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But I'd ask you not to tell anybody what it means.'
Isaac Newton nodded and asked:
'Are all the disks here?'
When Mike Howarth nodded in turn, Isaac Newton went on:
'I have to go to Geneva later this week. I'll take them with me and get it started. I'm still tying
up loose ends at CERN, so I'll be making quite a few trips there. I'll make certain the job is
done in good time. Sort out the right disks, label them carefully, and I'll lock them away in the
desk here.'
Isaac Newton was sensitive to Mike Howarth's reluctance to part with his data, but he was
unprepared for Howarth's reply.
'I'd rather not leave the disks here, if you don't mind. I'll keep them and bring them if you tell
me when you expect to be leaving for Switzerland.'
'Don't you have copies?'
'Yes, but it isn't that.'
'Are you worried they wouldn't be safe?'
'They wouldn't. This office has been used by all sorts of people over the past eighteen
months. I've no idea how many people might have keys to your desk.'
Curious at what he took to be Howarth's paranoid state of mind,
Isaac Newton leant forward in his chair.
'But why, then, do you leave them in the Laboratory at all?'
'I don't. I wouldn't dream of it. I brought my material in specially to show you.'
'I don't understand why anybody would want to steal them.'
'Ah!' cried Mike Howarth. 'That's because you think it's all a lot of nonsense, because you're
humouring me. But if you once admit that I'm right, then you can see why plenty of people
would want to steal the disks. People at CERC for one thing. Civil servants never like
leaving the evidence around, do they? Sensitive matters are dealt with over the telephone,
not by letter, aren't they? Then, when the disaster happens, there's nothing definite on paper,
except perhaps a few ambiguous sentences which were understood to mean something,
but which don't when you look at them carefully. I'm sure you know it all better than I can tell
you.'
'I suppose it would be awkward for them, if you do turn out to be right, I mean,' laughed Isaac
Newton. 'I hope it comes out that way, but we'll see. What I can't see is how CERC could
contrive to burgle the Cavendish Laboratory.'
'They wouldn't. It would be done from inside, of course. I said before there's lots of people
wanting to curry favour with CERC.'
'Is there no one here you trust, then?'
'Well, I'm trusting you, and there are others of course. Frances Haroldsen for one.'
Isaac Newton felt a sudden lurch back to his conversation with Boulton and with the Dragon,
realising that the technicalities of his discussion with Howarth had momentarily calmed his
suspicion that the financial stringencies of the past thirteen years had somehow pushed the
University into a state of mass insanity. Determined to have no more nonsense, he said
sharply:
'I suppose you have a bank account?'
'Yes, of course.'
'Where?'
'Barclays.'
'Which branch?'
'The main branch at Bene't Street. But why?' Because we're going down there right now to
see the manager, and you're going to ask him to put these disks in his safe. And
furthermore, you're going to tell the manager that the only person who is to be allowed to
take the disks away is myself. Is that clear? Otherwise you can forget the whole thing.'
Chapter 7
Isaac Newton hadn't been long returned from his visit to Barclays Bank when the Dragon
appeared in the doorway, and as if discharging an arrow into his office, announced:
'The Geister has arrived!'
A small man with spectacles and a rather large head came in, saying, 'Professor Newton,
we haven't met before. I am John Jocelyn Scuby, Secretary of the Faculties.'
By long-standing tradition a capacious black leather armchair was strictly reserved for the
Professor's special visitors. Jocelyn Scuby sank into the armchair with a momentary sigh of
pleasure. Then instantly he hitched himself awkwardly to the edge of the chair, as if its soft
comfort had made him suddenly uncomfortable.
'I must explain,' Scuby began in a hushed, almost breathless voice, 'that in happier days the
General Board left individual departments to make up their own accounts.'
The one thing that was not straightforward in this statement was that Scuby, like many
people in Cambridge, pronounced 'General Board' as if the vowel 'o' in Board were absent,
an oddity which had Isaac Newton momentarily confused.
'The accounts were, of course, scrutinised by the University's auditors, but frankly speaking
and without any explicit criticism intended, that was never a very satisfactory procedure,'
Scuby continued.
'I know what you mean. When is an auditor not an auditor, and that sort of thing.'
'Exactly so. I'm glad you understand what I mean -with a minimum of explanation on my part.
The matter, when it reached the Discussion stage, took up a great deal of the General
Board's time.'
'I can imagine it would.'
'Well now, the upshot was that I myself make the rounds of the departments. Before the
accounts are made up, that is to say. I do this partly to verify that everything is in good order,
and I also find it possible to make suggestions as to where little economies might be made.
I hope you understand all this too, Professor Newton.'
'As a matter of precise fact, I understand it very well,' replied Isaac Newton. 'You see, Mr
Scuby, my first administrative experience at CERN - that's the Conseil Europeen pour la
Recherche Nucleaire -1 don't like acronyms myself, but otherwise it's rather a mouthful-
came
when I was put on the laboratory's committee for small items, the Conseil pour quelque
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