whipped about the alleyways, kicking up dust and debris, forcing Victor to lower his head. At last he reached the entrance to the clock tower building.
Victor hesitated at the entranceway. He was not the type to be spooked, but the place was so desolate and dark that he felt a little bit afraid. Again, he would have liked to use the flashlight, but again it would have been a giveaway if anybody happened to see the glow.
Victor felt his way in the dark, tapping his foot ahead gingerly before taking a step. He was deep into the first floor level, close to the trapdoor, when he felt the flutter of wings right at his face. He cried out in surprise, then realized he’d only disturbed a bevy of pigeons that had made the deserted clock tower building their roost.
Victor took a deep breath and moved on. With relief, he reached the trapdoor, only to realize he didn’t know how to raise it. He tried in various locations to get a grip on the floorboards with his fingernails, but he couldn’t get it to lift.
In frustration, Victor turned on the flashlight to survey the area. He had no choice. On the floor among the other trash was a short metal rod. He picked it up and returned to the trapdoor. Without much trouble, he was able to pry it open about an inch. As soon as he did, it rose effortlessly.
Victor quickly eased himself down the stairs far enough to allow the trapdoor to close above him. It was dark in the lab save for the beam of his flashlight. Victor searched for the panel that would turn on the lights. He found it under the stairs and flipped the switches. As the room filled with fluorescent light, Victor breathed a sigh of relief.
He decided to examine a lab area VJ hadn’t shown him, a room he’d been fairly dismissive of even when Victor questioned him.
But he never made it to the door. He was about fifteen feet away when the door to the living quarters burst open and an attack dog came snarling at him. Victor leaped back, throwing his arms up to guard his face. He closed his eyes and braced for the contact.
But there wasn’t any. Victor opened his eyes cautiously.
The vicious dog had been brought up short by a chain held by a Chimera security guard.
“Thank God!” Victor cried. “Am I glad to see you!”
“Who are you?” the man demanded, his heavy accent clearly Spanish.
“Victor Frank,” Frank said. “I’m one of the officers of Chimera. I’m surprised you don’t recognize me. I’m also VJ’s father.”
“Okay,” the guard said. The dog growled.
“And your name?” Victor asked.
“Ramirez,” the guard said.
“I’ve never met you,” Victor said. “But I’m glad you were on the other end of that chain.” Victor started for the door.
Ramirez grabbed his arm to restrain him.
Surprised by this, Victor stared at the man’s hand wrapped around his arm. Then he looked him in the eye and said, “I just told you who I am. Would you please let go of me?”
Victor tried to sound stern, but he already felt Ramirez had the best of the situation.
The dog growled. His bared teeth were inches away from Victor.
“I’m sorry,” said Ramirez, not sounding sorry at all. “No one is allowed through that door unless VJ specifically says it is okay.”
Victor examined Ramirez’s expression. There was no doubt the man meant what he said. Victor wondered what to do in this ridiculous situation. “Maybe we should call your supervisor, Mr. Ramirez,” Victor said evenly.
“This is the graveyard shift,” Ramirez said. “I’m the supervisor.”
They stared at each other for another minute. Victor was convinced of the man’s intransigence and of the dog’s power of persuasion. “Okay!” he said. Ramirez relaxed his grip and pulled the dog away.
“In that case I’ll be leaving,” Victor said, keeping an eye on the dog. Victor decided that he would see to Ramirez in the morning. He’d take the matter up with VJ.
Victor left the way he’d come in. Stopping at the gate to exit, he called the guard over to his car. “How long has a Ramirez been on the guard staff?” he asked.
“Ramirez?” the guard questioned. “There isn’t any Ramirez on the force.”
13
Monday Morning
THE atmosphere at breakfast was anything but normal.
Marsha had promised herself as she took her morning shower that she would act as if everything was fine, but she found it impossible. When VJ appeared for breakfast about fifteen minutes behind schedule, she told him he’d better hurry since it was a school day. She knew she was baiting him, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Now that the secret is out,” VJ said, “I think it is rather ridiculous for me to go to school and pretend to be interested and absorbed in fifth-grade work.”
“But I thought it was important to maintain your anonymity,” Marsha persisted.
VJ glanced toward his father for support, but Victor calmly drank his coffee. He was staying out of it.
“At this point, going to school or not going to school will in no way affect my anonymity,” VJ said coldly.
“The law says you must go to school,” said Marsha.
“There are higher laws,” VJ retorted.
Marsha wasn’t going to make a stand alone. “Whatever you and Victor decide is fine with me,” she told them. She left for work before learning Victor’s decision.
“She is going to be trouble,” VJ warned once she was gone.
“She needs a little more time,” Victor said. “But you might have to come to some compromise on the school issue.”
“I don’t see why. It’s not going to help my work. If anything, it will slow things down. Aren’t results more important?”
“They’re important,” said Victor, “but they’re not everything. Now, how do you want to get to Chimera today? You want to ride with me?”
“Nope,” said VJ. “I want to take my bike. Is it all right for Philip to use yours?”
“Sure,” Victor said. “I’ll see you in your lab about midmorning. I’ll need the details on the implantation protein for the legal department to start the patent application. I also want to see the rest of your lab as well as the new lab.” Victor didn’t mention the episode with Ramirez earlier that morning.
“Fine,” VJ said. “Just be careful about coming. I don’t want any other visitors.”
Fifteen minutes later, VJ was plunging down Stanhope Street with the wind whistling past his head. Philip was right behind him on Victor’s bike, and behind Philip was Pedro in his Ford Taurus.
VJ told Philip and Pedro to wait for him outside when he went into the bank with his saddlebags. Luckily Mr. Scott was occupied with another customer, and VJ was able to use his safe deposit box for another large deposit without getting a lecture.
Victor’s ride to work was not as carefree. Although he tried to think of other things, his mind was haunted by Marsha’s words: “For an extremely rare cancer, a lot of people seem to be contracting it. People who cross VJ.”
Victor was wondering just how he’d feel if Marsha contracted it. Just how was VJ prepared to handle trouble?
Despite his apprehensions, Victor was fueled by enthusiasm for the new implantation protein project. He tackled the laborious administrative details that had accumulated by Monday morning with a good deal more equanimity than usual.
He welcomed the busywork; it kept his mind from wandering.
Colleen came in with her usual stack of messages and situations needing attention. Victor had her go through them rapidly before making any decisions, half hoping for some kind of communication that would suggest blackmail
