Gerrie Nelson - Lab Notes

She crept along Mechanic Street toward the hotel entrance wondering what she was doing there. What could her drive-by spying possibly accomplish? And what if David saw her? She shrugged. If he didn’t want to be followed, he should clean up his act… and get a nondescript gray car like hers.

With a horse and buggy setting the pace, she passed the hotel entrance slower than she would have liked. A bellman was holding open one of the doors, so she had plenty of time to peer into the lobby “…where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey…”

Inside, on the stairs, David Crowley was shaking hands with another gentleman—a perfectly harmless thing to do. Except that Diane was almost certain David had switched administrative call with Pete Sabedra for that day. He had told Pete he had Houston Symphony Sunday matinee tickets at the Jones Hall—fifty miles north of Galveston.

Diane unlocked Maxine’s office door, stepped inside and switched on the light. Her night raids were becoming a bad habit. But this time, she knew exactly where to look. She’d be out of there in ten minutes.

Then a voice came from behind her.

“You could have just asked me for whatever you needed.”

Diane turned to face Maxine who stood in the doorway wearing a jogging suit and sneakers. “I didn’t know if I could trust you.” Immediately she wished she hadn’t said that.

Maxine shot a glance at the master keys in Diane’s hand, then made eye contact and grinned.

Red-faced, but struck by the irony, Diane returned a reluctant smile and pocketed the culprit keys. She moved to the center of the room, her mind casting about for some pretext for trespassing.

Maxine stepped into her closet and emerged with the keys to the file cabinets. She held them out to Diane. “I guess you’ll need these. I won’t even ask what you’re looking for.”

Diane bowed humbly. “Thank you,” she said. Dumbfounded by Maxine’s indulgence, she headed for a bottom drawer labeled Admin Call Schedules . She knelt on the floor studying the file, all the while wondering why Maxine had shown up there. Then, drumming fingers on the desk behind her broke the silence.

“Amelia, my psychic, said you’d come back here tonight.”

Diane stopped reading. She had a sudden respect for Amelia’s pronouncements.

Maxine went on: “I knew you’d been in here the last time. You were on administrative call that night too. The scent of your hair conditioner was still strong in the closet the next morning. Cherry Almond Bark wasn’t it?”

Diane carefully closed the bottom drawer, then sat on the floor and leaned back against the file cabinets. “Yes… it was.” Where was this going?

“Amelia said if I caught you here, it would level the playing field. Then we could talk.”

Diane felt like an interrogation lamp might switch on at any moment. “Okay… let’s talk.”

Maxine stood up, walked around her desk and settled lotus-style on the floor across from Diane. “I’ll go first.” She cleared her throat. “I’m an animal rights activist. No one here knows that—except Colton, of course. He’s one of us. He likes to hang with animals more than with people. He says that the critters don’t look down their noses at him.

“I came to work at BRI to keep an eye on the research animals. There were some problems here in the past; some of the macaque monkeys looked like they’d been tortured—burned in the butt—with a hot wire, possibly.

“But after you arrived, everything seemed fine—until the break-in.”

Maxine leaned forward, set her jaw and spoke through her teeth. “I want you to know that our group was not responsible for that. We did not break into BRI. And we did not set the chimps loose.

“Sometimes we find it necessary to vandalize a laboratory or torch a fur store or throw some red paint on the symphony & opera crowds to make our point—it’s hard to believe that some people actually wear furs coats in subtropical Houston… Then on some very rare occasions we kidnap research animals. But we would never-ever turn animals loose in an environment where they might get hurt.”

Diane’s face was frozen in neutral, but her insides jumped up and down shouting “Holy Crap!” Why was Maxine delivering this profile in activism to her? Scientists were considered natural enemies to those of Maxine’s ilk. Was she setting up to give her an ultimatum?

Maxine continued. “There’s something scary going on around here—”

“If it wasn’t your people, then who broke in here and took Vincent’s—ESPN’s—video camera?”

Maxine turned her palms upward and slowly shook her head. “They stole my iPod, Raymond’s digital camera and Pete’s tablet computer too. Luckily, Pete’s stuff was backed up…. I know you’re looking for answers too. And I think we can help one another.” She raised her eyebrows in a question.

Diane met Maxine’s gaze and measured it for a moment. Here was a person who closely followed the advice of a psychic (albeit one who was spot-on about her coming there tonight) and acted as a secret agent for the animal rights extremists. She asked herself: Can this girl be trusted? Her intuition responded immediately with an unqualified YES . She nodded slowly.

“It’s your turn then.” Maxine said.

Diane flexed her knees, hugged them to her and took a deep breath. Time to play Truth or Dare .

“Vincent left me some notebooks that contain a lot of disjointed information—mostly about unethical practices in the biotech industry, BRI in particular. He wants me to track Peruvase . I’ll tell you how I know that over a beer sometime.

“At first, I thought he wanted me to make sure Peruvase was brought to the marketplace. But that was only part of it. He feels—felt—that by following the Peruvase trail, Bellfort’s successful business model can be exposed for what it is—pure greed. Vincent wants me to track it down. Write it up. Publish it.

“Tonight, I came here primarily to check on Leonard Everly. Vincent mentions him in his notes.”

Maxine sat speechless for a moment, then untangled her legs, jumped up and held out her hand. “Let’s see those keys.”

Diane tossed her the cabinet keys. Maxine retrieved Everly’s file, sat down—almost thigh to thigh with Diane—and opened it.

Other than Everly’s address, phone number and social security number, the file wasn’t very informative. Maxine filled in some of the blanks: Dr. Leonard Everly had worked at BRI as a researcher and retired several years ago. But he continued to keep up with the biotechnology and pharmaceutical industries and served as a consultant to Raymond Bellfort.

Maxine had never met him. But Doreen in bookkeeping had been at BRI almost from the beginning and she knew him. As a matter of fact, Doreen had gone to his ranch down the Texas coast to get a puppy last year; Leonard Everly bred Rhodesian Ridgebacks.

Raymond Bellfort had been upset when he learned that she had gone down there. He said that Everly preferred to be left alone. Doreen concurred that even when he worked at BRI Dr. Everly had kept to himself. Maxine promised Diane that she’d get more information from the bookkeeper.

Diane thanked her profusely for her help, then said, “Now, what can I do for you ?”

Maxine scrambled to her knees and sat back on her haunches. She reached over and took Diane’s hand.

It had been a while since Diane experienced intimate human contact; her initial instinct was to draw back. But Maxine’s distress was palpable. Diane stayed put.

“I’d like to have the chimps sent back if you don’t need them. Or at least put a twenty-four hour guard on them. I’ve pleaded with Raymond, but he doesn’t think they’re in danger now.