She laughed. “Like what are you going to do? Protect me?”
I turned and shot her a look that sent her vaulting up the stairs and through the door before I could turn back to the van. When I’d seen her wave from the balcony I pulled out slowly from my spot, passed the van, and turned right at the first cross street. Just around the corner I glanced back to see the van pull out too. Of course, on the narrow Kitsilano streets he couldn’t turn around: obviously an amateur. Five blocks later I’d lost him.
I drove for several more blocks, keeping my eyes on the rearview mirror and side streets, and when I was sure he was off my tail I headed uphill toward King Edward, a main artery that runs up the spine of the point. Once there, I turned off into a cozy neighbourhood of perfect wooden houses on small, manicured lawns. I moved slowly along until I found the number I wanted.
The street was dark and the sidewalks deserted. The wind had come up and the maples lining the street shook and swayed, their restless leaves making the light from the street lamps scurry about on the pavement. I got out of my car, locked the door behind me, and crossed to the house.
The lights on the first floor were off, but the second floor was lit. A set of stairs ran up the side of the house, and I took them two at a time. They ended in a small landing and a hunter green door with a window that looked across a neat little kitchen. I banged on the door, not loud enough to wake the elderly couple who owned the place, but loud enough to get their upstairs tenant off the couch and to the door.
Except that nobody heeded the call. I frowned and tried again. Then I noticed the boxes. Elaine must have removed the important files from her office after this morning’s break-in. I tried knocking one more time, then I slipped on my gloves, pulled out my lock picks, and let myself in the door.
I worked quickly, with the light out and my flashlight on. I went through the boxes, pulling out any files that related to Elaine’s current olfaction work and scanning them. Mostly it was data, test solution numbers, single cell recording data, Y-maze results, not anything I could use. Then I hit the big one: a research proposal, submitted to Madden Riesler, for a joint study on salmon olfaction.
“Yes!” I said, and I stood up with the file open in my hand.
“Find something you like?”
I turned.
Elaine was standing in the doorway.
chapter fourteen
“Arm’s length?” I said, pushing the file toward her.
“Pretty short arms, I’d say.”
She covered the space between the door and the table in two quick strides, snatched up the file, and held it to her chest. “This is trespassing, O’Brien.”
“Actually, it’s break and enter. Why did you lie about this?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions. You’re not the police.” She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
“You don’t want to talk about Riesler?” I shrugged. “Okay, we’ll let him go for now. How about Jonathan Edwards? Nice guy, by the way. Too bad it didn’t work out. So why’s he out of the department, Elaine? What’s the big secret?”
“That’s it. I’m calling the police.” She aimed for the phone.
“Go ahead. I can formalize this investigation at any point. All it takes is a call to the Dean.”
She whirled around. “He used me.” “Are you so sure?” I reached down and pulled out Connell’s publication record from my briefcase. “Jonathan asked me to show you this. Actually, he begged me to show it to you.”
At first she didn’t take it. She turned stony-faced to the wall, but I knew her weak points. “What’s the matter, Elaine. Afraid you might find out you were wrong?”
She gave me the evil eye and yanked the paper from my hands. “You’re wasting my time.”
“Just read it.”
She sat down reluctantly. I got up and found myself a glass in the cupboard. There was almost nothing of interest in the fridge, typical Elaine, so I opted for a glass of water. Leaning against the sink I watched her expression change from annoyance to incomprehension to horror. By the time she pushed the paper forward to stare at the table she was pale.
I spoke gently. “Is that why Jonathan was forced to leave? Because you accused him of stealing your data?” She glanced up at me and the answer was clear in her eyes. I nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
“Oh God.” She covered her face with her hands. “And was Madden involved?” “He didn’t want Jonathan’s career ruined. He had him moved to Natural Resources.”
That was interesting. Was he hoping to get Edwards to retract his complaint? A you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours arrangement. If that was the case it hadn’t worked. But then why should it? Edwards hadn’t done anything wrong. Or maybe Madden just wanted to keep everything as quiet and orderly as possible while he waited for Ottawa to bury the investigation. I’d have to work that one out later.
I looked at Elaine sitting at the table. She was almost on the point of tears — an unthinkable state for her — and it made my job easier. “Okay,” I said softly, “so let me lay out my problem. I’ve got Graham making a name for himself by ripping off other people’s work. I’ve got JJ who controls the Network funds and happens to have a taste for high-risk gambling. I’ve got Riesler, who seems to be using a foreign aid grant to fund research on olfaction. And don’t forget Jonathan Edwards, whom everyone was happy to accuse of theft, and who just happens to be missing two hundred thousand dollars from his research budget. Now you tell me, what’s a girl to do?”
With a great effort Elaine lifted her head. Despite the remorse there was still a sharp edge to her voice. “What do you want from me?”
“Preferably your help.” “Madden’s not doing anything wrong. It’s all aboveboard.”
“Then it won’t hurt to take a look, will it?” “Take a look? At what?” “The financial records, and,” I put out my hand, “I’ll be needing your pass-key.”
She shook her head, first slowly, then vigorously. Then, just to confirm the message (in case it wasn’t coming through loud and clear), she added, “No way. Not in a million years.”
I shrugged. “Then my investigation has just officially spilled over into your lab. Fisheries Enterprises International? That’s the funding consortium? First thing tomorrow morning I’ll contact the Dean of Research, we’ll subpoena your — “
“Stop!” Then, in a voice already resigned to the future, “If you’re caught I’ll lose my job.”
“You’ll lose it anyway if I’m forced to go through official channels. If it’s any consolation, I think Riesler’s clean. My bets are on JJ or Graham, but I have to see the records to know for sure.”
She pulled a key ring from her pocket, took off a key, and handed it to me. I slipped it into my pocket.
“What about Graham?” she asked, nodding to the paper on the table. “What are you going to do about that?”
“When this is over I’ll report it. Best case scenario is that he’s out on his ass with the job prospects of a toad but — I’ve got to be honest with you — it’s more likely he’ll walk out of here into another position, nobody will check his references, and he’ll start the whole thing over again.” I sighed. “It’s happened before. Unless you and some of the others decide