Project Moses - A Mystery Thriller (Enzo Lee Mystery-Thriller Series) (31 page)

Once Fish had created a small supply of the deadly organism, he had followed Graylock’s orders and impregnated three pressed yellow roses and sealed them in impermeable envelopes containing a gaseous mixture of carbon dioxide and nitrogen. He gave the flowers to Graylock. Then, Fish carefully froze his remaining supply in liquid nitrogen.

•   •   •

BARRY TEMPLETON HAD stayed late to wait for the proofs of the state edition before heading home. He borrowed the two broadsheet pages he was interested in from the copydesk and took them to his cluttered cubicle. He noted with satisfaction that they had put the story on the front page, above the fold. It was the best play he could have hoped for.

Rice Disease Linked to AgriGenics
By Barry Templeton

A mysterious fungus that has endangered the nation’s rice crop has been identified as the same fungus that a California biotechnology firm developed and has been using in unauthorized field experiments.

Columbia University biologist Benjamin Nussbaum said yesterday that tests show that the disease destroying the rice plants is genetically identical to the fungus that employees say was developed and used by AgriGenics, Inc.

Agricultural experts have been stymied in their attempts to combat the fungus which has endangered the rice crop throughout the country. The disease, unknown until it infected a Texas farm two weeks ago, is resistant to chemical treatments and is apparently transmitted over long distances by windblown spores.

Three employees of AgriGenics said the fungus has been used for several weeks in tests of strains of resistant, genetically engineered rice. The employees, who signed sworn affidavits on the condition that their identities not be revealed, said that superiors at AgriGenics told them the fungus had been created by the company using genetic engineering techniques.

AgriGenics spokesman Roy Curley issued a statement denying any responsibility for outbreaks of the disease that are forcing farmers to destroy thousands of acres of rice in a desperate attempt to halt the spread of the fungus.

The company has been battered by recent allegations that it provided biological weapons used against crops, farm animals and people in several countries. Federal agencies also are investigating alleged violations of export and securities laws as well as prohibitions on the field testing of certain genetically engineered organisms…

Templeton finished a quick read of the story. Then he went through it once again, word by word. He penciled in two changes and handed the proofs back to the copydesk. It was after 11 p.m. when he grabbed his coat and briefcase and took the elevator down to the lobby of the Times building.

He lived with his wife in an apartment on Riverside Drive not too far from Columbia University. Templeton ordinarily took the subway to 103rd Street, walked the few blocks to Riverside and then the couple of blocks to his apartment. At this hour, he could have taken a cab but he actually enjoyed the subway, particularly when it wasn’t filled with rush-hour commuters and he could pay more attention to the people populating the trains and stations.

Templeton noticed the big fellow with long blond hair after he entered the subway station at Times Square. He had followed Templeton into the station and took a seat on a wood bench a few yards away. They had ridden in different cars on the way uptown.

Templeton noticed that the man followed him off the subway and out of the station at 103rd Street. He didn’t pay attention to him again until he had walked a couple of blocks and heard faint footsteps behind him. Templeton glanced back once and could barely make him out, half a block back, hugging the side of a building and walking in the shadows.

Before he reached Riverside, Templeton tried a detour, turning north for two blocks and then west again. The footsteps seemed further away, but they were still there. He was certain now that the man was following him. But, Templeton wasn’t sure what to do about it as he continued walking to his apartment. The guy looked like he could both outrun and outfight Templeton. The most dangerous item in Templeton’s briefcase was a two-day-old tuna sandwich. On the other hand, he didn’t want the man following him to know where he lived. Templeton didn’t want to lead him right up to his apartment.

He was on Riverside now, a block from his home. Templeton finally had a plan in mind. Whether the guy behind him was a mugger or was following him for some other reason, Templeton was reasonably sure he could scare him off just by confronting him, letting him know that Templeton was on to him.

Templeton whirled suddenly on the sidewalk and peered into the shadows behind him. Underneath some trees about 50 yards back, he could see the man. He had stopped in the shadows.

“Hey! Are you following me?” said Templeton in his most bellicose tone. He pointed his finger toward the man. “I want to know! Are you following me?”

