Fellow Travelers

by Thomas Mallon

Outside in Room M304, Fuller was confronted with the sight of Scott McLeod himself, talking to whatever subordinate he’d brought along. Picking up his suit jacket, Fuller wondered if he himself might not be a bigger fish than he’d imagined. He nodded to the security chief, whose plump pink complexion and translucent eyeglass frames nodded back, before McLeod hastened himself and his underling into the room Fuller had just exited. McLeod’s chief patron, Senator Styles Bridges of New Hampshire, had once, around 1940, during Fuller’s time at St. Paul’s, given a speech to the students. Buttoning his jacket, Fuller could now recall its title, printed on the program passed out in the chapel: “How to Be a Man.” Alone in Room M304, he took his time, combing his hair and shooting his cuffs. He thought of Tim clutching the pair of links an hour or so ago—and then he heard conversation begin to filter through the cheap wartime-construction door separating Room M304 from Room M305. He walked back and put his ear to it. “Clean?” asked an agitated voice he realized must be McLeod’s. “As a whistle,” answered Traband.