Chongo had investigated the matter of the missing girl, Kathryn McConnell. He got an excellent description of the young guy she'd been dating from the other girl, Norma, who worked at the store. Norma wasn't the brightest light in town, but she'd been quite observant of Kathryn's boyfriend, and had exchanged a few words with him now and then when he came to the store. She said he was a Pole. Wally Krupinski. Chongo doubted that. The guy was almost certainly one of the German agents they were looking for. Norma hadn't seen the other guy, the older one, and that was unfortunate, but the Orangutan and at least one other ape had seen him, and their descriptions matched perfectly. He was forty-ish, receding hairline, glasses, average build, kinda looked like an accountant or a smalltime lawyer or loan shark. A sour, kinda serious-looking Roscoe. Not a guy you'd crack too many jokes with. Chongo figured if he ever got close to this guy he could identify him by scent. He'd noted the scent of several individuals in their original hideout.

Drecker was still sifting through the debris over at the exploded warehouse, but hadn't found much. One bright note. The missing truck had been found, sitting apparently abandoned in a parking lot. Chongo got a good look at it and checked it for scent. Sure enough, the same people had been in the back as had been in the hideout near where the dead apes were found buried, and the McConnel girl too, so she had still been alive at that point. And a woman had been driving up front, not a young man! Whoever she was, she wasn't taking any chances being spotted. Must be a real pro. Chongo had noted a faint trace of her perfume, and filed that away for future reference. He'd caught a whiff of the same stuff over at the hideout, but couldn't smell any by the flattened warehouse...too much smell of smoke and burning there.

Drecker figured he had a lead on the guy with the glasses, who must be the one in charge, Chongo figured. It seemed he'd been running a part-time engraving business a while back. His few customers had known him as a Mr "Svenson". That had to be an alias. Someone else remembered one of Svenson's associates...a dutch guy named Van Schelde. That had to be another alias. They described him as an affable fellow with a gift for the gab. There was a third guy, a big guy. He liked to bet on the horses. The pieces were filling in now, bit by bit. And then there was young "Krupinski". He liked to walk, and was in terrific shape.

Only thing was, they seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth since the explosion. That meant they were either lying very low...or they'd left Chicago entirely. But the truck had been abandoned in town. So they'd either changed vehicles or at least one of them was still around.

One thing for sure...these people had a special interest in the Manhattan Project. That meant they would be back. Chongo decided that the best thing to do was to stay close to Stagg Field and keep his eyes open. Sooner or later the bees would come back to the honey, and that's when he'd nab them. Drecker agreed. Stagg Field and the few blocks in its near vicinity was the place to watch.

They got together for a coffee at Lucy's. Drecker was driving the bananamobile again and it stood outside, drawing admiring glances from those passing simians who were in the know.

"So, whaddya think about the McConnel girl?" said Drecker, lighting up his third smoke. "Is she some kind of agent?"

"Naw," said Chongo. "Not a chance. I checked it out every which way. She's just a nice local girl who got drawn in somehow without knowing beans about it. Must've fallen for the young guy hard. Judging by what that ankle Norma says, the kid fell for her at least as hard in return. Norma would have given her eye teeth if he'd fallen for her instead. It ain't hard to see that."

"Yeah," said Drecker. "Only now I bet she's changed her mind. You know what I think? I think the guy with the glasses is the boss. He got scared after we found those bodies, and he beats it over there in a panic, says something he shouldn't of said, and figures he has to take the girl."

Chongo nodded. "Yeah. That's how I figure it too. Then they make a quick move to that warehouse and hunker down. Then they get wise to us closin' in, and they get out fast and try to make it look like they all got blown to smithereens. You find anything at all that can help over there?"

"All we've found is the remains of some bomb and detonator materials and a few half-burned documents that got blown clear of the fire. It's espionage stuff all right. They've been spying on military production lines and other stuff, but there's nothin' that'll help us find them at this point."

"I don't think we hafta find 'em," said Chongo. "They'll come to us. We just watch all around Stagg Field. I'll tell ya somethin' else. I got a whiff of the driver, the woman. If I get close to her, I'll know it. She seems to have a gift for disguise, but you can't fool the old nose."

Drecker smiled. "Regular hound dog, you are."

"Just call me 'Bowzer'," said Chongo.