Here’s another one. Look, the hacker’d logged into Personnel and Purchasing. God, this makes me sick. We’ve been having some problems with files and I wonder if this kid is the source. I think we’d better change your password right away.”
“But then we stand less chance of catching him. I don’t use my password much anyway. Why don’t we keep watch on Friday evenings and see if we can trace him. You can do that, can’t you?”
“It’s possible,” Louis agreed, “if the kid stays on line long enough and the telephone people are standing by.”
“See if you can arrange it,” Victor said.
“I’ll try. There’s only one thing that’s worse than a meddlesome hacker and that’s a computer virus. But in this case I’ll put my money on the hacker.”
As Victor left the computer center, he thought he’d better check up on VJ. Given the day’s developments he thought he better warn him to stay away from Hurst and even Ronald Beekman.
The first place Victor looked was the lab, but Robert had not seen him or Philip all day. Nor had any of the other technicians. This surprised Victor, since VJ spent most of his time trying out the various microscopes and other equipment. Victor decided to try the cafeteria. Since it was late afternoon there were only a few scattered people having coffee. Victor talked with the manager, who was busy closing out the cash registers. He’d seen VJ around lunchtime, but not since then.
Leaving the cafeteria, Victor stopped in the library, which was in the same building. The circular cement columns that had been added for structural support had been left in plain sight, giving the area a Gothic feeling. The stacks of books and periodicals were shoulder height, affording a view of the entire room. A comfortable reading area to the right looked out over the inner courtyard of the complex.
When Victor asked the librarian if she’d seen VJ or Philip, she shook her head no. With rising concern, Victor checked out the gym and day-care center. No VJ and no Philip.
Returning to his lab prepared to call security, Victor found a message from the manager of the cafeteria, saying VJ
and Philip had come in for ice cream.
Victor went to the cafeteria. He found the two sitting at a table near the window.
“All right, you two,” Victor said with mock anger. “Where the devil have you been?”
VJ turned to look at his father. He had his spoon in his mouth upside down. Philip, obviously thinking that Victor was angry, stood up, with his large, shovellike hands not knowing what to do with themselves.
“We’ve been around,” VJ said evasively.
“Where?” Victor challenged. “I’ve looked high and low for you.”
“We were down by the river for a while,” VJ admitted.
“I thought I told you to stay away from the river.”
“Oh, come on, Dad,” VJ said. “We weren’t doing anything dangerous.”
“I would never let anything bad happen to VJ,” Philip said in his childlike voice.
“I don’t imagine you would,” Victor said, suddenly impressed by what a powerfully built man Philip was. He and VJ were an improbable pair, but Victor certainly appreciated Philip’s loyalty to his son. “Sit down,” Victor said more kindly. “Finish your ice cream.”
Pulling up a chair himself, Victor turned to his son. “I want you to be especially careful around here for a while.
After that brick last night, I’m sure you’ve guessed that there are some problems.”
“I’ll be all right,” VJ said.
“I’m sure you will,” Victor agreed. “But a little prudence won’t hurt. Don’t say anything to anybody, but keep your eyes open when Beekman or Hurst are around, okay?”
“Okay,” VJ said.
“And you,” Victor said to Philip. “You can act as VJ’s unofficial bodyguard. Can you do that?”
“Oh, yes, Dr. Frank,” Philip said with alacrity.
“In fact . . .” Victor said, knowing Marsha would appreciate the idea, “why don’t you come and spend a few nights with us like you used to when VJ was little. Then you can be with VJ even in the evenings.”
“Thank you, Dr. Frank,” Philip said with a smile that exposed most of his large teeth. “I’d like that very much.”
“Then it’s settled,” Victor said, getting to his feet.
“I’ve got to get back to the office; I’ve been running around all day. We’ll probably be leaving in a couple of hours. We can stop by Philip’s to pick up his things on the way home.”
Both VJ and Philip waved at Victor with their ice cream spoons.
Marsha was just taking the groceries out of the bag when she heard Victor’s car come up the drive. As Victor waited for the automatic garage door to rise, Marsha noticed a third head in the back seat and groaned. She’d only bought six small lamb chops.
Two minutes later they came into the kitchen. “I’ve invited Philip to stay with us for a few days,” Victor said.
“I thought with all the excitement around here it would be good to have some muscle in the house.”
“Sounds good,” Marsha said, but then she added, “I hope that’s not in lieu of professional security.”
Victor laughed. “Not quite.” Turning to VJ and Philip, he said, “Why don’t you two hit the pool?”
VJ and Philip disappeared upstairs to change.
Victor moved as if to kiss Marsha, but she was back to digging in the grocery bag. Then she stepped around him to put something in the pantry. He could tell she was still angry and, given the previous evening’s events, he knew she had good reason to be.
“Sorry about Philip; it was a last-minute idea,” he said.
“But I don’t think we’ll have any more bricks or calls, anyway. I phoned the people who might have threatened us and laid it on the line.”
“Then how come Philip?” asked Marsha, coming back from the pantry.
“Just an added precaution,” Victor said. Then, to change the subject, he added: “What’s for dinner?”
“Lamp chops—and we’ll have to stretch them,” Marsha said, looking at Victor out of the corner of her eye. “Why do I have the feeling that you’re still keeping things from me?”
“Must be your suspicious nature,” Victor said, even though he knew she was in no mood for teasing. “What else besides lamp chops?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
“Artichokes, rice, and salad.” It was obvious that he was covering something, but she let it go.
“What can I do?” Victor asked, washing his hands at the kitchen sink. It was generally their habit to share the preparation of the evening meal since they both worked long hours. Marsha told him to rinse the salad greens.
“I talked with VJ this morning about his friend Richie,”
Victor said. “He’s going to ask him to go to Boston to a day’s outing this week so I don’t think it’s fair to say that VJ doesn’t have any friends.”
“I hope it happens,” Marsha said noncommittally.
As she put the rice and artichokes on to cook, she continued to watch Victor out of the corner of her eye. She was hoping that he’d volunteer some information about the two unfortunate babies, but he fussed over the salad in silence.
Exasperated, Marsha asked: “Any news about the cause of death of the children?”
Victor turned to face her. “I looked at the inserted gene in VJ as well as in the Hobbs and Murray kids. In the toddlers it appeared overtly abnormal, like it was actively transcribing, but in VJ it looked absolutely quiet. What’s more,” he added, “I got out some photos of the same gene back when VJ’s intelligence dropped. Even then it didn’t look anything like these kids’. So whatever VJ had, it wasn’t the same problem.”
Marsha gave a sigh of relief. “That’s good news. Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“I just got home,” Victor said. “And I’m telling you.”
“You could have called,” Marsha said, convinced he was still hiding something. “Or brought it up without my asking.”