There was no answer. The man hadn’t moved. Templeton had hoped the man would have turned and slouched away by now, but he hadn’t. Templeton started walking toward the man.

“I want to know what you’re doing there!” he said. “Why are you following me?”

Templeton had gone about 10 yards when the man broke. But, instead of turning tail and running, he was sprinting directly toward Templeton. Templeton wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to keep up the belligerent pose so he took a few more steps forward. But, then he realized the fellow was moving incredibly fast. And when the man got close enough so that Templeton could make out his face, he saw a ferocity that was scary. Templeton turned and started to run.

Hans Dietrich was on Templeton in no time. With no witnesses around, Dietrich saw no reason why he shouldn’t quiet the dumpy little fellow. He grabbed the collar of Templeton’s coat with one hand, found the back of his belt with the other, and ran the flailing reporter head first into a tree trunk. Miraculously, Templeton never lost his grip on his briefcase as he fell to the sidewalk unconscious.

Chapter 38

“HI, LO. HOW goes the war?” said Lee.

“Oh. Hi, Enzo. Still in New York, huh?” said Lorraine Carr. “Well, we had the top strip story today. Pilmann broke his hand pounding the desk yesterday. I don’t remember if it was to get more space for the story or because he was sure AgriGenics would sue us for libel and win.”

“You’re kidding,” said Lee.

“Oh, no. It’s true,” she said. “Today, he whacked his cast a couple of times. He loves the story and hates it, too.”

“What about AgriGenics?” asked Lee.

“They’ve got half the lawyers in town working the phones to kill the story. Every friend of a friend of a friend is calling the big shots, from publisher on down, to complain.”

“Did you talk to the company today?”

“Yep. First, Curley read me the riot act,” recounted Carr. “Unprincipled. Malicious. Reckless. He had a few other adjectives for me and some nice nouns for you.”

“I bet he did,” said Lee.

“And then I let him cry on my shoulder a little.”

“Yeah?” said Lee. “Well, the stock was down to twelve a few minutes ago. From what? Thirty-two?”

“Thirty-four. Right. There’s no question that they’re in free fall at this point,” said Lorraine. “The class action lawsuits are starting, too.”

“Yeah?” said Lee.

“Right,” said Lorraine. “All the litigation mills are hunting for AgriGenics shareholders so they can sue for securities fraud. They’re bringing in the directors, law firms, accountants and anyone else they can think of.”

“That’s great, Lorraine. So, do you think it’s hot enough for the directors to nail Brian Graylock?”

“I don’t know. They’re all hand picked by Graylock,” she said. “I think it all depends upon his Checker’s speech.”

“The what?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” said Lorraine. “I’m sorry. I guess I assumed you knew. Graylock and Curley are flying out to New York. They’ve scheduled an emergency shareholders meeting to try to dig themselves out of this. It’s a preemptive strike. There was talk that the major shareholders wanted to elect a new board of directors. Some analysts, and even some members of the press, are invited.”

“Including you?” said Lee.

“Yep. The paper said it was me or no coverage. I was pleasantly surprised.”

“When and where does this happen?” asked Lee.

“Friday, the day after tomorrow, at 10:30 a.m. And get this. It’s at the United Nations. They’ve rented out the Delegates Dining Room and West Terrace.”

“Okay, Lorraine. I think you ought to build up this meeting. ‘Do or die’ for AgriGenics and all that. Let the pressure keep building.”

“Right. The story’s already half written.”

“And call me when you get in,” said Lee. “I’m at the Morris Hotel under the name James Wright.”

“James Wright?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?” said Lee.

“Nothing. Well…it’s just kind of boring. You could have come up with something more unusual. You know…like Ewol Trebor.”

“Hmmm. I like it, Lorraine. Next time, okay?”

After she hung up the telephone, Lorraine Carr pulled her AgriGenics notes file on the screen. At the end, she typed: “Call Enzo in New York at the Morris Hotel. James Wright.”

Lee silently contemplated what Lorraine had told him. Sarah, who had heard his end of the conversation walked over to him and, standing behind him, put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed them hard.

“So, what’s the news?” she said.

“They’re having a meeting in two days with the Wall Street types to try to talk their way out of this.”

