Ethan shook his head.
‘Water,’ Oppenheimer said. ‘Wars over water are already being fought in the Middle East at a local level, but they’re spreading fast. Before long, the tribes fighting for water will be nations fighting for control of rivers and aquifers, the first of the resource wars I’ve been predicting for decades.’
Ethan began to get a picture in his mind of Jeb Oppenheimer, a man whose basic observations were astute but whose mind had been twisted into that of the fundamentalist.
‘What’s all that got to do with Tyler Willis?’ Ethan asked.
The abrupt change of subject seemed to catch Oppenheimer off guard. Ethan noted the rheumy eyes wobble as the old man sought a way past the question.
‘Tyler Willis? He was a biochemist of some kind, researching aging.’
‘Was?’ Ethan repeated. The change of tack had unsettled Oppenheimer’s train of thought, and he could almost see the old man cursing himself before he spoke.
‘He used to work at the Los Alamos Laboratories,’ Oppenheimer said finally. ‘I’m not aware of his current research or location.’
‘He’s had several papers published in the major journals recently,’ Lopez said. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t seen them.’
Ethan noticed that Oppenheimer’s stance had not changed for several moments, as though he were a granite statue rooted to the spot. A classic sign, he recognized, of someone entirely caught up in their own desperate thought processes.
‘I don’t have time to read all of the journals,’ the old man snapped, and then shifted his position as though suddenly aware of his rapture. ‘There are literally thousands published every day.’
‘Willis worked for a rival laboratory to yours,’ Ethan said, not giving the old man time to think. ‘Strange that Saffron would hit its vivisection laboratories instead of attacking your operations.’
‘She learned her goddamn lesson the last time she tried to attack my operation,’ Oppenheimer shot back with a scowl. ‘One of her grubby little friends got himself killed. He was dead by the time they got him to Santa Fe.’
‘And you have no idea of the whereabouts of Tyler Willis now, or of a medical examiner by the name of Lillian Cruz?’
Oppenheimer peered at Ethan.
‘Who the goddamn hell is she?’
‘New Mexico ME,’ Lopez said. ‘Vanished two days ago, along with the remains of a man named Hiram Conley.’
‘What the hell would I want to abduct a morgue attendant and a corpse for?’
‘Who said they were abducted?’ Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.
Oppenheimer’s leathery skin rippled with frustration, his hand wobbling on top of his cane as his temper frayed.
‘What do you two actually want?’
Ethan, enjoying the old man’s discomfort, shrugged.
‘The truth, which we’ll get before long one way or the other. I think you’re a successful man with powerful friends who believes he can do anything he likes. I’m here to tell you that’s not the case.’
Oppenheimer leaned forward and glared down at Ethan.
‘Now you listen to me, you sniveling little shit. I can have you out of this office in ten seconds and out of the goddamn county in thirty. You don’t come in here talking down to me! You come in here on your goddamn knees and beg for my assistance and cooperation!’
He jabbed the cane in Ethan’s direction. As he did so, Ethan noticed the edges of his shirt cuffs were lightly splattered with bloodstains. He looked at the lab coat draped over the back of Oppenheimer’s chair. A pair of fashionable-looking spectacles were poking out from one pocket, black-rimmed with burgundy frames. He knew immediately where he had last seen a pair of spectacles like them: at Los Alamos, worn by Tyler Willis.
Ethan leapt out of his chair, grabbed the cane halfway down and spun it in his grasp before thrusting it up under Oppenheimer’s chin. The old man pivoted awkwardly backwards and sideways, slamming down onto the glass desk with his own cane pinning him down.
Ethan leaned in close. ‘Where’s Willis?’
He saw a flash of fear in the old man’s eyes and then a flame of outrage. Oppenheimer let go of the cane, reaching out and fumbling for an alarm button concealed out of sight under the desk. Ethan grabbed the frail wrist easily and held it like a vice.
‘I can snap you like a twig,’ Ethan said. ‘Where’s Willis?’
‘I’ll have you for this, Warner,’ Oppenheimer growled, spittle flecking his dry lips. ‘Government or not, I’ll have you gutted from bow to stern.’
‘Not before I have the entire Santa Fe police department tearing through this building,’ Ethan said, pressing down on the cane and causing Oppenheimer’s labored breathing to lodge painfully through his throat. ‘Where’s Willis?’
Oppenheimer began shuddering, his chest heaving as a cough erupted from his ruined lungs. Ethan leaned back as strings of mucus splattered from the old man’s mouth to drool in loops from his cheek. Oppenheimer rolled away off his desk, collapsing beside it and coughing uncontrollably.
‘Take it easy, Ethan,’ Lopez said in alarm. ‘Jesus Christ, and you say I’m reckless.’
‘Willis is here, those are his glasses,’ Ethan said, pointing at the spectacles in Oppenheimer’s lab coat before glancing at the opaque windows to check that nobody could see in. ‘Come on.’
30
Ethan dashed out of Oppenheimer’s office, and strode to where the secretary was still sitting behind her desk. Ethan leaned on the desk.
‘Tyler Willis, about twenty-eight years old, five nine, black. Have you seen him?’
The secretary stared with wide blue eyes at Ethan and reared back in her chair.
‘No, I haven’t seen him.’
Lopez pushed Ethan aside.
‘Jesus, give her a break,’ she said before looking at the girl. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Claire,’ the girl said, one hand on her chest as though her heart was about to burst out.
‘Okay, Claire. Your boss has bloodstains on his shirt and Tyler Willis has been missing for several hours. We think that Oppenheimer may have done something to him. This is a criminal investigation and if a crime is discovered, every single employee in this company will be implicated. Do you understand?’
Ethan watched as the girl nodded slowly, her gaze steady now.
‘Do you know where Tyler Willis is?’ Lopez repeated.
‘No,’ Claire said, and cast a glance at Oppenheimer’s office door. ‘But when I buzzed Mister Oppenheimer to inform him of your arrival, I heard someone screaming in the background.’
Ethan stared at her.
‘Where was he?’
Claire’s face blanched with fear.
‘If Mister Oppenheimer finds out that I’ve said anything, he might do to me what he’s been doing to—’
‘No, he won’t,’ Lopez said firmly, ‘because he can’t now that we’ve been here and seen you alive and well. Go and help him when we’re gone, he’ll never know. Where was he when you heard the screaming?’
Claire took a breath and pointed down the hall.
‘The quarantine labs, two floors down, third on the right.’
Ethan didn’t wait for Lopez, launching himself down the hall.
Jeb Oppenheimer gagged as a thick soup of mucus lodged in his throat, his face aching as he coughed, his lungs burning for air. He struggled onto his side on the thick carpet, his stomach heaving as his vision began to sparkle with stars of light. He was about to pass out when a pair of glossy black heels appeared before him. He swiveled his gaze upward to see Claire standing over him, her legs apart and one hand on her hip as she held in her other hand a small plastic chamber with three twelve-inch rubber tubes hanging from it.