The Black Silent

CHAPTER 9

They were proceeding along the water on the south side of the island while Haley called Sarah on her cell. Sam's own cell rang in the middle of the conversation. It was Ernie, of the FBI.

"I have a new boss and he's not real into meddling in your situation," Ernie began. "I guess he's impressed that Frick's an eyewitness to the murder of Officer Crew Wentworth. I told him that was bunk and that you would murder no one, and that sort of moved him back to center on the thing. Just to let you know the situation, I still can't be real aggressive on this like I could if the boss really believed your side of this. I gotta work with it, you know. I called the state police and it's a damn holiday, but they will get an assistant attorney general, they say. By Monday they'll be in full swing. They've called deputies on the island that they know and they say you killed Wentworth. And uh…"

"What?"

"You met my boss once in New York," Ernie said. "I guess you were trying to get some movement by the bureau on something. Anyway, you'd recall him as Special Agent Arnold Cross."

"Say no more. I understand," Sam said. "Does he still go around with a telephone pole up his alimentary canal?"

"Pretty much. And his daddy is a senator, so that doesn't hurt. If you were still in business, you'd be using 'Big Brain,' I suspect."

"I suspect you're right," Sam said. Ernie was talking about a supercomputer that Sam had used frequently in his previous life.

"So I, ah," Ernie's voice went quieter, "sort of ignored the boss

… insubordination really… and got Grogg on a conference call. He connected to Big Brain remotely and we did a lot of checking real fast."

"I'm impressed," Sam said, smiling for the first time since this ordeal began. "And grateful." For a moment the sun burst through the clouds.

"It seems that Sanker Corp is in a merger deal with American Bayou Technologies," said Ernie. "They're both heavyweights, and the deal started friendly, but it couldn't stay that way because they're both predatory. Management of one won't live with the management of the other. Someone is going to win and someone is going to lose. Up until recently, Sanker thought they were certain to win. Maybe American Bayou knew something Sanker didn't. Now Sanker desperately needs a bump up in its stock price.

Stock price will decide who ends up with the controlling interest in the conglomerate.

Does anything you're dealing with have the potential to affect Sanker's stock price?"

"Yes. To say the least. In fact, one press release could do it." Sam gave Ernie a thumbnail description of the possible range and impact of Ben's work. "Of course, we don't know if this 'fountain of youth' discovery is all that potent. Or even real," he added.

"But just a good story would do it," Ernie completed the thought. "I get it. I wish I could call Cross on this, but, of course, I can't, because officially I don't know what you just told me, about the fountain of youth-thing. We never had this call. Somehow, though, I'll find a way to run across the information, and when I do, then I'll tell him."

"You're a good man, Ernie. You make me feel lucky."

"I'm touched by your compliment."

"Good. I have one more favor."

"Uh-oh. With you it's always the second favor that costs me."

Sam asked Haley if she had a home fax; fortunately, she did.

"Please fax me the memo about Frick."

"Are you out of your mind? That's FBI property."

"It could be critical in trying to bring in the Washington State Police."

In the long silence that followed, Sam could sense Ernie's stress.

"I must be losing my mind."

"Thanks, Ernie. I'll be careful with it. I wish I had a choice, but they want to put me in jail. We do have a dead officer."

Haley had ended her call with Sarah, so Sam filled her in.

"Sanker is merging with American Bayou, as you know."

"I don't really understand it."

"It means the strongest guy wins. The old man and all his henchmen could completely lose control of Sanker because their stock price tanked."

"When I told the truth about my new strain of sea grass, they screamed about the stock price. I just didn't know it was such a big deal for Sanker."

"They tell me the work you did was brilliant, coming up with the new strain of sea grass. What all does it do that's good?"

"Makes cheap protein. Feeds people. Has a lot of pharmaceutical applications like so many things from the sea. Immune-system drugs." Haley sighed as if wistfully remembering when she was at the height of her glory. "The issue was that the sea grass is host to a whole little universe of life. When I genetically altered it, you know, you change the house, you could change the inhabitants. I wasn't saying we couldn't use it, for God's sake. I'm not like one of these nuts who says we can't use genetically improved corn. I said we need to study it before going hog-wild on production. The seaweed seemed to be functioning differently after the genetic change. The single-celled organisms weren't acting the same. I wanted time to study it. Evidently Sanker was desperate about their stock price and wanted a big announcement."

"So McStott and Frick concocted the scheme to make it look like it was mostly his work, and that you stole it."

"That's it. Of course, McStott had no concern about the sea grass's effect on the environment. Frick and McStott saw to it that my article with the warnings was never published. Instead, they published an article touting the discovery. But they had no credibility because some university people cried foul. And see, that also hurt my credibility. It was a mess."

