"Mack Reynolds - Day After Tomorrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

"That is exactly what we would like to know," the Boss said.

Larry stared at his superior, blinked and then examined the bills again.
"A beautiful job," he said. "But what's it got to do with us, sir?
Counterfeiting is Secret Service jurisdiction."

"They called us in on it. They think it might have international
ramifications."

Now they were getting somewhere. Larry Woolford put the two bills
back on the Boss' desk and leaned back in his chair, waiting.

His superior said, "Remember the Nazis turning out American and
British banknotes during the Second War?"

"Before my time, of course, but I've read about it, somewhere or other."

"At any rate, obviously a government with all its resources could
perfectly counterfeit any currency in the world. It would have the skills,
the equipment, the funds to accomplish the task. The Germans turned out
hundreds of millions of dollars and pounds with the idea of confounding
the Allied financial base. They also used it to pay off some of their spies."
The bureau head grunted a laugh. "That was a dirty trick."

"And why didn't it work—the upsetting of the Allied financial base?"

The other nodded. "The difficulty of getting it into circulation, for one
thing. However, they did actually use a quantity. For a time our people
were so alarmed that they wouldn't allow any bills to come into this
country from Mexico except the two dollar bills—the one denomination
the Germans hadn't bothered to duplicate. Oh, they had the Secret Service
in a dither for a time."

Woolford was frowning. "What's this got to do with our current
situation, sir?"

The Boss said, "It is only a conjecture. One of those bills is counterfeit,
but such an excellent reproduction that the skill involved is beyond the
resources of any known counterfeiters. The Secret Service wishes to know
if it might be coming from abroad, and, if so, from where. If it's a
government project, particularly a Soviet Complex one, then it comes into
the ken of our own particular cloak-and-dagger department."

"Yes, sir," Woolford said. He got up and examined the two bills again.
"How'd they ever detect that one was bad? It's not my field, but I'd accept
either one.

"Partly luck," his superior told him. "A bank clerk on a computer was
going through a batch of fifties. It's not too commonly used a