“Oh, we’ve got him spotted, sir,” the sergeant said. “He’s been there for six days now.”
“Well, then,” the general said, “why don’t you blast him out of there?”
“Well, sir, it’s this way,” the sergeant explained. “He’s fired about sixty rounds since he’s been out there, and he hasn’t hit anything yet. We’re afraid if we get rid of him they’ll put up somebody who can shoot.”
This was standard FBI policy when dealing with minor spies. A great many had been spotted, including four in the Department of Fisheries. But known spies are easier to keep track of than unknown ones. And, as long as they’re allowed to think they haven’t been spotted, they may lead the way to other spies or spy networks.
“I thought it was worth the risk,” Boyd said. “After all, if they have something to do with the case—”
“But they don’t,” Malone said.
“Damn it,” Boyd exploded, “let me find out for myself, will you? You’re spoiling all the fun.”
“Well, anyhow,” Malone said, “they don’t.”
“You can’t afford to take any chances,” Boyd said. “After all, when I think about William Logan, I tell myself we’d better take care of every lead.”
“Well,” Malone said finally, “you may be right. And then again, you may be normally wrong.”