"You couldn't show it was your discovery and that these guys were jumping the gun with it?"

"Well, it's long and complicated, but McStott and I shared the same file-server computer. We did collaborate. He just had nothing to do with the creation of this strain of sea grass. They switched our lab notes. Hell, there are all kinds of things going on that only the scientists involved really understand when it comes to knowing who does what." She let out a long breath. "And there was one other problem. Like an idiot, I trusted McStott and against the rules I gave him my computer pass code. You're never supposed to do that. So when I started saying he stole and that I gave him my pass code.. well, that was considered stupid, and on and on."

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "He betrayed you."

"In a very personal way."

"The merger also explains why they'd go after Ben now," Sam said. "Especially since he was getting ready to leave the foundation."

Sam pulled over about one hundred yards from her drive.

"Where can we hide the car?" he asked.

"Up ahead on the left there's an overgrown orchard and a shack. Nobody lives there. It's actually on Ben's forty acres."

Sam pulled into the orchard. Trees were old and gnarled, with twisted bark and old wounds.

"Hopefully, they're not here yet," she said, speaking of the police.

"A man as pissed off as Frick? You'd be amazed how fast he might get somebody here."

They hurried through the forest as fast as Sam could manage, back across the road, and into the forest again. As they approached Haley's house, they went more slowly. When they saw no one and no police cruisers, Sam hoped it was only moderately dangerous to duck in the back door.

Haley's fax had the FBI memo from Ernie. Actually, it was an excerpt from an FBI memo and parts had obviously been redacted. But it was better than nothing.

They searched through Haley's garage until they found a tarp, then took it back to the car and covered it completely. People would come by the house and there might soon be planes and helicopters flying overhead.

Haley called the dispatcher on her cell phone and explained that Crew had been shot by Frick, not Sam; that the FBI had been notified; and that the FBI would be making a formal request to keep the evidence pristine and out of Frick's hands.

She asked the dispatcher whether the FBI had called, but the dispatcher refused to confirm or deny such a call. When the dispatcher made the obligatory request that Haley and Sam surrender themselves to a deputy, Haley disconnected.

None of it was surprising, since the dispatcher was following normal police procedure.

They weren't in the habit of collaborating with murder suspects.

Minutes later, they arrived on foot at Ben's house, some two hundred yards from Haley's. Sam had Haley hunker down with him in the trees while he checked for company. It was a large, sprawling home, gray with lap siding and white trim, appearing all the more stylish for the rustic nature of its setting. From his own experience during summertime work, he knew that the gardens had been Helen's inspiration and he was reminded of the sweat and the creative eye in all the curves and the shapes in the various plantings and rows. It was a bit blustery and looking like another shower. The breezes made it anything but quiet. Sam let his eye wander carefully by every leaf and every decorative boulder hauled from the beach. He saw nothing moving, save that which could be moved by the wind, but he remembered Crew and worried for Haley. How could he be sure that there was no one lying in wait? Ben's house was an obvious destination.

Sam could see the back patio from this position, but not the front porch. He first moved to the left, checking out the front-yard area and the gardens and the long drive, which approached up a gradual hill. A large porch sat under an overhang. Nothing there.

Now he moved back to the right and circled behind the house, remaining inside a small patch of trees. On the back patio stood two barbecues and flower boxes with a multitude of plants in full color, maintained by hired help. It would be impossible to completely verify that no one was watching.

They would have to take a chance.

Sam motioned to stay low and led Haley as quickly as his leg would allow over the last open ground between them and the house.

Frick had the safecracker back at work on the wall safe in Ben's office. He had regained his composure and now felt calm and confident. When they had the safe open, it would become simple. With Ben's research in hand, he'd be free to find and kill Ben Anderson

— still difficult, but doable-and that would end the matter.

The safe expert had electronic listening devices splayed across the metal surface.

Numbers had been flashing across a laptop on the desk for at least ten minutes. As Frick watched, the man slowly turned the dial through the sequence for the twentieth time.

Suddenly the numbers on the computer stopped at eighty-seven.

"Uh-huh." The safecracker turned the handle and the safe opened.

Inside stood a handmade sign: Fools rush in where angels dare to tread.

As the technician leaned in, an explosion sent sticky black soot everywhere. The technician took the main force of the blast, covered by a harmless but nasty substance.

Frick was largely unscathed, but that was little comfort. They had bet everything on the escrow; if Ben had fudged that, the research would be in the wall safe.

The safe held nothing else, and the clock was ticking on Frick's life.