Gerrie Nelson - Lab Notes

At that point in Hu Lee’s story, Diane interrupted. “I’m so sorry, but drinking all this tea… I have to run to the lady’s room.”

Hu Lee was a gentleman. He jumped up and helped pull back her chair. “Of course, of course,” he said.

After locking herself in a bathroom stall, Diane took deep breaths and ran her fingers through her hair. Why was Hu Lee sharing this information with her? She pondered what to do.

Mr. Lee’s second mention of “Leo” had conjured up the image of wooden cross boards identifying Dr. Leo’s Serengeti Ranch . Leonard Everly was Leo.

Everly, most likely under an assumed name, had connected with Harry Lee online, found a Middle Eastern buyer for his technology, then traveled to Hong Kong. He intended to bilk Raymond Bellfort and BRI out of their share in the technology that Bayside Research had funded—once a cheat, always a cheat.

But Harry Lee had recognized Everly, and Everly knew it. Poor Harry. His lip-reading ability had cost him his life.

However, Diane was not free to discuss Everly with Hu Lee. For the time being, she was sworn to secrecy with both the “Lab Rats” and the CIA.

Back at the table, with a fresh pot of green tea and mango tarts in front of them, Hu Lee continued his narrative:

Unbeknownst to Raymond Bellfort, Harry Lee, on his own time, had been developing an improved, slightly different biometric device, more compact, more user-friendly. But when he left BRI, he also took the old technology with him. He wanted to deny Bellfort the ability to profit from his life’s work by peddling it to terrorists who would destroy it.

Harry looked for funding online. He drew some interest, and chose to work with a company out of California named “Ridge Laboratory.” Ridge differed from the rest in that they expressed an interest in Harry’s abilities, as well as his technology.

Most of the preliminaries were done over the telephone or online. Then they sent a representative to Hong Kong to meet with Harry.

After Harry’s murder, Hu Lee’s investigation uncovered the fact that the research company, “Ridge Laboratory,” was nonexistent.

Hu Lee looked down at the table; his voice became husky. “Harry spent his last day with my wife and me. We drank tea and watched the sunset from the living room. Then, at eight o’clock, I drove him to The Peak to meet his killer.”

He turned back to Diane and watched her closely as he spoke. “The technology that Harry took with him that day was the old device—the one he knew could not be completed without his input. He was giving it to them as a trial to test their trustworthiness.

“I have the new technology in a safe place, waiting for the proper venue to build it. But there are evil people out there who won’t want to see it come to fruition. Its development will be a very dangerous undertaking.”

Diane sat in her BRI office downloading files onto her computer from the server. She’d finish this last task, then end her relationship with Bayside Research Inc.

Huck, acting as a foot warmer, lay curled under her desk. It seemed he needed physical contact with her almost constantly since her return from South America.

She glanced at her watch; it was 7 p.m. Her monitor told her she had fourteen minutes until the download was complete. David should be there in another half hour to help carry her things to the car. Then he was taking her out to dinner.

She tapped her pen impatiently on her desktop. Huck raised his head and growled. She reassured him: “It’s only me. See.” She tapped her pen again as proof. But Huck crawled out from under the desk and went on point, his nose aimed toward the door.

She reached over and patted him. “That’s why the office door is closed. You’d be chasing every creak and groan this old building makes.” Huck sat down beside her, but kept a wary eye on the exit.

Diane turned and looked out the window at the darkened bay. She watched the blinking light on the channel’s farewell buoy and felt saddened.

Huck growled again. She felt for a velvety ear and scratched behind it. “We’ll be finished here soon.”

Just then her computer beeped. She looked up and saw Access to Source Document Terminated written across the screen.

“Rats!” It appeared the server was down—again. It was too late in the evening to call the IT service. Maybe it was something she could handle on her own. Once before, she had watched the IT technician simply press a reset button.

She stood up to go to the electronics room. But Huck jumped ahead of her. Growling, he lunged at her office door. “What’s wrong with you, boy?”

Reaching for the doorknob, Diane said firmly, “Stay.” She had to go through the lab to get to the electronics room, and neither area needed a sprinkling of dog hairs.

Backing up, Huck whined his displeasure as Diane closed him in her office.

Walking through the reception area and across the hall, she wondered why she should give a damn if Huck shed hairs all over BRI’s labs and their electronics; after tonight, she’d be outta there.

Diane entered the main door of the lab into the bench area and found all the lights ablaze. She had been in the lab two hours earlier and distinctly remembered turning off the lights when she left. The cleaning people must have been there in the meantime; she had seen their van when she arrived.

She crossed the room toward the data area, but stopped dead in the doorway. On a counter near the far wall sat two large red plastic packing crates that had not been there earlier.

Ignoring the hair standing up on the back of her neck, she stepped through the wide doorway into the data area. Now she could see down the length of the first counter. On the floor beside the crates stood a dolly that held a desktop computer. With a quick scan of the room, she located the computer’s former home, now a gaping hole sprouting wires and connectors beside one of the desks. Her eyes returned to the open crates. Her brain registered “robbery in progress.”

At that moment, the door to the electronics room banged open, and Raymond Bellfort stepped out carrying a server under each arm. He had a wild intensity about him. His face was purple, his hair and clothing disheveled. He slid one server onto the counter top. Then he placed the other into a crate. He reached for the first server.

Diane’s decision to turn and run came a split second too late; Bellfort sensed her presence and looked up. They made eye contact and held it.

Bellfort spoke first: “I didn’t know you were here.” His voice was half an octave too high.

Diane’s glance dropped involuntarily to the crates, then back up to his face. His eyes narrowed. She was in trouble. Raymond was stealing a computer and two servers from BRI, and it was her misfortune to catch him in the act.

Her knees went weak.

Bellfort was obviously a common thief as well as an embezzler. And, if he was murderer too, this encounter with him could prove fatal.

Raymond inched his way in her direction. He began talking—probably to distract her from the fact that he was closing the distance between them.

“Your boyfriend copied me in on that email he sent you,” he said in a tremulous voice. He stopped, pulled a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and swabbed his forehead. Then he chuckled and said. “Gabriel’s not a very good judge of human nature, is he?”

He shot Diane an icy smile. “ You’re intuitive about people though, aren’t you Darlin’? You’d know what to expect from a man if he was placed in a situation where he had nothing left to lose. Wouldn’t you?”

Diane didn’t trust her voice. And she sensed that any display of fear would inflame his madness. She stood as silent and still as if she had encountered a cobra.