paid for by Riesler, if Elaine had any sense at all (which was open to debate) she would side with him in departmental disputes.
“Do you know Jonathan Edwards?”
She made a silent “Oh” with her lips and shook her head, as if I’d asked a naughty question.
“Ah huh?” I said, and waited.
There was a pause, then: “He’s gone to Natural Resources. Around here that’s considered a demotion. It’s like the more applied the work the less important it must be. And nobody’s really saying why he left.” Then she leaned closer to me and lowered her voice. “But if you’re going to see Dr. Edwards don’t let the boss lady know. She’ll have a fit.”
That was hard to believe, even for Elaine. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shook her head. “The way she acts, you’d think he broke up with her, when she’s the one who called it off.”
My eyes almost popped out of my head. “They were lovers?”
Dinah brought her hand up to her mouth. “Oh God, you didn’t know. Don’t tell her I —”
And just at that moment, the boss lady walked in the door.
The conversation stopped dead. Dinah busied herself examining the floor. I glared at Elaine, but being Elaine she was oblivious.
“Oh good, you’ve met,” was all she said, then she came around behind me and perched herself on the far side of the desk. She had pinioned Dinah with her eyes.
“You know what’s going on with Cindy’s project?” Dinah didn’t look up, kept her eyes on the floor. “More or less,” she mumbled.
“What the hell does that mean, more or less. Can you, or can’t you, do the work on your own?”
Dinah had regained some of her composure and sat up straight, returning Elaine’s gaze. She was almost as tall sitting as Elaine was standing up.
“I can figure it out by tomorrow, but I’ll need a second person on the net.”
“Tomorrow?” Elaine hopped off the desk and crossed the room. She examined a complicated-looking chart stuck to the wall, then she turned back to Dinah. “You don’t have a field run tomorrow. You don’t have another one until Thursday.”
I heard Dinah take a deep breath, as if bracing herself, but when her voice came out it was firm and strong. “There’ve been a few problems.”
Elaine didn’t move a muscle, just bore into Dinah with her eyes. When she finally spoke her voice was flat and deadly. “What kind of problems?”
“Back off Elaine.” That was me. “It’s not her fault that Cindy left.”
Elaine shot me a nasty look, but turned back to Dinah as she started to explain.
“The return to Weaver Creek is way down. The numbers seem to fluctuate wildly. For a couple of days they’re okay, then nothing. No fish returning at all. Some days we can’t even work. There aren’t enough fish. Cindy scheduled some extra runs to make up the days we lost. It should be okay.”
Elaine was now the picture of controlled rage: glassy eyes, tight jaw, and a mask-like expression. “Why wasn’t I told?”
Dinah cleared her throat and allowed her glance to slide sideways. “Cindy wanted to be sure that it wasn’t an artifact. That it was real.”
I spoke up. “It’s not part of the normal population cycle?”
Dinah shook her head. “We looked at the return rates for the past thirty years. There’s nothing like this in the records.”
“Terrific.” Elaine pushed herself off the wall. “Just what I need right now. And what does Cindy think is going on?”
Dinah shrugged slightly. “Somebody dumping toxic waste at night? That’s the most likely explanation, but there’s no big fish kill downstream. It could be poaching, someone stringing a net across the stream and taking everything that’s coming up. Cindy was going to take some samples yesterday, but I don’t know where she got with it.”
“So we’re going to lose the field season,” said Elaine. “Not all of it.” Dinah’s voice was hopeful. “I can complete the runs if we can find someone to help me.”
“I can help out,” I said, looking at Elaine.
“What’s the point,” she snapped. “If something’s disrupting the population and we don’t know what it is any data we collect is absolutely useless. That goes for all the olfaction work too. Dinah, pull all the runs done on Weaver Creek fish.”
I kept my voice low and non-confrontational. “One step at a time, Elaine. Let Dinah and me complete the runs and see if we can figure out what’s going on. Worry about the big picture later.”
Elaine’s breathing was audible. She looked like a bull preparing to charge. Finally she said, “Damn it,” and banged her fist against the wall. Then she looked at me. “It seems you’ve come on the perfect week. We might be needing an investigator after all.” Then she addressed Dinah. “Notify the Department of Fisheries and Oceans and the Salmon Commission. See if anyone knows what’s going on. And when you go up tomorrow bring me back samples on dry ice; brains, livers, and a couple of whole fish. We’ll check for parasites and toxins. And let Madden know. It may affect his work too.” She started to move toward the door. “And this time,” she stopped at Dinah’s chair and gave her a sharp poke in the shoulder, “keep me informed.” Then she stormed out the door.
Neither Dinah nor I dared to breathe until we heard the lab door slam shut. When I was sure Elaine had gone I turned to Dinah. “She’s under a lot of pressure right now. It’s no excuse, but we’ve got to cut her a little slack.”
“Yeah, well…” Dinah didn’t sound convinced. “Anyway, thanks for the defence back there.”
She rose slowly from her chair as if she didn’t quite know what to do next. Then she looked at me. “What did she mean by investigator anyway?”
“An in-joke. Not very funny in the circumstances.” She nodded absently, then picked up her chair. “Goddamned Cindy,” she muttered, and left the office. A minute later I heard her leave the lab.
I waited a second, listening, then hit the redial button on the phone.
“Hi babe,” came Sylvia’s husky voice. “Changed your mind about lunch?”
“I need another search. And I need the printout and articles by four today. Comprehensive. The last five years.”
I could hear her typing in the background. “Shoot.” I paused. “Dr. Elaine Okada.”
The typing stopped, and there was silence on the other end of the line. I thought Sylvia might refuse, but then I heard the typing resume. Her only comment was, “She’ll kill you,” and that I already knew.
Graham wasn’t in the lab when I arrived. The ratfish were. Or at least what remained. They lay sliced open, pinned back, and hacked apart in
