The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and Dr. Spears led the way into a glass-walled room suspended in space by lattices of color-coded steel bars. I saw that the entire level was made up of a number of glass-walled rooms secured to the main structure and suspended eighty or so feet above the ground. All the people I could see were wearing business suits.
“So where do all the people in white coats work?” I asked Spears.
The doctor handed me a towel that had been placed on the boardroom table. “All this is just admin, accounting, sales, marketing. Below us — underground — is where most of our research is done. Please have a seat,” she said. “Water?”
I declined. I'd had enough of the stuff already. I took the digital voice recorder from my pocket and placed it on the table. “Hope you don't mind, Doc. I've been known to forget my own mother's name.”
“No problem.” Spears wore an executive smile that packed as much warmth as a cardboard box in November. “How can I help you today?”
“Doc, I spent last week in Japan, investigating the possible murder of Dr. Tanaka—”
She blinked and leaned forward in her seat. “Murder?”
“I said possible murder.”
“But I thought… Hideo had been attacked by a shark.”
“A witness has come forward.”
“Oh, my god… who—”
“What sort of relationship did Dr. Tanaka and Professor Boyle have?”
The doctor frowned. “You believe Professor Boyle could have had something to do with Hideo's murder?”
Spears was no dummy. “Don't infer too much from my questions, Doc. I'm just following lines of inquiry.”
“I knew Hideo better than I know Sean. He was vocal about his passion — a real fanatic. The deep sea was his life and he was determined to imbue everyone with a sense of wonder about what a special world it was down there. Sean is more reserved — keeps pretty much to himself. They were both great scientists, at the very top of their respective fields. I believe they got along, but more because they were opposites attracting than because they were best friends.”
“So they were buddies.”
“They weren't enemies,” she corrected.
“What were they working on?” I asked, knowing exactly what the answer would be.
“Can't tell you that, Special Agent. You'll have to find out through channels at your end. All I can say is that they were working on something for you, or rather, your employer. But as a DoD investigator, you know that, otherwise you wouldn't be here, right?”
Doc Spears might have been surprised to hear how little I actually did know. As for the secrecy issue, there was always the chance she might forget about all the agreements she'd signed to keep her mouth shut. Yeah, about as much chance as I'd have of waking up married to Penelope Cruz. Next question. “How long had Tanaka and Boyle been working together?”
“Their research program had been running around two and a half years.”
“Is it unusual for two specialists from completely different branches of science to work together?”
“Not so long ago, I'd have said yes, because until recently there was very little collaboration between the branches of science. But that's changing these days. There's a growing realization that intuitive leaps in one field can sometimes come from another entirely different one. The newer branches of science, like genetics, are helping this along. Here at MG we have geneticists working with medical doctors, agriculturalists, infectious disease specialists, and so on.”
I threw a curve ball. “Why's it necessary to arm your security personnel?”
“What's that got to do with Dr. Tanaka's death?”
“At the moment, Doc, as to what's relevant, I don't know what is and what isn't.”
She gave a barely perceptible shrug. “There are a large number of people who don't agree with what MG does. We gained a public profile from the work we did eradicating the varroa mite. You know about that?”
“Yes.”
“Well, not all the attention was helpful or positive. We've had our fair share of threats and demonstrations. Some from religious fanatics — the sort of people who are convinced Galileo should have been burned at the stake. Others from environmental extremist groups. And then there are always the animal rights activists. Finally, there's the possibility — remote though it may seem in these days of wireless information transfer — of industrial spies sneaking around. The weapon you're referring to is the Taser, I assume?”
“ Uh-huh.”
“Which is purely defensive and nonlethal. We have a duty of care to the people we employ to protect us. They require their own protection.” She tilted her head and put a finger to her lips as if she was considering both her answer and the question. “You might not know what's relevant or not to your investigation, Special Agent, but would you mind telling me at least why you're asking?”
“Arming your security with NLWs like Tasers seems a little at odds with your public profile — the friendly, socially aware, politically correct one you push so hard. I checked out your Web site, Doc, and you're greener than green, with a halo Mother Teresa would have envied.”
“Welcome to business in the new millennium.” She said it defensively.
“I'd like to talk to some of the people who worked with Tanaka and Boyle.”
“I'm sorry, Special Agent, but that's impossible. Unless I get the proper security clearances. Provide them, and you can talk to whomever you choose.”
I doubted that I would get those clearances without a ton of forms signed in triplicate, by which time everyone would have lost interest — at least on the subject of who did what to whom, especially when “who” was now, in all probability, every bit as dead as “whom.” But my gut told me people at the Pentagon were worrying about something going on here at Moreton Genetics, only no one wanted to turn on the lights and give me a good look at whatever it was. “So tell me, Dr. Spears, what happens with the Tanaka/Boyle research program? Do you shut it down, file it away? Or does someone else take it over?”
“Much of their research program was backed up. We've got their hard disks but unfortunately we've lost their genius. Professor Boyle and Dr. Tanaka were unique, Agent Cooper. They are irreplaceable. Nevertheless, we're hopeful of being able to pick up the threads.”
The doctor might have been hopeful, but she didn't seem all that certain. Maybe without Tanaka and Boyle on the job, the program was dead in the water. No pun intended. I waited for more information but none came. Spears glanced at her watch, and then at the door of another glass box across the void, impatient to be someplace else. “Special Agent, I'm sorry, but I have another appointment. If you have no other questions…?”
“Just one more, Doc, for the moment. Can you think of any reason why Professor Boyle would want to murder Dr. Tanaka?”
“Oh, my god… so you really think that's what happened?” Spears leaned forward and wrung her hands. “You think Sean threw Hideo into the jaws of a shark? Is that what your witness saw?”
“As I said, I'm just checking lines of inquiry.” I ignored her questions and reiterated mine. “So — any reason?”
The doctor shook her head slowly. “No … no …” But the way she said it, the fright in her face as she stared back at me, I wasn't so sure.
ELEVEN