But what he failed to appreciate beyond everything else was the plan for how the completed apparatus would be used. Alastair Holloway would undertake the most outrageous heist in the annals of crime. “Clueless, naive, and expendable” was a perfect description of Aldin Mills.
FOURTEEN
Stanford University
Dr. Niles Penburton was spellbound by all the activity following the Quantum Building crimes from the night before. The Palo Alto police investigation had not let up since he was first notified that Frank Santos had been killed, but he was not prepared for the storm of police activity that would greet his arrival the following day.
Throughout the previous evening’s investigation, he had stayed behind the scenes, talking briefly to officers while taking in every aspect of the unfolding drama. When Captain Hawkley had learned Penburton was the head of Quantum research at Stanford University, he had authorized his admittance to both crimes scenes- Dr. Conrad’s’ burglarized fifth-floor office, and the murder outside Dr. Levassuer’s lab on the third floor. Throughout the early morning hours, Penburton had also spent considerable time with Dr. Jarrod Conrad, trying to console him for the loss of valuable research information on the SUT project. He finally left for home shortly before dawn.
Niles awoke late the next morning, having slept fitfully from the previous night’s unexpected activities. He checked his cell phone for messages and listened to three missed calls from Jason Henry. He could tell from the tone of each message that Agent Henry was frantic for information. He decided to shower and have breakfast before calling him back, figuring he would need all his composure before discussing anything with the special agent from the Department of Defense; this was no time for a slip of the tongue.
Once out in the sunshine, however, Niles Penburton noted that he felt better than he had in several weeks. He watched with interest as several students strolled between the various campus buildings, most carrying books or wearing backpacks, busily working on class assignments. Academia continued to flourish at the university, just as its founder, Leland Stanford, had envisioned. This thought always seemed to bolster his confidence whenever he needed reassurance about his career choice.
Stanford University always presented itself as postcard perfect- the landscape supervisor taking extraordinary care of the grounds, which highlighted one of the most coveted bastions of higher learning in the United States. But at no time during the year did Stanford look more refined than during the spring. Roses of magnificent beauty and variety, along with chrysanthemums, irises, and lilies, festooned the Oval Park, the amphitheater, the sports complex, and all along the many campus buildings and promenades. Flowering plants of incredible diversity displayed a kaleidoscope of colors across the campus.
Niles loved to take long walks in the springtime, never tiring of discovering small enclaves of students gathered in shaded circles, discussing current events or other salient topics. Shaping the most intelligent young minds to be found anywhere was an intoxicating experience, and one he richly savored. Teaching at Stanford had always been his dream, a dream made possible by the Stanfords’ vision.
Leland and Jane Stanford established the university in memory of their only child, Leland Jr., who succumbed to typhoid fever in 1884 at the age of fifteen. Leland left most of his fortune to the university, a fortune amassed from supplying provisions to miners during the California Gold Rush, and later as one of the legendary Four Horsemen who built the first transcontinental railway.
Whenever Penburton walked the campus, he couldn’t help but feel that Leland and Jane would be extremely proud of how richly developed the university had become. They envisioned creating a top-notch school to rival academic institutions of prominence on the East Coast, and Penburton believed they had far exceeded this mark in every respect. Stanford had gained worldwide distinction as the premier university for many teaching disciplines, including theoretical physics. He never took for granted his good fortune of being a tenured faculty member and dean of the School of Astrophysics.
Penburton finally arrived at his office, after navigating layers of yellow crime-scene tape around the perimeter of the building, and a gauntlet of detectives investigating the crimes. When anyone questioned his presence, he produced Captain Hawkley’s business card granting his authorization for entry. It was surreal what had occurred here the previous evening.
Finally ensconced in his office, he could no longer put off the return call to Jason Henry. He sat at his desk, which was perfectly positioned in the corner of his eleventh-floor office to take advantage of the view in both directions. He loved the view of the campus below, but never more so than today. He knew Special Agent Henry would want an update on everything, and what to expect from Dr. Conrad. This was going to be a difficult conversation. He would need to be guarded in his statements; Jason Henry was no fool.
He dialed the agent’s number, which was answered after the first ring. “Henry.”
“Good morning, Jason, it’s Niles…returning your call.”
“What the hell’s going on there?” Agent Henry questioned. “Why didn’t you call before now? I’ve talked to the locals…they tell me Conrad’s gravity research has been stolen and a guard was killed. What’s the status at Quantum right now?” It was clear from the tone of his voice he was not happy.
“First of all, how do you think the police knew to contact you?” Niles answered, to defuse Henry’s first concern. “In your capacity as special agent of DOD, I thought it better to have the police officially notify you. Second, we can account for everything… except Conrad’s research files. There was no loss of nuclear material,” he emphasized, checking the notes he had compiled the previous evening with Jarrod Conrad.
“This crime wasn’t about stealing radioactive isotopes from the vault. In fact, it doesn’t appear there was an attempt to even locate the vault. The evidence suggests the perpetrators’ sole intent was confiscating Conrad’s research data. Unfortunately, the death of the security guard seems to be an unintended consequence while evacuating the premises,” he stated confidently, gazing out the window at a buxom red-haired coed rollerblading across the sidewalk. “There’s nothing to be overly alarmed about.”
“What…are you kidding me?” Agent Henry asked incredulously. “You really expect me to dismiss the seriousness of this incident? The Joint Chiefs are on me like sand at the beach. What am I supposed to tell them in the next progress report? That the ground-breaking technology you promised has been stolen…but, good news, we didn’t lose the two ounces of fission material at the lab. Are you flippin’ nuts? Come back to reality, Professor.”
“Okay, I get the point,” Penburton replied stiffly. “I stand corrected. I didn’t mean to dismiss the severity of our situation…this pisses me off, too. I’m just trying to see this from the bright side. Truthfully…I’m not that concerned. Dr. Conrad is very conscientious; he has the data for the gravity machine backed up on his home computer, which he believes is sufficient to reconstruct everything. We’ll get through this, Jason.”
“What’s the next step?” Henry asked. “Are there any more leads from the preliminary investigation?”
“As far as I know, PAPD will follow-up on physical evidence found at the scene,” he said. Penburton fully described the details of the stationery that was found and Agent Palatino’s effort to unravel the identity of the perp that hacked into Conrad’s computer terminal. “Since I’ve been here this morning, I’ve seen at least half a dozen plain-clothes officers working the case. No one’s contacted me yet… but I’m sure they will soon.”