Final Venture

'Do you think it had anything to do with Gil retiring?'

'Is he retiring?' John asked, his eyes widening.

'Yes, he is. Sorry. I assumed Frank would have told you.'

'No,' John replied. 'That's absolutely the sort of thing we didn't talk about.'

'What did he think of Art?'

'He thought he was a jerk. I don't think they liked each other much.'

'Did he talk about Art's drinking?'

'I didn't know Art drank,' said John. 'You seem to know a whole lot more about all this than I do.'

'Maybe,' I said. 'I'm amazed the police didn't find out about you and Frank.'

'They did.'

'What?'

'It took them a couple of weeks. They found my fingerprints at Marsh House. At first, I said I'd been there working on deals with Frank, and they believed that. But then the results of some of the other forensic tests came through, which suggested I was doing more in Marsh House than just working. I never went to Frank's apartment in Boston, he was too careful for that. But when the cops interviewed my neighbours, they soon realized we had been together here. Plus, they checked Frank's computer and found some e-mails that made the situation pretty clear.'

'So didn't that make you a suspect?'

John nodded. 'For a day or so. But a neighbour saw me that afternoon, and I went out with some friends in the evening. So, after a while they gave up on me, and started asking about you.'

I groaned. 'Did you tell them anything?'

'Only the truth,' John said. 'I did say Frank was worried about you and Diane, and that there had been some tension between you in recent months. They asked whether Frank was frightened of you, or if you had ever threatened him, and I said absolutely not.'

'I suppose I should thank you.'

John shrugged. 'I was only telling the truth.'

'But now they know he was gay, can't they investigate that angle?'

John's eyes flashed. 'What do you mean?'

'Oh, I don't know. Another gay lover, or something.'

'There was no chance of that,' John snapped. 'I was the only man Frank was with. I told the police I was sure of that.'

'But you said you weren't entirely faithful to him…'

'Yes,' said John angrily. 'And that's something I'm going to have to live with. But Frank was different. That's why we had the fight that night.'

I sighed. Far from my discovery about John pointing suspicion away from me, somehow it only seemed to reinforce what Mahoney already believed. 'The police have kept this quiet, haven't they?'

'So far they've been very discreet. There's Frank's family to consider. Lisa.'

'They're right.' The fewer people who knew about Frank and John the better for Lisa. I was very worried how she would take this. 'John, can you do me a favour?'

'What?'

'If you think of anything that might help me discover who killed Frank, let me know.'

'All right. I will.'

23

John and I were polite to each other at work the next day. We both had our secrets and suspicions, and it was easier just to pretend that the previous night's conversation hadn't happened. Mahoney came in, set up camp in Frank's office for the morning, and seemed to be interviewing everyone but me. John and Daniel each took their turn. I walked past a couple of times and saw two of Mahoney's assistants going through piles of Frank's files.

I wondered what else he had discovered that I didn't know about. It had come as a shock that there had been a whole line of investigation involving Frank and John that I hadn't been aware of. But, despite that, from what John had said I was still Mahoney's favourite suspect.

Mahoney was doing better than me. I was stuck. True, I had widened the field of possible suspects beyond just myself. Now there was Craig, Art, and perhaps John. Gil and Diane were possibilities, although unlikely ones. Eddie was also worth considering. But having widened the field, I now needed to narrow it down to just one name. Frank's killer. And I had no idea how to do that.

Several times I had considered trying to join forces with Mahoney, but I knew Gardner Phillips wouldn't allow it. If I kept quiet and said nothing to the police, he would keep me out of jail. If I talked to them, I was on my own.

As far as Mahoney was concerned, I was guilty. His job now was to prove it. And I could see his point of view, especially once he had found the gun. He knew Lisa had dumped it in the river. Which meant I must have killed Frank.

How had the gun got into the living-room closet in the first place? That was still a question I was nowhere near answering satisfactorily. No one had been in the apartment between when the police had searched it and when Lisa had found the weapon, apart from me, her and Mahoney. Maybe the bastard really had planted it.

Unless Lisa had hidden it there herself? No, I couldn't think that. Couldn't even begin to think that.

God, I missed her!

Daniel came back into the office. He had been with Mahoney for about half an hour. He smiled at me.

'What did he say?'

'He told me not to tell you.'

'Come on, Daniel.'

'OK. He asked lots of questions about you. And Frank. Nothing specific. He was just fishing. He went through deals you had done together. Net Cop, that kind of thing.'

That was interesting. If he was checking out Net Cop, I wondered how long it would take him to link Nancy Bowman's description to Craig.

Daniel sat at his desk, and clicked a couple of buttons on his mouse. Then he let out a whoop. All right!'

'What is it? Don't tell me BioOne is up an eighth.'

'No. But Beaufort Technologies is off another twenty per cent today. That means it's lost almost half its value. I was short.'

'Good for you. I trust Lynette Mauer will be duly thankful.'

Daniel smiled. 'It was the Bieber Foundation selling their stake that started the slide.'

'Daniel!'

'What?' he grinned. 'It was an accident waiting to happen. I just nudged it along a little.'

I shook my head in disbelief as I watched him chuckle at his computer screen.

'Is money all that matters to you?' I asked.

Daniel turned to me surprised. 'No, of course not,' he said.

I raised my eyebrows.

'Well, maybe. But these days in America, you've got to have money. If you have money, people take notice. And it's got to be big money. A mill won't cut it. You need tens of millions. Like John's father.'

John looked up from his work, decided to ignore Daniel and put his head down again.

'I've just got ambition, that's all,' Daniel went on. 'There's nothing wrong with that. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me a famous American who isn't worth millions.'

My mind ran through famous Americans: film stars, TV personalities, politicians, sports players, writers, singers, religious leaders. He was right. Even Mickey Mouse was probably worth billions.

'See,' said Daniel, and turned back to gloat at his computer screen.

I couldn't stand working at my desk, knowing that down the corridor Mahoney was asking everyone questions about me, so I decided to get the train to Wellesley and see how Craig was doing.

The place was buzzing. After so much uncertainty, the engineers now felt confident that their designs would actually take on a physical shape. For something so expensive, the switch wouldn't look very impressive. It would be a box about eighteen inches wide by two feet long. Most of the cost would go into the ASIC or Application Specific Integrated Circuit. This was a wafer of silicon with millions of tiny electronic connections. It was what would make our switches different from anyone else's, and it was ownership of the design of these circuits that would create the real value in Net Cop as and when it was eventually sold or taken public on the stock market.

We needed to hire more engineers to oversee the assembly and testing. Craig already had people in mind, but they had to be persuaded to jump from their existing lucrative posts. I joined Craig in the sales job. It was fun.