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"Maybe why the bridge failed," Pitt replied.
A man with a hard hat held up a portable loudspeaker and shouted over the noise of the crane's diesel engine: "Mr. Pitt, you're wanted on the phone."
Pitt excused himself and entered the barge's command office. The call was from Moon. "Any news?"
"None," Pitt answered.
There was a pause. "The President must have the treaty copy by Monday." Pitt was stunned. "That's only five days away."
"If you come up empty-handed by one o'clock in the afternoon on Monday, all search activities will be canceled."
Pitt's lips pressed together. "Dammit, Moon! You can't set impossible deadlines on a project like this."
"I'm sorry, that's the way it is."
"Why such short notice?"
"I can only tell you that the urgency is critical."
The knuckles of Pitt's hand clenched around the receiver turned ivory. He could think of nothing to say.
"Are you still there?" queried Moon.
"Yes, I'm here."
"The President is anxious to hear of your progress."
"What progress?"
"You'll have to do better than that," Moon said testily.
"Everything hangs on whether we come across the train and the coach Essex was riding in."
"Care to give me an estimate?"
"There's an old saying among archaeologists," said Pitt. "Nothing is found until it wants to be found."
"I'm sure the President would prefer a more optimistic report. What should I tell him the chances are of having the treaty in his hands by Monday?"
"Tell the President," said Pitt, his voice like ice, "he doesn't have a prayer."
Pitt reached the Heiser Foundation analytic labs in Brooklyn at midnight. He backed the pickup truck against a loading dock and switched off the ignition. Dr. Walter McComb, the chief chemist, and two of his assistants were there, waiting for him. Pitt said, "I appreciate your staying up so late."
McComb, fifteen years older than Pitt and about seventy pounds heavier, hoisted one of the heavy bridge fragments without a grunt and shrugged. "I've never had a request from the White House before.
How could I refuse?"
The four of them manhandled the steel scrap into a corner of a small warehouse. There the lab people used electric saws with moly steel blades to cut off samples which were soaked in a solution and cleaned by acoustics. Then they filtered away to different laboratories to begin their respective analytic specialities.
It was four in the morning when McComb conferred with his assistants and approached Pitt in the employees' lounge. "I.think we have something interesting for you," he said, grinning.
"How interesting?" Pitt asked.
"We've solved the mystery behind the DeauvilleHudson bridge collapse." McComb motioned for Pitt to follow him into a room crammed with exotic-looking chemistry equipment. He handed Pitt a large magnifying glass and pointed at two objects on the table. "See for yourself."
Pitt did as he was told and looked up questioningly. "What am I looking for?"
"Metal that separates under heavy stress leaves fracture lines. They're obvious in the sample on the left."
