Victor asked.
“Usually,” VJ answered. “I play a few games, then I range around in the files, mostly Personnel and Purchasing, sometimes the research files, but those are harder to crack.”
“But why?” asked Victor.
“I just want to learn as much as I can about the company,”
VJ said. “Someday I want to run it like you. You’ve always encouraged me to use the computer. I won’t do it anymore if you don’t want me to.”
“In future, I think it would be better if you don’t,”
Victor said.
“Okay,” VJ said simply. “Can I go back to my movie?”
“Sure,” Victor said.
VJ pushed away from the table and disappeared through the door. Instantly, the soundtrack for Sheer Terror was back on.
Marsha looked at Victor. Victor shrugged. Then the doorbell sounded.
“Sorry to bother you folks so late,” Sergeant Cerullo said after Victor had opened the door. “This is Sergeant Dempsey from the Lawrence police.” The second officer stepped from behind Cerullo and touched the brim of his hat in greeting.
He was a freckled fellow with bright red hair.
“We have some information for you and we wanted to ask a few questions,” Cerullo said.
Victor invited the men inside. They stepped in and removed their hats.
“Would you like some coffee or anything?” Marsha asked.
“No, thank you, ma’am,” Cerullo said. “We’ll just say what we come to say and be off. You see, we at the North Andover police station are pretty friendly with the men over in Lawrence, both being neighbors and all. There’s a lot of talk that goes back and forth. Anyway, they have been proceeding with the investigation of that mass murder over there involving the Gephardt family, the one Dr. Frank here discovered. Well, they found some rough drafts of the notes that you people got tied to your cat and around that brick.
They were in the Gephardt house. We thought you’d like to know that.”
“I should say,” Victor said with some relief.
Dempsey coughed to clear his throat. “We also have ascertained by ballistics that the guns used to kill the Gephardts match those used in several battles between some rival South American drug gangs. We got that from Boston.
Boston is very interested to find out what the connection is up here in Lawrence. They’ve some reason to believe something big is going down up here. What they want to know from you, since you employed Gephardt, is how the man was connected to the drug world. Do you people have any idea whatsoever?”
“Absolutely none,” Victor said. “I suppose you know the man was under investigation for embezzlement?”
“Yeah, we got that,” Dempsey said. “You’re sure there’s nothing else that you can give us? Boston is really eager to learn anything they can about this.”
“We also think the man had been fencing laboratory equipment,” Victor said. “That investigation had just started before he was killed. But for however much I suspected him of these sorts of crimes, it never occurred to me he was involved with drugs.”
“If anything occurs to you, we’d appreciate it if you’d call us immediately. We sure don’t want some drug war breaking out up here.”
The policemen left. Victor closed the door and leaned his back on it and looked at Marsha.
“Well, that solves one problem,” Victor said. “At least now we know where the harassment was coming from, and better still, that it isn’t going to continue.”
“I’m glad they came by to let us know we can stop worrying,” Marsha added. “Maybe we should send that security man home.”
“I’ll cancel in the morning,” Victor said. “I’m sure we’ll be paying for it one way or another.”
Victor sat bolt upright with such suddenness that he inadvertently pulled all the covers from Marsha. The sudden movement awakened her. It was pitch dark outside.
“What’s the matter?” Marsha asked, alarmed.
“I’m not sure,” Victor said. “I think it was the front doorbell.”
They both listened for a moment. All Marsha heard was the wind under the eaves and the rat-a-tat of rain against the windows.
Marsha leaned over and turned the bedside clock so that she could see the face. “It’s five-fifteen in the morning,”
she said. She fell back against the pillow and pulled the covers back over her. “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”
But just then the doorbell rang. “It was the bell!” Victor said, leaping out of bed. “I knew I wasn’t dreaming.” He hastily pulled on his robe, but had the wrong arm in the wrong hole. Marsha turned on the light.
“Who on earth could it be?” Marsha asked. “The police again?”
Victor got the robe on properly and tied the belt. “We’ll soon find out,” he said, opening the door to the hall. He walked quickly to the head of the stairs and started down.
After a moment of indecision, Marsha put her feet out on the cold floor and donned her robe and put on her slippers as well. By the time she got downstairs, a man and woman were standing in the front hall facing Victor. Small pools of water had formed at their feet, and their faces were streaked with moisture. The woman was holding a spray can. The man was holding the woman.
“Marsha!” Victor called, not taking his eyes from the new arrivals. “I think you’d better call the police.”
Marsha came up behind Victor, clutching her robe around her. She glanced at the people. The man was wearing an oilcloth hooded cape, although the hood had been pushed back, exposing his head. All in all, he looked dressed in a ski parka that had long since soaked through.
“This is Mr. Peter Norwell,” Victor said. “He’s from Able Protection.”
“Evening, ma’am,” Peter said.
“And this is Sharon Carver,” Victor said, motioning toward the woman. “An ex-Chimera employee with a sexual-harassment suit lodged against us.”
“She was set to paint your garage door,” Peter elaborated.
“I let her do one short burst so we’d have something on her besides trespassing.”
Feeling somewhat embarrassed for the bedraggled woman, Marsha hurried to the nearest phone and called the North Andover police. The operator said they’d send a car right over.
Meanwhile, the whole group went into the kitchen where Marsha made tea for everyone. Before they’d had more than a few sips, the doorbell sounded again. Victor went to the door. It was Widdicomb and O’Connor.
“You folks are certainly keeping us busy,” Sergeant Widdicomb said with a smile. They stepped through the door and took off their wet coats.
Peter Norwell brought Sharon Carver from the kitchen.
“So this is the young lady?” Widdicomb said. He took out a pair of handcuffs.
“You don’t have to handcuff me, for Christ’s sake!” Sharon snapped.
“Sorry, miss,” Widdicomb said. “Standard procedure.”
Within a few moments, all was ready. The police then left with their prisoner.
“You are welcome to finish your tea,” Marsha said to Peter, who was standing in the foyer.
“Thank you, ma’am, but I already finished. Good night.”
The security man let himself out the door and pulled it shut behind him. Victor threw the deadbolt and turned into the room.
Marsha looked at him. She smiled and shook her head in disbelief. “If I read this in a book, I wouldn’t believe it,”
she said.
“It’s a good thing we kept that security,” Victor said.
