As soon as he stepped from the elevator, Jason felt as if he were in another world. As part of Hayes’s incentive to come to GHP, the GHP board had built him a brand new lab which occupied a good portion of the sixth floor.
The area near the elevator was furnished with comfortable leather seating, deep pile carpets, and even a large glass-fronted bookcase filled with current references in molecular biology. Beyond this reception room was a clean room where visitors were expected to don long white coats and protective coverings over their shoes. Jason tried the door. It was open, so he entered.
Jason put on the coat and booties and tried the inner door. As he expected, it was locked. Next to the door was a buzzer. He pushed it and waited. Above the lintel a small red light blinked on over a closed-circuit TV camera. Then the door buzzed open and Jason entered.
The lab was divided into two main sections. The first section was constructed of white Formica and white tile and included a large central room with several offices on one side. With overhead fluorescent lighting, the effect was dazzling. The room was filled with sophisticated equipment, most of which Jason did not recognize. A locked steel door separated the first section from the second. A sign next to the door read: ANIMAL ROOM AND BACTERIAL INCUBATORS: NO ENTRY!
Sitting at one of the extensive lab benches in the first section was a very blond woman Jason had seen on several occasions in the GHP cafeteria. She had sharp features, a slightly aquiline nose, and her hair was tightly pulled back into a French knot. Jason saw that her eyes were red, as if she had been crying.
“Excuse me, I’m Dr. Jason Howard,” he said, extending his hand. She took it. Her skin was cool.
“Helene Brennquivist,” she said with a slight Scandinavian accent.
“Do you have a moment?”
Helene didn’t answer. Instead, she closed her notebook and pushed away a stack of petri dishes.
“I’d like to ask a few questions,” Jason continued. He saw that she had an uncanny ability to maintain an absolutely neutral facial expression.
“This is, or was, Dr. Hayes’s lab?” Jason asked, with a short wave of his hand to the surroundings.
She nodded.
“And I presume you worked with Dr. Hayes?” Another nod, less perceptible than the first. Jason had the feeling he’d already evoked a defensiveness in the woman.
“I’m assuming that you’ve heard the bad news about Dr. Hayes,” Jason said. This time she blinked, and Jason thought he saw the glint of tears.
“I was with Dr. Hayes when he died,” Jason explained, watching Helene carefully. Except for the watery eyes, she seemed strangely devoid of emotion, and Jason wondered if it was a form of grief. “Just before Hayes died, he told me that he’d made a major scientific breakthrough…”
Jason let his comment hang in the air, hoping for some appropriate response. There was none. Helene merely stared back at him.
“Well, was there?” Jason said, leaning forward. “I didn’t know you were finished speaking,” Helene said. “It wasn’t a question, you know.”
“True,” Jason admitted. “I was merely hoping you’d respond. I do hope you know what Dr. Hayes meant.”
“I’m afraid I don’t. Other people in the administration have already been up here asking me the same question. Unfortunately, I have no idea what Dr. Hayes could have been referring to.”
Jason imagined that Shirley had been to see Helene first thing that morning.
“Are you the only person besides Dr. Hayes who works in this lab?”
“That’s right,” Helene said. “We had a secretary, but Dr. Hayes dismissed her three months ago. He thought she talked too much.”
“What was he afraid she’d talk about?”
“Anything and everything. Dr. Hayes was an intensely private person. Especially about his work.”
“So I’m learning,” Jason said. His initial impression that Hayes had become paranoid seemed to be substantiated. Yet Jason persisted: “What exactly do you do, Miss Brennquivist?”
“I’m a molecular biologist. Like Dr. Hayes, but nowhere near his ability. I use recombinant DNA techniques to alter E. coli bacteria to produce various proteins that Dr. Hayes was interested in.”
Jason nodded as if he understood. He’d heard the term “recombinant DNA,” but had only the vaguest notion what it really meant. Since he’d been in medical school there had been a virtual explosion of knowledge in the field. But there was one thing he did remember, and that was a fear that recombinant DNA studies might produce bacteria capable of causing new and unknown diseases. With Hayes’s sudden death in mind, he asked, “Had you come up with any new and potentially dangerous strains?”
“No,” Helene said without hesitation.
“How can you be so sure?”
“For two reasons. First of all, I did all the recombinant bacterial work, not Dr. Hayes. Secondly, we use a strain of E. coli bacteria that cannot grow outside of the laboratory.”
“Oh,” Jason said, nodding encouragingly.
“Dr. Hayes was interested in growth and development. He spent most of his time isolating the growth factors from the hypothalamic-pituitary axis responsible for puberty and sexual development. Growth factors are proteins. I’m sure you know that.”
“Of course,” Jason said. What a curious woman, he thought. At first, conversation had been like pulling teeth. Now that she was on scientific ground, she was extremely vocal.
“Dr. Hayes would give me a protein and I’d set out to produce it by recombinant DNA techniques. That’s what I’m doing here.” She turned to the stacks of petri dishes, and, lifting one, removed the cover. She extended it toward Jason. On the surface were whitish clumps of bacterial colonies.
Helene replaced the dish on its appropriate stack. “Dr. Hayes was fascinated by the on/off switching of genes, the balance between repression and expression, and the role of repressor proteins and where they bind to the DNA. He’s used the growth hormone gene as the prototype. Would you like to see his latest map of chromosome 17?”
“Sure,” Jason said, forcing a smile.
A buzzer resounded in the lab, momentarily drowning out the low hum of the electronic equipment. A screen in front of Helene flashed to life, showing four people and a dog in the foyer. Jason recognized two of them immediately — Shirley Montgomery and Detective Michael Curran. The other two were strangers.
“Oh, dear,” Helene said, as she reached for the buzzer.
Jason stood as the new arrivals filed into the room. Shirley registered a momentary flash of surprise when she saw Jason, but calmly introduced Detective Curran to Helene. As he began to question her, Shirley took Jason by the arm and steered him into the nearest office, which Jason realized must have been Hayes’s. Covering the walls were progressive close-up photos of human genitalia going through the anatomical evolution of puberty. They were all nicely framed in stainless steel squares.
“Interesting decor,” Jason commented wryly.
Shirley acted as if she didn’t even see the photos. Her usually calm face wore an expression of concern and irritation. “This affair is getting out of hand.”
“What do you mean?” Jason asked.
“Apparently last night the police got an anonymous tip that Dr. Alvin Hayes dealt drugs. They searched his apartment and found a significant amount of heroin, cocaine, and cash. Now they have a warrant to search his lab.”
“My God!” Jason suddenly understood the dog’s presence.
“And as if that’s not enough, they found out he’s been living with a woman by the name of Carol Don ner.”
“That name sounds familiar,” Jason said.
“Well, it shouldn’t be,” Shirley said sternly. “Carol Donner is an exotic dancer at the Club Cabaret in the Combat Zone.”