biotechnology/pharmaceutical prize of the twenty-first century. They felt that it would surpass in economic importance the antibiotic bonanza of the twentieth century:
It was the second part of the message that dismayed Hiroshi. It mentioned that the management did not want to take any risks, and that Hiroshi was to call Tanaka Yamaguchi. He was to tell Tanaka to investigate Sean Murphy and act accordingly. If Murphy was considered a threat, he was to be brought to Tokyo immediately.
Folding the fax paper several times lengthwise, Hiroshi held it over the sink and burned it. He washed the ashes down the drain. As he did, he noticed his hands were trembling.
Hiroshi had hoped the directive from Tokyo would have given him peace of mind. But it only left him even more agitated. The fact that Hiroshi’s superiors felt that Hiroshi could not handle the situation was not a good sign. They hadn’t said it directly, but the instruction to call Tanaka said as much. What that suggested to Hiroshi was he was not trusted in matters of crucial importance, and if he wasn’t trusted, then his upward mobility in the Sushita hierarchy automatically was in question. From Hiroshi’s perspective he’d lost face.
Unswervingly obedient despite his growing anxiety, Hiroshi got out the list of emergency numbers he’d been given before coming to Forbes over a year ago. He found the number for Tanaka and dialed. As the phone rang, Hiroshi felt his anger and resentment for the Harvard medical student rise. If the young doctor-to-be had never come to Forbes, Hiroshi’s stature vis-a-vis his superiors would never have been tested this way.
A mechanical beep followed a message in rapid Japanese urging the caller to leave his name and number. Hiroshi did as he was told, but added he would wait for the call back. Hanging up the phone, Hiroshi thought about Tanaka. He didn’t know much about the man, but what he did know was disquieting. Tanaka was a man frequently used by various Japanese companies for industrial espionage of any sort. What bothered Hiroshi was the rumor that Tanaka was connected to the Yakusa, the ruthless Japanese mafia.
When the phone rang a few minutes later, its raucous jangle sounded unnaturally loud in the silence of the deserted lab. Startled by it, Hiroshi had the receiver off the hook before the first ring had completed.
“Moshimoshi,” Hiroshi said much too quickly, betraying his nervousness.
The voice that answered was sharp and piercing like a stiletto. It was Tanaka.
4
When Sean’s eyes blinked open at eight-thirty, he was instantly awake. He snatched up his watch to check the time, and immediately became annoyed with himself. He’d intended to get to the lab early that day. If he was going to give this plan of Janet’s a shot, he’d have to put in more of an effort.
After making himself reasonably decent by pulling on his boxer shorts, he padded down the balcony and gently knocked on Janet’s slider. Her curtains were still closed. After he knocked again harder, her sleepy face appeared behind the glass.
“Miss me?” Sean teased when Janet slid the door open.
“What time is it?” Janet asked. She blinked in the bright light.
“Going on nine,” Sean said. “I’ll be leaving in fifteen or twenty minutes. Want to go together or what?”
“I’d better drive myself,” Janet said. “I’ve got to find an apartment. I only get to stay here a few nights.”
“See you this afternoon,” Sean said. He started to leave.
“Sean!” Janet called.
Sean turned.
“Good luck!” Janet said.
“You too,” Sean said.
As soon as he was dressed, Sean drove over to the Forbes Center and parked in front of the research building. It was just after nine-thirty when he walked in the door. As he did, Robert Harris straightened up from the desk. He’d been explaining something to the guard on desk duty. His expression was somewhere between angry and morose. Apparently the man was never in a good mood.
“Banker’s hours?” Harris asked provocatively.
“My favorite Marine,” Sean said. “Were you able to keep Mrs. Mason out of trouble, or was she desperate enough to take you on a tour of
Robert Harris glared at Sean as Sean leaned against the bar of the turnstile to show his ID to the guard at the desk. But Harris couldn’t think of an appropriate retort fast enough. The guard at the desk released the bar and Sean pushed through.
Unsure how to approach the day, Sean first took the elevator to the seventh floor and went to Claire’s office. He was not looking forward to meeting her since they’d parted on such uncomfortable terms. But he wanted to clear the air.
Claire and her superior shared an office with their desks facing each other. But when Sean found her, Claire was alone.
“Morning!” Sean said cheerfully.
Claire looked up from her work. “I trust you slept well,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Sean offered. “I know it was unpleasant and awkward for everyone. I apologize that the evening had to end that way, but I assure you Janet’s arrival was totally unexpected.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Claire said coolly.
“Please,” Sean asked. “Don’t you turn unfriendly. You’re one of the few people here who has been nice to me. I’m apologizing. What more can I do?”
“You’re right,” Claire said, finally softening. “Consider it history. What can I do for you today?”
“I suppose I have to talk with Dr. Levy,” Sean said. “How do you suggest I find her?”
“Page her,” Claire said. “All of the professional staff carry beepers. You should get one yourself.” She picked up the phone, checked with the operator that Dr. Levy was in, then had her paged.
Claire only had time to tell Sean where to go to get a beeper when her phone rang. It was one of the administrative secretaries calling to say that Dr. Levy was in her office only a few doors down from Claire’s.
Two minutes later Sean was knocking on Dr. Levy’s door, wondering what kind of reception he’d get. When he heard Dr. Levy call out to come in, he tried to talk himself into being civil even if Dr. Levy wasn’t.
Dr. Levy’s office was the first place that appeared like the academic scientific environment Sean was accustomed to. There was the usual clutter of journals and books, a binocular microscope, and odd assortments of microscopic slides, photomicrographs, scattered color slides, erlenmeyer flasks, culture dishes, tissue culture tubes, and lab notebooks.
“Beautiful morning,” Sean said, hoping to start off on a better note than the day before.
“I asked Mark Halpern to come up when I heard you were on the floor,” Dr. Levy said, ignoring Sean’s pleasantry. “He is our chief, and currently our only, lab tech. He will get you started. He can also order any supplies and reagents you might need and we don’t have, although we have a good stock. But I have to approve any orders.” She pushed a small vial across her desk toward Sean. “Here is the glycoprotein. I’m sure you’ll understand when I tell you that it does not leave this building. I meant what I said yesterday: stick to your assignment at hand. You should have more than enough to keep you busy. Good luck, and I hope you are as good as Dr. Mason seems to believe you are.”
“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable if we were a bit more friendly about all this?” Sean asked. He reached over and picked up the vial.
Dr. Levy pushed a few wayward strands of her glistening black hair away from her forehead. “I appreciate your forthrightness,” she said after a brief pause. “Our relationship will depend on your performance. If you work hard, we’ll get along just fine.”
Just then, Mark Halpern entered Dr. Levy’s office. As they were introduced, Sean studied the man and guessed he was around thirty. He was a few inches taller than Sean and was meticulously dressed. Sporting a spotless white apron over his suit, he looked more like men Sean had seen around cosmetic counters in department stores than a tech in a scientific lab.
Over the next half hour, Mark set Sean up for work in the large empty fifth floor that Claire had shown him the day before. By the time Mark left, Sean was satisfied with the physical aspects of his work situation; he only
