Final Venture

23

John and I were polite to each other at work the next day. We both had our secrets and suspicions, and it was easier just to pretend that the previous night's conversation hadn't happened. Mahoney came in, set up camp in Frank's office for the morning, and seemed to be interviewing everyone but me. John and Daniel each took their turn. I walked past a couple of times and saw two of Mahoney's assistants going through piles of Frank's files.

I wondered what else he had discovered that I didn't know about. It had come as a shock that there had been a whole line of investigation involving Frank and John that I hadn't been aware of. But, despite that, from what John had said I was still Mahoney's favourite suspect.

Mahoney was doing better than me. I was stuck. True, I had widened the field of possible suspects beyond just myself. Now there was Craig, Art, and perhaps John. Gil and Diane were possibilities, although unlikely ones. Eddie was also worth considering. But having widened the field, I now needed to narrow it down to just one name. Frank's killer. And I had no idea how to do that.

Several times I had considered trying to join forces with Mahoney, but I knew Gardner Phillips wouldn't allow it. If I kept quiet and said nothing to the police, he would keep me out of jail. If I talked to them, I was on my own.

As far as Mahoney was concerned, I was guilty. His job now was to prove it. And I could see his point of view, especially once he had found the gun. He knew Lisa had dumped it in the river. Which meant I must have killed Frank.

How had the gun got into the living-room closet in the first place? That was still a question I was nowhere near answering satisfactorily. No one had been in the apartment between when the police had searched it and when Lisa had found the weapon, apart from me, her and Mahoney. Maybe the bastard really had planted it.

Unless Lisa had hidden it there herself? No, I couldn't think that. Couldn't even begin to think that.

God, I missed her!

Daniel came back into the office. He had been with Mahoney for about half an hour. He smiled at me.

'What did he say?'

'He told me not to tell you.'

'Come on, Daniel.'

'OK. He asked lots of questions about you. And Frank. Nothing specific. He was just fishing. He went through deals you had done together. Net Cop, that kind of thing.'

That was interesting. If he was checking out Net Cop, I wondered how long it would take him to link Nancy Bowman's description to Craig.

Daniel sat at his desk, and clicked a couple of buttons on his mouse. Then he let out a whoop. All right!'

'What is it? Don't tell me BioOne is up an eighth.'

'No. But Beaufort Technologies is off another twenty per cent today. That means it's lost almost half its value. I was short.'

'Good for you. I trust Lynette Mauer will be duly thankful.'

Daniel smiled. 'It was the Bieber Foundation selling their stake that started the slide.'

'Daniel!'

'What?' he grinned. 'It was an accident waiting to happen. I just nudged it along a little.'

I shook my head in disbelief as I watched him chuckle at his computer screen.

'Is money all that matters to you?' I asked.

Daniel turned to me surprised. 'No, of course not,' he said.

I raised my eyebrows.

'Well, maybe. But these days in America, you've got to have money. If you have money, people take notice. And it's got to be big money. A mill won't cut it. You need tens of millions. Like John's father.'

John looked up from his work, decided to ignore Daniel and put his head down again.

'I've just got ambition, that's all,' Daniel went on. 'There's nothing wrong with that. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me a famous American who isn't worth millions.'

My mind ran through famous Americans: film stars, TV personalities, politicians, sports players, writers, singers, religious leaders. He was right. Even Mickey Mouse was probably worth billions.

'See,' said Daniel, and turned back to gloat at his computer screen.

I couldn't stand working at my desk, knowing that down the corridor Mahoney was asking everyone questions about me, so I decided to get the train to Wellesley and see how Craig was doing.

The place was buzzing. After so much uncertainty, the engineers now felt confident that their designs would actually take on a physical shape. For something so expensive, the switch wouldn't look very impressive. It would be a box about eighteen inches wide by two feet long. Most of the cost would go into the ASIC or Application Specific Integrated Circuit. This was a wafer of silicon with millions of tiny electronic connections. It was what would make our switches different from anyone else's, and it was ownership of the design of these circuits that would create the real value in Net Cop as and when it was eventually sold or taken public on the stock market.

