_You can't be too suspicious when security is at stake. When
everybody who is after a key military job wears a toupee, it is
obviously a bald case of espionage._
A job as laboratory technician with the Army Weapons Development Center
carried about as much prestige as a bat boy in a World Series.
George Fisher was a laboratory technician.
He was a shy but likeable fellow, a diligent worker and trustworthy. He
didn't talk. He was rarely talked to. He had no burning ambition to push
himself ahead in the world. Being an assistant to the brains was good
enough for him. He had a commendable talent for minding his own
business.
In a security job these qualities counted ahead of scientific knowledge.
One day George Fisher turned up dead. The initial shock and concern
experienced by his superiors was soon overcome by the coroner's finding.
Suicide.
Harry Payne was the Civilian Personnel Director of Fort Dickson. It was
his job to find a replacement for George Fisher.
"Miss Conway!" Harry's voice lashed into the intercom.
There was an interminable pause. He cursed under his breath.