‘What about Parnell?’ Grant hurried on.
‘Caught Benn in the elevator a day or two back. Asked him outright what was going on.’
‘What did Russell say?’
‘That it was an experiment that wasn’t working out.’
‘Parnell accept that?’
‘Asked if pharmacogenomics were going to get a look at it. Russ said there wasn’t any point.’
Grant sat silently for a long time, the only sound the increasingly rapid click of his irritated flicking against the paper edge. Finally he said: ‘Is it true, what she said? That it’s the talk of the division?’ There was an unquestionable benefit, repeating the questions he’d already put to Harry Johnson, the security director with whom he was talking, personally and only ever one-to-one, with increasing frequency…
‘It’s not my reading. Or Benn’s. Security – Harry, personally – are tapping all outgoing calls from the floor. I’ve told them we suspect a competitor informer. Rebecca Lang’s the only person who’s shown any interest in France – spoken to Paris, even.’
‘Not Parnell?’
‘No. But they’ve got to be talking, haven’t they? They can’t just screw all the time.’
‘She’s a goddamned nuisance!’ angrily declared the Dubette president, who’d had a contradictory conversation with Harry Johnson, whose professional experience and opinion he trusted more than an amateur like Newton.
‘You think I should officially warn her off?’
‘No!’ refused Grant, still angry. ‘That’ll just make her more curious.’ She certainly had to be stopped. It was not something to discuss with Newton. Not even, he thought, with Johnson. There were special people he employed for special things.
‘What then?’
‘Just finish off what you’ve got to…’ Grant brightened. ‘Looks like France came up with a good one. Had the figures calculated. We stop the piracy, reduce it even, in Africa and Asia, we could save as much as ten million dollars in a full year. And that could even translate into a matching loss to our opposition, if they become the alternative targets. That’s a damned good day’s work…’ There was an abrupt reflective darkening. ‘And why it isn’t going to be jeopardized
…’
‘You want security to go on watching her?’
‘Keep the telephone taps on, throughout the department. Hers particularly. And obviously keep an eye on Parnell. Leave me to worry about everything else. And Dwight…?’
‘Yes?’
‘You’re doing a hell of a good job.’
That morning Newton didn’t make the mistake of trying to leave through the wrong door.
‘Sorry I haven’t got back to you before now,’ apologized Newton.
‘Not a lot for us to discuss so far,’ accepted Parnell.
‘Enough,’ said the vice president. ‘You seem to have everything parcelled up pretty efficiently.’ Newton hadn’t set out intending this meeting. His mind hadn’t gone beyond the New York encounter and what there was to discuss with Edward C. Grant. It was only afterwards, on the return Washington shuttle, when he was still very much thinking of that discussion and Grant’s numbing cynicism during it – and of his openly being named on the security eavesdrop – that the idea came of personally speaking to Parnell. And trying to assess what suspicion or curiosity the Englishman might disclose.
‘Still a long way to go.’ Why the sudden summons, after playing the invisible man?
‘Looks to me like you’re working to an agenda.’
‘Trying to create one that’s practical,’ qualified Parnell. ‘I thought the best initial contribution we might try was on some of the most current research, to complete an entire package.’
Was that a veiled reference to Paris? ‘Sounds a sensible approach. How many have you got in mind?’
Parnell was sure he prevented the frown. ‘Those that I’ve already memoed you about.’
‘Sure,’ said Newton, awkwardly, gesturing to a disordered pile of paper on his desk. ‘You think there’s anything likely?’
‘Nothing that’s leapt out of the petrie dish at us, but then we neither of us expect Archimedes-style discoveries, do we?’
Newton forced the smile, sure the other man was mocking him. ‘Still be nice.’
‘The exchange system appears to be working well, between Russell’s section and mine.’
That had to be a reference to France. ‘Sure you won’t be overwhelmed?’
‘No,’ answered Parnell, honestly. ‘That’s why we’re working to an agenda, trying to keep up to speed with what’s ongoing, allowing space to go back to earlier stuff when we’re able.’
He had to force it along, Newton decided. ‘I’m afraid Russ has been a little preoccupied lately. Me, too.’
‘He told me.’ The quick halt was intentional, to lure Newton into saying more.
‘Turned out to be a waste of time. It’s all being scrapped,’ insisted Newton.
Parnell didn’t believe Newton any more than he’d believed Russell Benn. ‘Gastrointestinal is where pharmacogenomics might have a real place.’
The son of a bitch was trying to trick him! ‘It was respiratory. A decongestant.’
‘Of course! Russell told me. My mistake.’
‘You think of any way things could be improved for you?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Parnell. ‘Might suggest closer contact between Russell and myself in the future. But not yet. The backlog’s too big. You sure there’s no purpose in my having a different look at the respiratory experiments?’
‘None,’ said Newton, positively. ‘That’s a principle I work from here, Dick. We don’t waste time with failed ideas. It doesn’t work, we scrap it, move on.’
‘I’ll remember that,’ said Parnell. What was the point of all this?
‘Maybe we should have lunch together again soon.’
‘Good idea now that you can raise your head from the microscope. I look forward to it.’
Another reference, isolated Newton. ‘We’ll do it real soon.’ There very definitely had to be another early- morning trip to New York – arranged from a public kiosk, he reminded himself. Every phone on the research floor was being security monitored.
From the way the Toyota was parked, Parnell saw the damage when he was still some yards away, despite the twilight. The damage began at the passenger door but was worse on the nearside wing, the dents deep enough to have broken a lot of paint. He looked for a culprit’s note under the windscreen wipers. There wasn’t one.
‘Shit,’ he said. He yanked at the nearside wheel, which felt secure enough. He drove slowly through the near-empty car park, satisfying himself there was no wheel damage before he reached the highway.
In the apartment, he made the single evening drink he allowed himself, a strong gin and tonic, briefly undecided but finally ringing Rebecca.
‘You coming to the house?’ she asked at once.
‘Just wanted to talk.’
‘What about?’
‘Some bastard drove into my car, in the car park.’
‘Did they leave a note?’
‘No such luck.’
‘How bad?’
‘Passenger door and wing. The damage kind of goes around to the front, which is slightly buckled.’
‘You told security?’
‘Not yet.’
‘You should,’ she insisted.
‘I will,’ emptily promised Parnell.
‘Don’t put it off.’
‘I won’t.’
‘I’m looking forward to the weekend.’