We needed to hire more engineers to oversee the assembly and testing. Craig already had people in mind, but they had to be persuaded to jump from their existing lucrative posts. I joined Craig in the sales job. It was fun.

I was interested to realize that I was beginning to think of Net Cop as 'us' rather than 'them'. I really did feel part of it. I was now a bit more sympathetic of the way Art talked about BioOne.

We were in Craig's office late in the afternoon, when Gina popped her head in. 'There's a Sergeant Mahoney here to see you.'

'I'll be with him in a minute,' Craig said. Then he turned to me and raised his eyebrows. 'What shall I tell him?'

'He knows about Frank and John Chalfont. John told me.'

'Shit. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I heard some more about this guy. He was an active contributor to NORAID. Still is, for all my uncle knows.'

I frowned, but I wasn't surprised. NORAID had been raising funds for the IRA for years. A supporter was unlikely to have warm feelings towards a British soldier who had served in Northern Ireland.

'Good luck,' I said.

'Thanks. You'd better go get yourself a cup of coffee.'

I left Craig's office to find Mahoney resting his bulk on a chair outside. His bright blue eyes shot up when he saw me.

'I'm surprised to see you here, Mr Ayot,' he said in a half-friendly, half-ironic tone.

'Net Cop is one of my companies, you know.'

Ah, yeah, that's right. You and Frank Cook had some kind of disagreement about that, didn't you?'

I didn't answer.

I ignored him and stalked off" to find someone to play table-tennis with. The Net Cop company facilities included a bare room earmarked for future expansion, which housed a table-tennis table and a competition ladder prominently displayed on a whiteboard. Craig dreamed of a weights room, but the company would need to get a lot bigger before he could justify it.

Mahoney was in a long time. I lost three straight games of table-tennis. These coders were bloody good. And my concentration was poor. I wondered what Craig and Mahoney were talking about in there. Mahoney and his men had been doing a lot of leg work. Had they found anything else that would incriminate me? It wouldn't take much more to get me arrested. I hoped Craig wouldn't give them anything.

Eventually I heard the sounds of Mahoney leaving. Craig came looking for me, and led me back to his office, via the kitchen, where he grabbed a large cup of decaf cappuccino. I had a cup of tea.

'What happened?' I asked.

'Well, you were right. When he saw me he did ask if I was the person with the camera seen down by the marsh. I told him I was. I figured there was no point lying about something he could easily check on.'

I nodded my agreement. 'So what did he ask you?'

'What I was doing there with a camera.'

'And what did you say?'

'I told him the truth. I said I was following Frank because he'd turned down Net Cop and I hoped I might find something to use as leverage. I said it was a long shot, but I was so mad it was the only thing I could think of.'

'Did he buy that?'

'Not at first. He tried to tell me I'd murdered Frank. Not directly, but he implied it. He made me go through my story backwards and forwards. I told him the same thing every time. And I explained that it would be dumb to kill Frank. What I needed to do was to change his mind. If he died, then the "no" would still stand. Which is what happened, right?'

'Did you say you saw me?'

'Yes. He liked that bit.'

I smiled grimly. 'And John Chalfont?'

'Yep. I figured if he knew about him and Frank anyway, it was best to tell the truth.'

'Did he ask for the photos?'

'Yep. I gave them to him. And the negatives.'

'Was there one of me?'

'Of course. I got a picture of you arriving.'

'But not leaving?'

'As I said, I left right after you arrived.'

'Great.'

'Sorry, Simon.'

I waited for Diane with trepidation. The bar at Sonsie's was full of young professionals and wealthy students limbering up for a Friday night on the town. Rather them than me. I had considered cancelling, but there was no point. Diane had to be faced some time.

She arrived only a couple of minutes after me.

