slip away. “I’d like that,” she said quietly. “I’d like that a lot.”
The rest of the meal was depressingly unproductive. I was starting to numb out with fatigue, making it difficult for me to keep all my thoughts on track. Dinah was slowing down as well, the result of way too much sangria. She was going to be sorry tomorrow morning. On the other hand, she was under twenty-five. At that age a healthy body can take a hell of a lot of abuse.
I did manage to ask her about Graham. “An arrogant little prick,” were her exact words, but she seemed to have no suspicions that he might be involved in anything unsavoury or illegal. JJ, she confirmed, was constantly short of money and always on the verge of getting rich, or so he bragged to the technicians. On the topic of Edwards she was strangely positive, given her negative opinion of everyone else in the department. I waited until the end of dinner to broach the subject and tried to come at it obliquely.
“I’ve known Elaine forever,” I said as we were getting up to leave. “I’m curious about Edwards.”
“I like Jonathan,” she said defensively. “I think Elaine screwed up.”
I was surprised to hear her echo my thoughts completely. “So what happened?”
Dinah was ahead of me and she pushed open the door into the cold night air. “All I know is that one day Elaine came into the lab really upset. She asked if Edwards ever came in when she wasn’t around. I knew they were going out together, but what a weird question. Of course he wouldn’t be around if she wasn’t there. Why would he be in our lab? Then she tells me to keep him out of the lab and call her if I ever see him hanging around. Next thing I hear she’s split with him and he’s moved to Natural Resources. I guess he didn’t want to have to face her every day.”
Dinah’s story squared up nicely with what I knew so far. I was pretty sure that Edwards didn’t move by choice, and I now knew who and what to ask to discover the truth.
By the time I got Dinah home it was almost eleven. She lived near the restaurant on the top floor of an old Kitsilano house. As we pulled up something caught my eye.
“Is that van always parked there?”
She looked across the street. A silver van, with Department of Zoology stencilled on the side, was sitting down the street just at the top of a rise.
“Never. I’m the only one who parks one of those on this street.”
I was sure I’d seen movement inside, but with no lights it was hard to say. I thought of JJ. “Go.” It was given as an order, not a request. “I’ll wait here until you’re in. Lock the door behind you, turn on all the lights, and check your closets. When you’re done, come out on the balcony and wave goodbye.”
She laughed. “Like what are you going to do? Protect me?”
I turned and shot her a look that sent her vaulting up the stairs and through the door before I could turn back to the van. When I’d seen her wave from the balcony I pulled out slowly from my spot, passed the van, and turned right at the first cross street. Just around the corner I glanced back to see the van pull out too. Of course, on the narrow Kitsilano streets he couldn’t turn around: obviously an amateur. Five blocks later I’d lost him.
I drove for several more blocks, keeping my eyes on the rearview mirror and side streets, and when I was sure he was off my tail I headed uphill toward King Edward, a main artery that runs up the spine of the point. Once there, I turned off into a cozy neighbourhood of perfect wooden houses on small, manicured lawns. I moved slowly along until I found the number I wanted.
The street was dark and the sidewalks deserted. The wind had come up and the maples lining the street shook and swayed, their restless leaves making the light from the street lamps scurry about on the pavement. I got out of my car, locked the door behind me, and crossed to the house.
The lights on the first floor were off, but the second floor was lit. A set of stairs ran up the side of the house, and I took them two at a time. They ended in a small landing and a hunter green door with a window that looked across a neat little kitchen. I banged on the door, not loud enough to wake the elderly couple who owned the place, but loud enough to get their upstairs tenant off the couch and to the door.
Except that nobody heeded the call. I frowned and tried again. Then I noticed the boxes. Elaine must have removed the important files from her office after this morning’s break-in. I tried knocking one more time, then I slipped on my gloves, pulled out my lock picks, and let myself in the door.
I worked quickly, with the light out and my flashlight on. I went through the boxes, pulling out any files that related to Elaine’s current olfaction work and scanning them. Mostly it was data, test solution numbers, single cell recording data, Y-maze results, not anything I could use. Then I hit the big one: a research proposal, submitted to Madden Riesler, for a joint study on salmon olfaction.
“Yes!” I said, and I stood up with the file open in my hand.
“Find something you like?”
I turned.
Elaine was standing in the doorway.
chapter fourteen
“Arm’s length?” I said, pushing the file toward her.
“Pretty short arms, I’d say.”
She covered the space between the door and the table in two quick strides, snatched up the file, and held it to her chest. “This is trespassing, O’Brien.”
“Actually, it’s break and enter. Why did you lie about this?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions. You’re not the police.” She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
“You don’t want to talk about Riesler?” I shrugged. “Okay, we’ll let him go for now. How about Jonathan Edwards? Nice guy, by the way. Too bad it didn’t work out. So why’s he out of the department, Elaine? What’s the big secret?”
“That’s it. I’m calling the police.” She aimed for the phone.
“Go ahead. I can formalize this investigation at any point. All it takes is a call to the Dean.”
She whirled around. “He used me.” “Are you so sure?” I reached down and pulled out Connell’s publication record from my briefcase. “Jonathan asked me to show you this. Actually, he begged me to show it to you.”
At first she didn’t take it. She turned stony-faced to the wall, but I knew her weak points. “What’s the matter, Elaine. Afraid you might find out you were wrong?”
She gave me the evil eye and yanked the paper from my hands. “You’re wasting my time.”
“Just read it.”
She sat down reluctantly. I got up and found myself a glass in the cupboard. There was almost nothing of interest in the fridge, typical Elaine, so I opted for a glass of water. Leaning against the sink I watched her expression change from annoyance to incomprehension to horror. By the time she pushed the paper forward to stare at the table she was pale.
I spoke gently. “Is that why Jonathan was forced to leave? Because you accused him of stealing
