitor, but only Budnick knew the name. It was the only clue I had to go on.
After eight solid hours, broken only by coffee and sandwich snacks, Budnick was begging me to call off the grilling. "Give me a break. Let me get a little sleep." He clutched his head as if he were trying to keep it from flying apart. His eyes were swollen and red.
"All right," I said; Budnick was at his limit. Besides, I had to wait for Armstrong's reply to my telegram.