"Tomorrow morning, first thing," Pell said, "I'll take a sample of this stuff to Dr. Nebel and see what he can do with it. Of course the lab can keep on working on it in the meantime."
"Don't you think you might do better to get busy on those computers?" Larkin asked.
Pell shook his head. "This hunch is too strong, Chief."
Rysland smiled, and got up. "I'm inclined to put a little stock into this man's hunches. He's done pretty well with them so far. I'd even say he's pretty close to a solution of this thing—possibly."
Larkin shrugged and started to look at the crime charts again.
Rysland held out his hand. "Good night, Mr. Pell. You've encouraged me. Larkin and I are going topside for a little night cap before we turn in. Like to join us?"
"No, thanks," said Pell. "I'm sleepy. I want to get home and hit that sack."
"Very well. Good night again." The two men went toward the door.
Pell watched them quietly. He had lied. He wasn't sleepy at all. He just wanted to get home and sit by that viewer and hope, hope against hope, that it would ring and that Ciel's lovely image would swirl into view....