Dream Park

Griffin listened to his breathing: thunder in his chest, the blood roaring in his ears; and knew that he had to call Millicent. He propped himself upright and said, 'Switchboard.'

The screen formed, a pale violet rectangle of light. A voice asked, 'Yes, Mr. Griffin?'

Stifling a yawn, he said, 'Summers, Millicent Summers. Priority call.'

Twenty seconds later Millie rippled to life in front of him, her eyes puffy and half-crossed with bleariness. 'Chief? What's up?'

Gotcha! he thought; but it didn't seem to matter. 'I need your help, Hon. You did the research-'

Even as he spoke she was coming alert, her eyes focussing, mouth hardening. By God, he thought to himself, maybe I never will learn her secret.

Chapter Thirty-One

DEPARTURES

At ten past ten that Wednesday morning, Skip O'Brien looked like the surviving Garners had looked stumbling out of the Goose. Smiling, successful, but very tired. He blinked at Griffin and Har­mony and, seeing no returning smiles, lost his own. 'Am I late?'

Alex felt awake and alert after ten hours of sleep. 'We haven't been here long. Coffee, Skip? You look like you need it.' He was already holding the pot.

'Good. Black, thanks. I didn't get to bed till two this morning. Worth it, though.' Skip slid his briefcase onto the desk and took the cup Griffin handed him. Griffin refilled Harmony's empty cup, then his own.

Harmony gulped, made a face. 'Good. Well, I'm glad to be wrapping this mess up, finally. Skip? Your report, please?'

Griffin watched Skip remove three sheets from his briefcase and sort through them. Skip adjusted his glasses and skimmed down the chosen sheet.

'We recovered almost half of the neutral scent. Considering the level of impact felt by the Gaming party, I believe we can safely conclude that we've got it all. The formula has been recovered, and we have stress-analyzed testimony indicating no copies were made. Although we don't have tapes to study, the report filed by security chief Griffin would seem to indicate that the drug per­formed at a level beyond our most optimistic expectations.' He smiled shallowly. 'I think we've got a winner, gentlemen.' He set­tled the papers back in his lap.

Harmony tapped a thick finger on his desk pad. 'Very good. Alex?'

'It's not quite so neat on my end, Mr. Harmony.'

The bald man's face remained immobile. 'Explain, please.'

'I'm just not sure that we know the truth yet. There are some questions about Rice that need to be answered.'

'Wasn't it murder?'

'The coroner says so. McWhirter says he left Rice alive and healthy, and the voice-stress test says he isn't lying. But McWhirter's no doctor... Incidentally, we picked up his accom­plice at five this morning when he tried to recover the notes and the neutral scent.' Alex grinned suddenly. 'Wet as a cat in the rain, he was, and not happy. McWhirter was supposed to leave the stuff behind the fake waterfall. He's given us that much, anyway. We don't know who the man in Sacramento was... yet. We will. My question is: was Rice involved? His apartment was rifled only two days before, he was taking an unscheduled break. .

'Exactly what are you saying?' Skip's eyes were narrowed.

'It's pretty thin, but thieves have been known to fall out among themselves.'

Harmony's finger tapped more quietly. 'I'm still not sure I fol­low.'

Griffin sighed. Here it came, and it wasn't going to be pretty. But he could be wrong; he could still hope he was wrong.

Alex said, 'Rice claimed that nothing was missing from his apartment. We think he lied. A statue was missing. The statue was known to be hollow. Two days later, Rice is dead and the neutral scent turns up missing. Skip, when exactly was the last time that the contents of that cabinet had been checked?'

'I... see what... you mean.' Skip thought a moment. 'I'd have to check.'

'All right. Now, think with me. Suppose the neutral scent was

already gone? Suppose Rice stole it, and the whole thing went down to divert suspicion?'

'Then...' Harmony's frown deepened. 'You think that the statue held the vial and someone stole it back? Gave it back to us? That doesn't make sense.'

'A lot of this doesn't make sense, Mr. Harmony. Maybe Rice got greedy and didn't sell the drug to his friends. Maybe McWhirter is a more calculating man than any of us realize. All I know is that something's wrong and I'm having Bobbick check Rice's place again. What we need may be there.'

O'Brien squinted. 'Haven't you already searched Rice's place?'

'Not thoroughly. Just photographed.'

'Well, somebody searched it.'

'True. And maybe they didn't get what they were looking for. There are a lot of ways to hide things in a CMC apartment, that

an outsider might miss.' *

'A place large enough to hide a statue?'

'No, no, only enough to hide what someone thought was in it. Rice was a sculptor, you know. It wouldn't have been hard for him to rig a fake brick for his fireplace. A holo projection of a book could cover a hole in his shelf... I don't really know.' Alex glanced at the cuff of a fresh shirt. 'Bobbick must be almost there by now. If there's anything there, we'll find it.'

Skip snapped his briefcase shut. 'Whew. This sounds pretty bad. I'd better go and check the dates on that cabinet. If you'll ex­cuse me-'

Alex thought a wordless curse.

Harmony patted the air with his hand. 'That can wait, Skip. I need to know about the formula we recovered. How familiar with it are you? Enough to be sure it's the real thing?'

'I-it's hard to say. I, uh, I could check with Sacramento, but if the leak's there, the real formula could be switched already. And if it isn't, we can't compare them over an open line.' He sat down, reluctantly, then popped up again. 'Listen. I may have some notes on this in my lab. If I match them up... ?'

Harmony looked at Griffin, then back again. He hadn't liked this when Griffin broached the subject earlier, when it was still hy­pothetical. Now he hated it, and it showed in his face. 'Why don't you just get them on the phone. Have your office check. We'll have a courier bring it over if necessary.'

'I-we can't, uh... There's been too much trouble already. It's too valuable.'

'You're too valuable to us here, Skip,' Griffin said gently. He turned to Harmony. 'There's only one person in Sacramento whose name turned up in Albert Rice's telephone book. Lady named Prentice, Sonja Prentice.'

Harmony nodded grimly.

The blood was draining from O'Brien's cheeks. His eyes flicked from Harmony to Griffin to Harmony... 'What the hell is this about?' He could barely speak, the breath whistling weakly in his throat.

'It's about getting to the truth, Skip.'

O'Brien's mouth worked wordlessly. 'You can't-'

'Yes, we can,' Griffin said. 'We know about Sonja and we know about you and Rice.'

'Jesus...' O'Brien whispered. Then his eyes blazed and his lips set in a taut pale line. 'I'm not saying a