She knew he meant his intuition again. It gave her a creepy feeling, the way his suspicions about the spoiler had turned out to be true. Now Kendric was making unknown deals.
"Raw materials?" Walshaw suggested. "Is he buying up the options on the compounds that go into the giga-conductor?"
"No," said Philip. "There aren't any really rare minerals involved in any case. And I've made quite sure we have a safeguarded stockpile of the chemicals we use. That's an elementary precaution, I did that even before we filed the patent."
Greg rubbed the dressing on his nose with a forefinger. "Tell you, my own impression is that Kendric has made some sort of alliance."
"With who?" Julia asked.
He gave her a wan smile. "Don't know. Someone, some organisation, who would benefit from having your grandfather wiped. Kendric is an influence peddler, you see. Once he established that Philip Evans's memories were stored in the NN core, he could barter the information in exchange for an investment opportunity that'd give the family house money a return equal to the Event Horizon backing consortium. Get someone else to do his dirty work for him, and make a profit at the same time. That's his style."
"A kombinate?"
"No, I never believed it was a kombinate behind the blitz, a month-long delay in introducing the giga-conductor would be a nonsense when you consider their cyber-factories would have to be totally rebuilt to produce the stuff."
"What, then?"
"Sorry, I can't tell you. That's just the feeling I get out of all this." He shrugged. "Kendric definitely has some sort of scheme in mind, the buyout is proof of that, as well as his hatred for you."
"Mutual," Julia said automatically.
"I know."
And the way he said it made her glance at him, he'd sounded disapproving.
"What about this Wolf bloke," Philip said. "He's had two goes at me now. Seems to me, you ought to be concentrating on him, boy."
"I was coming to that. My contact has backtracked O'Donal's payments; he squirted Wolf's identity to me this morning."
"May we know the name?" Walshaw asked.
"Charles Ellis. Currently residing at the Castlewood condominium, New Eastfield, Peterborough."
She couldn't help the little start of interest. "I know that place. Uncle Horace lives there, it's not far from the marina. That proves Ellis is connected to Kendric, doesn't it?"
"Not necessarily. It's a perfectly logical place for someone that rich to gravitate to. Although I admit it's pushing coincidence a long way."
"Rich?" Walshaw enquired. "What is he, a tekmerc?"
"Apparently not," said Greg. "According to my contact Ellis is a data fence. He normally goes under the handle Medeor. Wolf is a totally new venture for him."
"What do you propose as your next step?" Walshaw asked. His grey eyes had narrowed, contemplating Greg with reserved, vaguely threatening preoccupation.
"Pay Charles Ellis a visit. He's the last link, the connection between the team of hotrods who ran the blitz and whoever paid for it."
"Seeing as how you're so close I'd like to send one of my operatives along with you," Walshaw said. "I know you prefer to work independently, and I respect that. But the stakes are mounting."
"I wasn't going to object," Greg said. "Just make sure he's briefed not to interrupt."
"He won't."
"One more thing, have you had any luck with the analysis of Tentimes' burns?" Greg asked.
"If you mean is there a single beneficiary, then the answer is no." Walshaw paused, looking concerned. "But seven manufacturing companies have gone under because of O'Donal; and some of the financials are on a sticky wicket, although they'll never admit a thing. And now we know what to look for, the researchers have spotted several similar victims outside O'Donal's list. It looks like all eight of Wolf's hotrods are very active; they've caused a lot of damage in the last year. It prompts the question why?"
"Yes," said Philip. "If that kind of disturbance is being repeated by others like him I'd hate to think of the long-term consequences."
"Perhaps that's Wolf's goal," Greg said. "Trying to sabotage Event Horizon's long-term prospects."
"I don't mean just us, boy. I've run my own analysis on the burns and their fallout. They're totally indiscriminate. If that sort of thing isn't halted soon it'll add at least another couple of points to inflation, and that's already running too high as it is. A further rise would blow the Chancellor's budget to pieces."
"You mean even Kendric would suffer?"
"Everybody suffers," Walshaw said bluntly.
"Could it be another government? If England's industrial output goes down, who'd step in to make up the shortfall?"
"Just about everybody," Philip concluded miserably. "Bloody Pacific Rim would be the biggest beneficiaries, of course."
Julia saw the connection without having to kick in her processor nodes. "A finance house," she said firmly. Both men looked at her. "A finance house would benefit from a change of interest rates, if they knew for sure it would happen."
"That's right, they would. Good girl, Juliet."
"The di Girolamo house?" Walshaw mused.
"Why worry?" she said brightly. "Greg can do his word-association thing with Ellis to find out the details. You'll have it all solved for us by tonight, Greg, won't you?"
Greg sat back in his chair, a tired smile playing over his battered face. "How much do you want to bet on that?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Greg kept a cautionary eye on Julia as she walked out to the car with him. There was a confidence about her which had been absent before; she'd always had poise, but it'd been stilted and formal. This was a natural grace. No doubt Adrian had a lot to do with it. The kind of stability he offered putting her at ease with other people.
Adrian hadn't changed all her habits, though. He thought her emerald broderie anglaise dress was something Maid Marion would've been perfectly at home in; it had puffball cap sleeves, a lace-up bodice and a skirt hem riding several centimetres above her knees. Nice legs. The girl's clothes sense was the weirdest, nobody else her age wore anything remotely similar. But, of course, she wasn't like anybody else her own age. Just wanted to be.
She lifted the front door's iron latch for him, eager to please. Sparrows, goldfinches, and a couple of hoopoes squabbled underneath the sprinklers' cascade, pecking at the grass for worms that'd risen in the artificial rain. The direct sunlight set off an uncomfortable itch on Greg's face and hands.
"Hop in," he said, as he blipped the Duo doors, "I've got something to say to you."
Her face lit up with mischief. "Greg, really! And Adrian so close by."
He sensed that ghostly extraneous thought current leave her mind with lightning swiftness. Her own thoughts were a fast-paced mixture of excitement and contentment. Julia was one happy girl. He flicked the jammer on, screening the Duo's interior from the manor's security surveillance sensors. "Julia."
Her expression dropped at his tone. "What?"
"Katerina."
"Oh, her. What about her?"
"I'm going to be very nice to you, and I'm not going to put you over my knee and give you a damn good wallop. Although God knows you deserve it, or worse, after what you've done."
"What?" She was spluttering, hauteur and outrage gathering within her mind.
"Your grandfather was quite right about you. You're a sciolistic; you know the moves, but not the governing laws."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, you worked it out very nicely on a surface level, I'll grant you that. What you failed to appreciate were the undercurrents."
"Stop talking in euphemisms, it's bloody annoying."
"I've seen inside Kendric's mind," Greg said. "He dreams of you, Julia."