Gerrie Nelson - Lab Notes

Sara laughed. “I get that reaction a lot.”

The card read: Sara Solomon. Central Intelligence Agency.

Diane smiled. “How about noon tomorrow?”

Diane stepped out into the early evening coolness and without any forethought, turned and walked toward The Strand historic district popular with tourists. Ten minutes later she found herself seated at a table in a small bakery and coffee shop.

Still numbed by the turn of events, she sipped her coffee, nibbled a powdery beignet and concluded that she and Vincent had been duped. When they assigned the Peruvase patent rights, they thought of BRI as a steward of the drug, not an owner who would sell it immediately to a company that wanted to keep it off the market. They had been blinded by the money and the other benefits involved and too naïve to spell out Peruvase’s future development in their agreement. But then again, could any contract have armed itself with enough words to ensure protection against predators?

She knew it was best to avoid Bellfort over the coming week. And maybe by the time she returned from the Caribbean, she’d be able to look him in the eye without spitting in his face.

Wanting her mind to go blank, she studied the wallpaper: In between colorful coffee cups, suspended in space, the words Cappuccino, Espresso, Café au lait and Café latte’ were scattered across the room. Her eyes came to rest on a spot above the Espresso machine. Instructions for its use had been penciled on the wall.

Diane jumped up from her chair and ran out the door, neglecting to pay.

Diane studied the Italian restaurant’s gallery wall crowded with astronaut portraits, then turned back to the woman across the table. “Now I remember. You were in the small runabout the night of the BRI Mexican fiesta.”

Agent Sara Solomon nodded. “I was with Frank. He keeps an eye on your house at night. He lives nearby.”

Diane almost choked on her iced tea. “Do you think I’m in danger?”

“Just taking precautions. Two scientists are dead… I’m sorry about your husband. We’ll have someone follow up on the hit-and-run boat.”

Diane nodded, accepting her sympathy and her help.

“We’re watching over Drs. Wentzel and Sabedra also. But they don’t need to know that.”

Their salads arrived. Diane poked her fork into a crouton and said: “So, you bumped into the Lab Rats online when you were both investigating Harry Lee’s technology. But how did you know the technology existed to begin with?”

“Dr. Lee contacted the National Technology Transfer center looking for funding and/or a strategic partnership. We have friends there who keep us apprised of technology that might interest us.

“Shortly after that, Harry Lee described his invention on a techie blog. He was trawling for investors. Our computers picked it up. That might be where his murderer found him too.

“Our computers also made a match when Dr. Lee’s murder was reported in the Hong Kong newspapers. At that point we had an American scientist with sensitive technology who was murdered abroad, so we could legitimately poke our noses in it. The police were cooperative. But Harry Lee’s uncle wouldn’t talk to us. I think he’s running scared.”

Diane gave up on her salad. In fact, she might never eat again. “As I told the group yesterday, Hu Lee stonewalled me too. I’ll let you know if my end-run to get through to him is successful.”

Sara took a deep breath and leaned forward. “The Agency and Homeland Security are both interested in the possibility of reverse engineering the prototype of Dr. Harry Lee’s biometric device at BRI. I understand it’s in your laboratory. Do you have any idea who owns the technology at this point? And does it work?”

Talk about cutting to the chase. “I was told that Dr. Lee deleted all the technical information from BRI’s computers when he left. So I assumed he owned it. And as far as I can tell, it works. Harry Lee programmed it as a personnel screening device and intrusion alarm. We call it ‘Maggie.’ Why don’t you phone Bellfort and ask to see it?”

“When we investigated Harry Lee’s background—education, employment history and such—we discovered he had worked at BRI. So, naturally we looked into the company. That’s how we know about the prototype. But we also found that Raymond Bellfort does not own controlling interest in the company. His cousin, Gabriel Carrera, owns sixty percent of the stock in BRI. So, he’s the ultimate decision maker—even though he doesn’t have anything to do with the day to day operations at BRI. David Crowley says you have a close business relationship with Carrera. What can you tell me about him?”

After recovering from the shock of this new information, Diane reported what little she knew about Gabriel: “He’s a wealthy industrialist with international holdings, U.S. educated, head of Colombia’s Economic Development Council and rabid about bringing his entire country into the twenty-first century.”

Sara nodded as if Diane had confirmed what she already knew.

The two women were heading to their cars when Diane turned and called to Sara. They walked back toward each other and met in the middle of the parking lot. Diane said, “I have something I’d like to show you before I leave the country. Do you have time to follow me to the house?”

“Sure.” Sara grinned. “If you lose me, I know where you live.”

Diane took Sara Solomon up to the cupola where she showed her the numbers on the wallpaper. “That’s not Vincent’s handwriting. It has to be Harry Lee’s. I discovered only last night that those numbers match the ones in Vincent’s notebooks. I’ll give you copies. Some of them look like telescope settings and compass headings, and others appear to be GPS coordinates. I have no clue what the rest are.

Diane gave Agent Solomon a copy of the Hong Kong newspaper article to refresh her memory about the details of Harry Lee’s murder as well as the copies of Vincent’s notes. Then she walked her out to the driveway.

Sara started her car and lowered the window. “Do you want us to keep an eye on you while you’re down in the Caribbean?”

Diane smiled. “I’ll have people with me at all times. I’ll be fine. But thanks for the offer.”

“Have a good trip.” Sara patted the briefcase on the seat beside her. “If our cryptographers make something of these numbers, Dr. Lee could be providing us with testimony from the grave.”

Olimpia showed Diane to the living room. “You will have some privacy in here. Come to the side patio when you have finished your call.” She headed to the kitchen to give lunch instructions to the maid.

Diane took in the dramatic sea view through the north-facing wall of windows while she tapped in the phone number.

“Hello.” It was Maxine’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hi. I’ve arrived safely. I’m at Olimpia’s house. How is everything there? Are the animals getting along okay?”

“Huck and Jackson are having a great time. But I’m afraid my cat is planning to live behind the sofa for the duration of Huck’s stay.”

“I’ll have to bring back something to make it up to her. Did I tell you that Huck’s heartworm preventative is due next week?”

“Yes, you told me. He’s fine. All the animals are fine—including the chimps. Thanks again for hiring the guards…Oh, and before I forget to tell you, Bellfort is going to Australia—deep sea fishing. He’ll probably be gone for awhile. I’ll have a lot of time to check out his computer then.”

“Good.”

“Another thing: I finally got into Doreen’s computer. When you were driving back from Everly’s ranch that day, you asked me to check for any reimbursements for trips to Asia in December of last year? Well, Everly left Houston for Taipei on December 3 rdand returned from Taipei on December 9 th.