'You could ask his wife. You know how much she likes you. You charmed the panties off her at last year's Christmas party.'
'Oh yes. I just ring her up and say, 'Hello, Mrs Altschule. I just want to check whether your husband murdered my father-in-law. Do you know where he was on Saturday the whatever-it-was of October?''
'Hm,' said Daniel. 'I see your problem.'
'You've worked with Art more than I have. Do you know much about his background?' Daniel was curious to the point of being nosy. I was sure he had picked up much more about the people at Revere than I had, even though we had both been in the firm the same length of time.
'He's known Gil a long time. I think they were at school together.'
'Harvard?'
'Yeah. After that they both went to Vietnam. Gil was in a regular army unit, and Art was in the Marines. I think Art saw some pretty hairy action, and Gil had a relatively quiet time of it.'
'I've heard about the Marines,' I said. Art loved to refer to the service.
'Yes. But he never talks specifically about what happened there. Even when I asked him.'
'I can understand that,' I said. There were one or two things in my own short military career I would rather not discuss.
'I guess so,' said Daniel. 'But it was still kind of strange. You know how Art likes to brag about stuff. I'd have expected a couple of stories about how he took out three gook villages single-handed.'
'I see what you mean.'
Anyway, after Vietnam he got an MBA, and then worked for Digital Equipment in Maynard. Eventually he left there and started some company selling mini-computers. According to him, it did brilliantly well. Although I'm not so sure.'
'Really, why not? Whenever I've heard him talk about it, it sounded like it was the biggest thing since Compaq.'
'He sold the company for something like twelve million bucks to ICX Computers. But once ICX got in there they found they had bought a can of worms. The accounts were rotten. ICX hit Art and his partner for ten million under the warranties they had given to ICX when they had sold out. Art's partner killed himself. Dark days.'
'Jesus.'
'The story is that Art didn't know anything about it. And I can kind of believe that. There's quite a lot Art doesn't know. Then Art's old buddy Gil started up a VC firm, and asked Art to join him. Art arrived a few months before Frank, I think. Then he had several years mediocre investing until he lucked out on BioOne.'
'Sounds like he and Frank were destined to clash.'
'I'd say it was unavoidable,' said Daniel.
We drank our beer. I thought through other possibilities. 'Gil?' I suggested.
'I don't think so,' said Daniel. 'He's so straight. And they were friends.'
'Besides, why would he do it?'
'No reason I can think of.' Daniel sipped his beer thoughtfully. 'But what about Diane?'
'Diane?' I said. 'Why would she want to kill Frank?'
'I don't know. She seems charming on the surface. But she's cunning. Devious. A skilful political animal.'
'Where did you get that idea?'
'Charlie Dyzart from B-school went to Barnes McLintock. He told me a bit about her.'
'Like what?'
'She was a very good management consultant. She became one of the youngest partners at Barnes McLintock. Certainly the youngest female partner. But she left some collateral damage in her wake.'
'What happened?'
'It seems her boss advised Pan United Airlines to change their image to appear more international and less American. They lost a quarter of their passengers within six months. They tried to sue Barnes McLintock. Diane somehow persuaded Pan United that she had always thought it was a bad idea, and she came up with some smart ways to fix the problem. Barnes McLintock didn't get sued, they kept the client, her boss got fired, and she got promoted. Charlie said the guy didn't stand a chance once Diane had him in her sights.'
'I see.' I remembered Frank had said something about how Diane had broken up a marriage at Barnes McLintock. It was something I had tried to forget. 'She didn't have an affair with him, did she?'
Daniel laughed. 'No, but there was something with an associate,' Charlie said. 'A young guy. Married. He walked out on his wife and left the firm. Then she dropped him a few months later. Everyone knew about it.'
'Hmm.'
Daniel looked at me curiously. 'You'd better watch yourself with Diane, Simon.'
'Oh, come on, Daniel. There's nothing between us. I like her. I respect her. She's a good venture capitalist.'
'She's after you.'
The trouble with Daniel was you could never tell whether he was joking or being serious. But either way I knew he was right.
'I still don't think Diane would kill anyone,' I said. 'That goes way beyond political scheming. No, I think Art is our best bet.'
Daniel allowed the subject to be changed. 'There is one interesting thing about Art,' he said.
'What's that?'
'I think he used to be an alcoholic'
'I've never seen him drink,' I said.
'Precisely,' said Daniel. 'And he doesn't act like the temperance type. In fact he seems more like the hard- drinking type to me.'
'You mean he must have given up?'
'Absolutely. Maybe Vietnam had something to do with it.'
'It must have been horrible.' Nothing in my military experience came close, certainly not Northern Ireland. 'But Art being a former alcoholic doesn't prove anything'
'Except I think he might be back on the booze.'
'Have you seen him drunk?'
'No, but he's called in sick unexpectedly three times in the last three weeks. I know because I had to cover for him. And on Tuesday morning I could swear he smelled of whisky.'
'That's not good. Do you think some recent event might have started him off again?'
'It's a theory,' said Daniel. 'But it's nowhere near as convincing as the theory that you did it.'
'Great,' I said, and drained my beer.
An hour or so later, we left Pete's, mellow but not drunk. The nights were beginning to get cold. Daniel had his raincoat, but I was wearing just my suit. I hunched my shoulders and pushed my hands deep into my pockets. It was late, and it was quiet in the heart of the Financial District.
Two big men in jeans approached us along the narrow sidewalk. We paused to let them pass by. But they didn't pass by. Their eyes locked on Daniel and me.
I heard rapid footsteps behind us. Too late I pulled my hands out of my pockets, too late to prevent a heavy blow to my stomach. The air burst out of my diaphragm, and I doubled up, gasping. Two more punches followed, and I slumped backwards against the wall.
They bundled Daniel into an alleyway. In front of me stood a big hard man, his fists clenched. Daniel was suffering, I heard the blows coming thick and fast. He cried out. My head slowly cleared. The man in front of me was watching me closely, his fists ready to strike again. I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to slump downwards, letting my weight fall on to my right leg. Then I spun round, and thrust my fist upwards with all my strength into the man's face. The blow caught him on the side of the head, and sent him stumbling. I hit him a couple more times, and he staggered backwards into the street.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the other two leave Daniel, and move towards me. I turned to face them.
Then one of them muttered something in a foreign language that sounded like Russian, and they backed off.