'Hi,' she said, as she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Her scent overwhelmed me, reminding me of her apartment, the music, the whisky, her.

'Hi.' My throat was tight.

I ordered her a beer to go with mine. She seemed relaxed and confident in a bright blue suit with a tight short skirt. I didn't feel relaxed and confident at all.

'How have you been?' she asked.

'Busy. Running around trying to find out who killed Frank.'

'Have you got anywhere?'

'It's a case of the more I find out the more questions there are unanswered.'

'What about the police?'

'Oh, they're getting somewhere. Closer and closer towards arresting me.'

Diane smiled sympathetically and touched my hand. It was just a gentle pressure, but it sent a shock through my whole body. 'You've had a tough time.'

I nodded stiffly.

'Has Lisa come back?'

'No,' I said, pulling my hand away. 'But I really wish she would. I miss her.'

Diane withdrew her own hand and watched me.

I took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry about the other night. I almost did something I didn't want to do. No, no, that's not right, I wanted to do it at the time.' I paused to get the words right. 'I mean, something I shouldn't have even started. I want Lisa back very badly. And I'm not going to make the same mistake again.'

I watched Diane for a reaction. For a long moment she remained still. Then she spoke in a low, reasonable voice. 'I guess that says it. But if she's stupid enough to let you go, then she has only herself to blame. I like you, Simon. I think we could be good together. Just remember that.'

'Sorry,' I said. I didn't know whether Diane was putting a brave face on her rejection, whether she didn't care one way or the other, whether she was trying to show her interest without scaring me off, or whether, in fact, she just meant what she said. That was the trouble with Diane. You never really knew.

'So, what are we going to do about Revere?' she asked.

'We?'

'Yes. You and me.'

'I don't think I have much of a future there, Diane.'

'That's baloney. They'll find Frank's murderer eventually, and you'll be in the clear. Gil will retire, Art will be out of it, which leaves me.'

Diane's confidence was good to hear, although I wasn't even sure I'd be out of jail when Gil retired, let alone back at Revere.

'Lynette Mauer has told me she'll continue to invest in Revere, as long as I'm in charge.'

'Well done,' I said.

'Has Gil spoken to you?' she asked.

'Yes. He took me for a drink at his club last night,' I said.

She smiled. 'I know. What did he say?'

'Don't you know that too?'

'I'm well informed, but not that well informed.'

'He wanted me to promise I would back whoever took over, whether it's you or someone else. He seemed to have discounted Art.'

Diane's eyebrows shot up. 'Someone else?'

'Yes. He's talking about perhaps getting in an experienced venture capitalist from outside to take over the firm.'

Diane frowned. 'Hmm.'

'You'd better move quickly.'

'Maybe I should.'

We finished our beers in silence as Diane's brain whirred. I was thinking about how much I could trust her. I really didn't know.

We left the bar, and Diane set off on foot back to her apartment, while I grabbed a passing cab. It was still only eight o'clock when I arrived home.

I knew that I should appreciate my liberty, since it was looking ever more likely that I would soon lose it. But I was finding the waiting very hard.

I surveyed the apartment, empty without Lisa and her things. I hadn't heard from her since she had left for California. I didn't even know where she was staying: Kelly wouldn't tell me, and neither would her mother, whom I had called twice. I'd even tried her brother's number, only to be told I had dialled incorrectly. He must have moved. I had called Information, but they didn't seem to know anything about him.

I couldn't face the rest of the evening alone in my own apartment, wrestling with Frank, the police, Lisa and Diane. So I went out to the Red Hat. Kieran was there with a couple of the boys. The beer, friendship and laughter helped.

I came home late, and a little drunk. The answering machine was winking. One message.

'Hi, Simon, it's John. It's about eight thirty. I think I've got something on BioOne you might find interesting. Can you come round to my place tomorrow evening, and we can talk about it? Say about eight? Give me a call. 'Bye.'

It was too late to call him back, so I tumbled into bed, and fell asleep.