“And?”

“I’m just thinking that it’s an affair I wouldn’t miss for the world.”

•   •   •

SARAH AND LEE speared the last of the scallops and avocado appetizer and gazed out at a magnificent sunset over the East River from the West Terrace of the United Nations Headquarters. With Manhattan behind them, the view across the river was the skyline of Brooklyn just starting to twinkle with lights as dusk set in.

“Nice view,” said Sarah.

Lee laughed.

“
Nice
view? You’re supposed to say, ‘Incredible view.’ Or, ‘Fantastic skyline.’“

“I don’t give up my superlatives that easily,” said Sarah.

“What do you save them for?”

“Food, mostly. Men on rare occasions.” Sarah smiled at him.

For their entrees, Lee dug into a delicious duck confit smothered in lentils. Sarah opted for veal in a rich current sauce. A bottle of Bordeaux added to the wonderful food and a view that made them feel safe and far above the worldly troubles below.

“Doesn’t it seem like a normal night?” asked Sarah.

“I know. It feels like a nice breather, doesn’t it? A vacation. I wonder if we could stay here.”

“And polish off their wine supply?”

“Hear, hear.” Lee hoisted his glass, and Sarah followed.

“You know,” said Lee. “I was just thinking.”

Sarah looked at him with her steady open gaze.

“We’ve gone charging off on this…this mission, whatever it is. I hope I haven’t made things worse for you. I don’t know what will happen in the next few days. You might have been better off going to ground in Ecuador or turning yourself in to Spreckel and the feds.”

Sarah continued looking at him, her expression unchanged.

“Well, say something,” said Lee.

“Okay. I would be dead.” Sarah said it flatly as if reciting a well known fact. “Without you, they would have killed me. Maybe I could have run for awhile. But, I would have come back eventually. They thought I was a threat. They were wrong. But they were convinced I knew more than I did. Look what they’ve done to everyone else they perceived to be a threat.”

“I hate to say this, because I’m afraid it will be a jinx,” Sarah continued. “But, I feel like there might actually be a way out. I can actually conceive that I might resume a normal life. I admit, I wasn’t sure about what you were trying to do. But, here we are, and it feels like we’re winning, like we have a real chance.”

Sarah continued looking at Lee. He studied his fingers for a minute. Then, he looked up and took her hand.

“Look,” said Lee. “I have an invitation for you. When this is finished, let’s take a week and go someplace where it is hot, where there are warm mud baths and people who will massage us from head to toe. Let’s lie by a pool, when we aren’t being massaged or soaked in mud, and read cheap novels and make love in the afternoons.”

“I’d like that,” she said, reaching across the table to hold his other hand. “I’d like to spend time with you without being in a state of terror. I feel you turning in bed at three in the morning sometimes. I’d like to find out whether you can sleep peacefully through the night when the world is acting rationally.”

During the rest of the meal, Lee told her about life in New York, the small, out of the way places to go for food, drink, dance and theatre. Sarah told him about her life in Nebraska. How different and exotic San Francisco had seemed when she first arrived. It was only when their coffee arrived that the other world intruded.

“Hey,” said Lee to the waiter, a young man named Gary. “Do you know whether you’re working Friday morning? There’s a company having some sort of a shareholders meeting at ten thirty.”

“Yes, I am,” said Gary. “At least I’m on the schedule.”

“Look,” said Lee. “Call me at this number at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I have a proposition that I think will interest you.”

He handed a piece of notepaper to the waiter folded in half. Inside it was a $50 bill and the number of the Morris Hotel with their room number.

It was a warm breezy night, almost balmy. But, Lee knew it was Sarah’s presence more than the weather or the wine that made his feeling of well being follow them down the elevator and into the street. It was in her smile and the way she shook her hair in the wind.

Sarah was getting into the cab when Lee caught her hand and pulled her to him as they stood in the doorway of the cab with one of Sarah’s feet already inside. They kissed long and greedily. When they parted, Lee reached up and pushed her hair away from her eyes where the gusting wind had blown it. He became aware of the Caribbean music blaring from the taxi. Lee looked at the driver who was staring out the windshield with a grin on his face.