it into his lab budget.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
“He’s not exactly going to hand over his financial records to me, is he. But I hear things. It’s a small community.”
“Like what?”
“Like his interests have diverged. Like he has something big stewing on the back burner.”
“Did you ever ask him directly where the money went?”
Edwards looked into his coffee cup and swirled the liquid around. “I tried, but he referred me to JJ.”
“And what did he say?”
He took on JJ’s nasal tones. For a guy with such a low voice he did a good imitation. I tried not to smile. “‘Madden has reallocated that money to a more fruitful line of inquiry that will be more cost-effective in the long run.’ What a load of crap.”
“And he didn’t tell you what this ‘line of inquiry’ was?”
He shook his head. “But I made some calls. Like I say, it’s a small community, and that’s a lot of money. Somebody would be talking if it had landed in their budget.”
“But why finger Madden? Why not JJ? He has signing authority, and I understand the two of you are not exactly bosom buddies.” Oops. An unfortunate choice of words. Edwards didn’t seem to notice.
“JJ is Riesler’s puppet. The guy hasn’t had an original thought in fifteen years.”
“Maybe he decided to branch out.”
His laugh was derisive. “That’ll be the day.” “Who’s funding the Asia project?”
At that question Edward’s foot twitch took over his whole leg and he had to put a hand on his thigh to slow it down. “The fucking Asia project. I’d like to blow the damn thing up.” He took a swig of his coffee and banged the mug on the counter. “It’s funded privately by a consortium. Fisheries Enterprises International. And I know what you’re thinking, that maybe the Network funds are going there, but I get the impression there’s lots of money.”
Like maybe an extra $200,000 in this year’s budget? I’d have to check out this consortium, get the exact funding figures. Then suddenly, Edwards’s leg stopped moving.
“That’s a good example,” he said, poking the air for emphasis. “That’s tilapia work, right? So why is Madden using the FEI grant to fund Elaine’s research on olfaction?” Then he caught my expression and seemed to reconnect with the fact that I was a government investigator. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want her involved in this… she isn’t involved in this. It’s between Madden and me.”
I was speaking almost to myself. “So Riesler’s funding Elaine’s work. Isn’t that cozy.” Then I looked at Edwards. “How do you know that?”
He panicked. “It’s not related.” “Then there’s no problem, is there. How do you know he’s funding her work?”
He suddenly looked tired and defeated. “I can’t answer that. You’ll have to ask her yourself.”
“Just for the record, I want you to know that Elaine’s an old friend of mine, but that isn’t going to stop me from investigating her. You’re damn right I’m going to ask her myself.”
Suddenly he perked up. “You’re her friend?” He pushed the search results back to me. “Could you show her these? Make her look at them. It’s relevant.”
I could hardly wait for dinner.
Before I left the lab Edwards disappeared down the hall to make a copy of the search results. He’d get back to me tomorrow with any additional information he could glean from the titles. While he was gone I took the opportunity to plug in my laptop and dial into my account. I had thirty-seven e-mails waiting to be read. In the modern world, there is no escape. Most of them covered topics of vital importance, like a going-away party for Marielle and a mandatory day-long course entitled Building Positive Relationships. There was also a missive from the Office of the Director General that had been sent to Bob, who had cc’ed it to all of us. I always read Patsy’s memos. I like to see how many times she can use the word “notwithstanding” on a single page of text. It’s her current favourite, right up there with “linkage” in the New Age government lexicon.
Her e-mail was disappointing. She only used it once: mind you, the whole memo was less than two hundred words long. It said that, notwithstanding previous memos to the contrary, due to cost-cutting measures, no overtime would be approved unless a request was submitted in writing forty-eight hours in advance and was signed off by your supervisor, section head, and the DG. Then there was a little ramble about everyone being responsible for the budget and tightening their belts and blah, blah, blah. I whacked the message.
There was an e-mail from Bob with the subject heading “VERBAL REPORT BY END OF DAY.” I whacked it without even opening it up. As I scrolled down, whacking as I went, I found what I was looking for near the bottom. It was an e-mail from Duncan with the subject heading “The Plot Thickens.” I liked that. I opened it up. It said, “Greetings from the Commissionaire. Keys to Ahmed Assad, Joanne Laframboise, Robert Gregory.” So Bob had been in the building the day the mystery reference search was done. I liked that even better. I decided not to worry too much about a verbal report by the end of the day.
Before shutting down the system I fired off a reply to Duncan thanking him for the good work and letting him know that the search had been charged to Patsy’s code. I also reminded him to follow up on any possible connections between the Council and the Network. Edwards returned with my copy of Connell’s records just as I was logging out.
“If my office calls,” I said, closing the computer, “tell them you haven’t seen me. Better still, tell them you’re thinking of dropping the investigation.” He started to protest, but I cut in. “Trust me. And I’ll talk to Elaine.”
That stopped him. Then he said, fumbling for words, “When you see her could you tell her that… that… just tell her hello, I guess. That if she needs me, I’m here.”
I almost put my hand on his shoulder, but it would have been too intimate for him. I gave a nod instead. “But I think you should know, she’s as stubborn as a mule.”
He smiled, more to himself than to me, and said softly, “I know. That’s what I like about her.”
I was almost out the door when Dinah’s story of the missing fish popped into my head. “You ever heard of anything like that?”
Edwards thought for a moment. “It’s funny. I was talking to a Fisheries officer up the valley just about a week ago. He’d seen the same thing on a creek just outside Harrison. Never seen anything like it before. You want me to give him a call?”
“Yeah, I would. I’m sure Elaine would appreciate it.” That brightened him up. “I’ll see what I can track down and call you when I’ve got something.”
I smiled. With Elaine dangling as the carrot, I didn’t need to worry about Edwards talking to any reporter, so for now, at least, the media threat was gone.
At the door I turned back to take one last look. He sat on his stool in front of the microscope
