When Louis saw Victor, he pushed aside the thick program he was working on and took out the log sheets that he was saving to show Victor.
“I’ve checked over the last six months,” Louis said, organizing the papers for Victor to see, “and underlined the times the hacker has logged on. It seems the kid checks in every Friday night around eight. At least fifty percent of the time he stays on long enough to be traced.”
“How come you say ‘kid’?” Victor asked, straightening up from glancing at the logs.
“It’s just an expression,” Louis answered. “Somebody who breaks into a private computer system could be any age.”
“Like one of our competitors?” Victor said.
“Exactly, but historically there’s been a lot of teenagers that do it just for the challenge. It’s like some kind of computer game for them.”
“When can we try to trace him?” Victor asked.
“As soon as possible,” Louis said. “It terrifies me that this has been going on for so long. I have no idea what kind of mischief this guy has been up to. Anyway, I talked the phone company into sending over some technicians to watch tomorrow night, if it’s all right with you.”
“Fine,” Victor said.
That settled, Victor continued on to his lab. He found Robert still absorbed in sequencing the DNA of the inserted genes.
“I’ve got some more rush work,” Victor said hurriedly. “If you need to, pull one of the other techs off a project to help, but I want you to be personally responsible for this work.”
“I’ll get Harry if it’s necessary,” Robert said. “What do you have?”
Victor opened the brown paper bag and removed a small jar. He extended it toward Robert. His hand trembled.
“It’s a piece of my son’s liver.”
“VJ’s?” Robert’s gaunt face looked shocked. His eyes seemed even more prominent.
“No, no, David’s. Remember we did DNA fingerprinting on everyone in my family?”
Robert nodded.
“I want that tumor fingerprinted, too,” Victor said. “And I want some standard H and E stains and a chromosome study.”
“Can I ask why you want all this?”
“Just do it,” Victor said sharply.
“All right,” Robert said, nervously looking down at his feet. “I wasn’t questioning your motives. I just thought that if you were looking for something in particular, I could keep an eye out for it.”
Victor ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that,” he said. “I’m under a lot of pressure.”
“No need to apologize,” Robert said. “I’ll start work on it right now.”
“Wait, there’s more,” Victor said. He removed the four stoppered test tubes. “I’ve got some blood and urine samples I need assayed for a cephalosporin antibiotic called cephaloclor.”
Robert took the samples, tilted them to see their consistency, then checked the grease-pencil labels. “I’ll put Harry on this. It will be pretty straightforward.”
“How is the sequencing coming?” Victor asked.
“Tedious, as usual,” Robert said.
“Any mutations pop up?”
“Not a one,” Robert said. “And the way the probes pick up the fragments, I’d guess at this point that the genes have been perfectly stable.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Victor said.
“I thought you’d be pleased with that information,” Robert said.
“Normally I would,” Victor said. He didn’t elaborate. It would have been too hard for him to explain that he was hoping to find concrete evidence that the dead children’s NGF gene differed from VJ’s.
“So here you are!” a voice called, startling both Victor and Robert. They turned to see Colleen standing at the door, legs apart and arms akimbo. “One of the secretaries told me she saw you creeping around,” she said with a wink.
“I was just about to come over to the office,” Victor said defensively.
“Sure, and I’m about to win the lottery,” Colleen laughed.
“I suppose the office is bedlam?” Victor asked sheepishly.
“Now he thinks he’s indispensable,” Colleen joked to Robert. “Actually, things aren’t too bad. I’ve handled most of what has come up. But there is something that you should know right away.”
“What is it?” said Victor, suddenly concerned.
“Perhaps I could talk to you in private?” Colleen said. She smiled at Robert to indicate she did not mean to be rude.
“Of course,” Victor said awkwardly. He moved across the lab to one of the benches. Colleen followed.
“It’s about Gephardt,” Colleen said. “Darryl Webster, who’s in charge of the investigation, has been trying to get you all day. He finally told me what it was all about. Seems that he has uncovered a slew of irregularities. While Gephardt was purchasing supervisor for Chimera a lot of laboratory equipment vanished.”
“Like what?” Victor questioned.
“Big-ticket items,” Colleen said. “Fast protein liquid chromatography units, DNA sequencers, mass spectrometers, things like that.”
“Good God!”
“Darryl thought you should know,” Colleen added.
“Did he find bogus orders?”
“No,” Colleen said. “That’s what makes it so weird. Receiving got the equipment. It just never went to the department that was supposed to have ordered it. And the department in question never said anything because they hadn’t placed the order.”
“So Gephardt fenced it,” Victor said, amazed. “No wonder his attorney was so hot to cut a deal. He knew what we would find.”
Angrily, Victor remembered that the note around the brick referred to a deal. In all likelihood, Gephardt had been behind the harassment.
“I assume we have the bastard’s telephone number,” Victor said with venom.
“I guess,” Colleen said. “Should be in his employee record.”
“I want to give Gephardt a call. I’m tired of talking through that lawyer of his.”
On the way back to the administration building, Colleen had to run to keep up with Victor. She’d never seen him so angry.
He was still fuming as he dialed Gephardt’s number, motioning for Colleen to stay in the room so she could be a witness to what was said. But the phone rang interminably. “Damn it!” Victor cursed. “The bastard either is out or he’s not answering. What’s his address?”
Colleen looked it up and found a street number in Lawrence, not far from Chimera.
“I think I’ll stop and pay the man a visit on the way home,” Victor said. “I have a feeling he’s been to my house. It’s time I return the call.”
When one of her patients called in sick, Marsha decided to use the hour to visit Pendleton Academy, the private school that VJ had been attending since kindergarten.
The campus was beautiful even though the trees were still bare and the grass a wintry brown. The stone buildings were covered with ivy, giving the appearance of an old college or university.
Marsha pulled up to the administration building and got out. She wasn’t as familiar with the school as she might have been. Although she and Victor had made regular Parents’ Day visits, she’d met the headmaster, Perry Remington, on only two occasions. She hoped he would see her.
When she entered the building she was pleased to find a number of secretaries busy at their desks. At least it wasn’t a vacation week for the staff. Mr. Remington was in his office and was kind enough to see Marsha within a few minutes.
He was a big man with a full, well-trimmed beard. His bushy brows poked over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses.
“We are always delighted to see parents,” Mr. Remington said, offering her a chair. He sat down, crossed his legs, and balanced a manila folder on his knee. “What’s on your mind?”