"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 272 - King of the Black Market" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"If you mean I certified faulty lacquer," declared Chet, coldly, "I'd
suggest that you reconsider the statement. Nothing leaves my department unless
it tests one hundred percent. But my job is finished when the shipments go to
the loading platform."
That was tossing it right back at the swarthy man. Chet didn't bother
about
noting how Biggs reacted. Instead, he glanced toward Thorneau and saw that the
blunt-faced man still retained his firm smile. Evidently Thorneau approved
Chet's way of meeting an issue squarely. The fact made Chet like Thorneau all
the more.
Unfortunately, Biggs wasn't so impressed. It happened that Biggs was the
one man qualified to settle the present issue. Looking straight at Chet, Biggs
waved his hand toward the swarthy man, and announced:
"Perhaps I should have introduced you, Conroy. This gentleman is Mr.
Marquette. He and the more important members of the loading crew are
operatives
from the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
Chet found himself in a mental whirl. With F.B.I. men on the loading job,
nothing could have happened to the Pyrolac during the loading operation.
Therefore the responsibility lay somewhere in the plant.
But where?


STEP by step, Chet could recall every portion of the tested process,
double-checked to the sealing of the cans. He'd have sworn that there couldn't
be a faulty gallon of Pyrolac in all the loads shipped. Chet shook his head,
quite baffled.
Marquette wasn't baffled.
Lifting the can of Pyrolac, the F.B.I. man held its tilted lid to the
light. Through the metal, Chet could see a pattern of very tiny holes.
"They've been spiked," affirmed Marquette. "Needled is another term for
it.
Needled lacquer, that's what. It reminds me of the way they doctored booze in
the prohibition days. Only this time it isn't done to make the stuff bring a
better price.
"This needle job was meant to ruin these Pyrolac shipments, and it did.
Whatever stuff was injected, it turned the lacquer into a lot of gummy goo.
Those holes were jabbed right through the can lids, then plugged with wax, a
simple smear job. That could have happened in your department, Conroy."
Chet met Marquette's impeachment with a distant stare. His voice, though,
was emphatic:
"It couldn't have -"
"And why not?"
"Because," began Chet, "I check all those containers personally when they
ride past on the belt."
"And then?"
"They go into the shipping room, where they're waxed and stacked, ready
for
removal to the loading platform -"
Chet halted suddenly. He'd stated the very fact that Marquette wanted;