couldn’t have cared less what was on the paper, but despite this, after a few minutes of seemingly intense concentration, I looked up and smiled. “This is great,” I said. “Exactly what I need.” Then I went back to reading. I could hear the squeak of his chair as he shifted uneasily. When I was finished my performance I pushed the paper back across the desk.
“Excellent. That helps a lot. Now what about procedures? Is there a lot of red tape? Ten signatures needed for every purchase?”
He shook his head. “Just me. I’m it. And I make sure things run smoothly. You can bet on that.”
I looked surprised. “You have signing authority?” He sat up straighter and nodded. “I’m the signing officer for Network funds.”
“But Madden must oversee the expenditures. He must monitor their distribution.”
That statement got under his skin. “Why the hell should he? I’ve got a Ph.D., for Christ’s sake. I don’t need Madden to tell me what to do and he knows it, so he leaves me alone. And why should a top researcher like him be wasting time on administration? If you come to the Network,” he poked himself in the chest with his thumb, “I’m in charge.”
This was getting interesting, and I suddenly wondered how Connell and JJ squared up together. “So what about Graham Connell? Does he have signing authority too?”
At the sound of Connell’s name the chair banged to the floor again and JJ’s face went sour. “Connell? I wouldn’t let that little parasite sign for a test tube.”
“I’ve heard he’s brilliant.”
“Who told you that? Graham? He’s —” Just then someone appeared at the door, and JJ directed his erratic gaze to the new visitor. “What?” He barked.
The man at the door looked like a graduate student, maybe a post-doc. He didn’t seem either surprised or put off by JJ’s manners.
“Sorry. Didn’t see you were with someone.” He motioned to the computer. “Better check out GeneMed. It’s taking a dive.” Then he turned and walked away.
“Oh shit,” said JJ. He whipped around to his computer monitor and rattled the mouse. The screen saver opened up to his internet browser sitting on the Stockwatch site. I could tell that he’d momentarily forgotten I was there. He typed in a symbol and when the graph came up I could see a nice sharp peak heading abruptly downhill. “God damn it,” he said, and banged the table with his hand. “God damn it!”
I cleared my throat. He turned on me and quickly brought himself under control.
“Day trader?” I said.
“Just a hobby,” he answered, but he looked pretty rattled. “Look, I’ve really got things to do.”
Yeah, I thought, like unload some bad stock before it plummets even more. However, since our meeting had been so productive I thought I might as well try one more question.
“There is one last thing.” I said, slowly getting out of the chair. “I heard a rumour a while ago about a guy who was promised Network money and never saw a penny. Is it true?”
JJ’s face froze momentarily. Even his eyes stopped moving, then he quickly recovered. “Who told you that? That’s crap. I’ll tell you what that’s all about. The Network has very high standards. This isn’t some two-bit Canadian project run out of Ottawa. We’re working with the best in the world: Americans, Japanese, Russians. If a researcher who applies isn’t working to that kind of standard they don’t get in and some of them get pissed off. I’d take a good hard look at who started that rumour and why. I bet you’re going to find some second-class jerk who’s whining because he…” then he said with emphasis, “or she, didn’t cut it.”
“So you haven’t received any formal complaints?”
He turned from me back to his computer screen, effectively ending the conversation. “You’d have to ask Madden,” he mumbled. “He’d be in charge of that.”
chapter eleven
I walked slowly up to Madden’s office, running over what I’d discovered. For one thing, I now knew that the Network financial files were located in JJ’s office. That gave me a goal for this evening. It was also clear that JJ was a glowing candidate for embezzler of the year. Day trading in biotechnology stocks was as risky as running the ponies. You could lose a lot of money in a very short time. With signing authority on Network funds JJ would have no problem investing —and losing — a few hundred thousand that didn’t belong to him. I’d have to ask around, see what rumours were circulating on his private life and finances. Dinah would be a good source there, and JJ’s ex-wife might also be very forthcoming on personal details, especially if the final divorce settlement was as acrimonious as I imagined it might be.
But, while it was tempting to slot JJ into the role of the villain, I still felt uneasy. For one thing, Riesler wasn’t what I had expected, so was my preconceived picture of him completely wrong, or was he acting out an elaborate charade? And then there was Graham. How did he fit into this? Was he part of my case or the proverbial red herring? And then, of course, there was still Edwards, the disgruntled junior professor. Before I could make any real progress I’d have to interview him.
By this time I’d reached the top floor. I pulled open the vestibule door just as Riesler came barrelling through.
“Oh. Good,” he said when he saw me. He was wearing a grey tweed sports jacket over his denim shirt and had car keys in his hand. He spoke with the urgency of someone in a big hurry. “I just called down to JJ. He said you were on your way here.” He put his hand on my arm. “I’m terribly sorry, but something urgent has just come up and I can’t make lunch today.”
“Not a personal emergency, I hope,” I said sympathetically.
He shook his head. He’d moved around me and had one foot already on the stairs. “Nothing like that, but urgent nonetheless. I’d still like to get together. How about dinner tomorrow?” He was backing down the stairs.
“Dinner would be fine.”
“Good. Then I’ll find you tomorrow. We can firm up details then, and again, terribly sorry.” Then he turned and disappeared down the stairs.
The truth is I was just as happy to be on my own. I was beginning to feel both cranky and jet-lagged. I needed a burger, a nap, and a run — in that order — before I could process any more information. I headed back down the stairs, picked up my coat and briefcase in Elaine’s lab, and left the building. I’d be back soon enough. I had a busy night ahead of me.
The day had broken into brilliant sunshine, and unlike the east, where the maples blazed in colour, the trees here were just beginning to show a hint of red on the tips of their outermost leaves. I trudged up the hill to my car, contemplating the case as I saw it so far. There were so many disparate threads it was hard to know which ones, if any, were connected. This was not what I had planned for my three-day, quick-and-dirty case in Vancouver.
The parking lot was packed, a sea of brightly coloured car roofs glistening in the afternoon sun. I threw my briefcase in the back seat and took the main gates out of Southern. I kept my eyes peeled for a burger place, but quickly realized that the area was too trendy for such vulgar commerce, and by the time I’d hit 12th Avenue I was back on automatic
