Coffee (17 page)

Two
new guards picked her up, a man and a woman. Neither smiled, they
spoke only in gestures. Etty didn’t care, she just wanted to
get clothes and go to work. They stayed with her, always conscious
of their position - one on her right, one behind at all times.

Once
in the Rotunda, she went straight to the same Sporting Goods store
she had been in the day before. The store manager eyed her with
contempt as she quickly scanned the Active Wear area. Within a few
minutes, she arrived at the check out with a full workout suit,
some running shoes, a sports bra, socks, and briefs. Next, to
another casual clothing store where she picked up more jeans, a
couple of business acceptable shirts, pajamas, underwear, and a
comfortable sweater. She wore new jeans and new shirt, and stuffed
her old clothes into a bag. She thought of buying a suit or dress,
but couldn’t imagine doing slave work in panty hose. She’d
get one later on for her formal presentation. Finally to a Drug
Store for a basket of miscellaneous items.

She
ordered her automaton escorts to take her packages back to her
apartment. They took them from her without the slightest change in
expression.

At
the security console for WIC, they clamped a plastic coated cable
bracelet on her wrist that could only be removed by cutting. The
cable passed through a tiny black box. The guard gave her only
summary acknowledgment while he tested it for tightness.

“You’ve
got me on a monitor?” Etty asked.

“Yup.
We’ll even know when you go to the bathroom,” he
grinned.

The
guards led her back to the research center. “Check with us
when you are ready to leave. We’ve only got you cleared for
the Library. Step out in the hall and you’ll set off alarms.
You understand?”

“Yes.”
Although she hated all of them just on principle, she did
understand. She wondered how many guards already lost their jobs
over her. Marion for sure. In some ways, she was pleased with
herself. First she foiled their best minds in finance, and next she
nearly escaped their elaborate security system. She wore the extra
shackles to prove it. Then she remembered the injections, reminding
her that they still had the upper hand, and quickly thought of
something else.

When
they entered, a well dressed woman approached. “Miss Bishop?”

“Yes.”

“Bill
McKinsey called and had us put aside a room for you. This one here
is all yours.” She pointed to the one on the end. “We
had a phone put in so you can call internally. We have two research
assistants on duty from 7am to 11pm. I left the numbers you can
call to talk to them, or of course feel free to step out to the
Information Desk.”

“Thank
you.” Etty managed a smile.

“Bathrooms
are down that hallway. We have coffee and occasional snacks in a
staff room behind the Desk which you are welcome to use.” She
looked at the bulging bag Etty carried. “We don’t allow
food to be consumed in the study rooms. We don’t have time
to pick up crumbs. I’ll put it in the refrigerator out back.”

“Thanks,
really.” Etty closed herself into her new little office. The
wall facing the library was entirely glass except for the door.
Feeling like a fish in a bowl, she lowered the blinds and twisted
the flaps shut.

With
her head still swimming from the hit from Bart’s gun, she
planned an easy first day. She acquainted herself with the computer
and printer. She pulled up a word processor and outlined her
research strategy.

- Chapter Eleven -

Mike
Lange looked up from his desk to see Bryce’s bright red hair
and engaging smile. “So soon? It’s only been half a
day, and you have the recommendation?”

“Not
exactly, I want to ask for an extension, and I want to make a little
trip.”

“Where’s
the paper work. I need a recommendation form in front of me or we
can’t talk. You know the rules.”

Bryce
contained his frustration. Paperwork will bring the end to
democracy, he thought. “Before I go through all that, let me
just run this by you - just take a minute.”

“Better.
If I can’t log it with a form, it never happened. If it
never happened, then people will wonder what I do down here all
day.”

Bryce
had the perfect retort, but suppressed it. “The transcriber
didn’t get the whole message - she missed an important piece.
I listened to it, and Brooke confirmed my finding.”

“I
told her to stay out of this.”

“I
needed another opinion, it was hard to understand. He gave the
combination to a safe in his office, and said there was more
information in it. I think I should check it out before I make any
final recommendations.”

“Safe?
Contact him by phone and ask him what’s in it.”

“That’s
the other thing, he’s dead. Died this morning in the hospital
from a bad case of bacterial pneumonia. That means that the only
two names we have on this assignment are either dead or supposedly
dead.”

“What
about the company he mentioned, have you called them?”

“Their
story checks out. They said they were waiting for Bishop to arrive
Friday night for an interview on Saturday morning. The Dartmouth
staff person I called had a faxed memo from the company detailing
the trip schedule. They claim they were just as surprised as anyone
else to hear she died on route.”

Lange
continued to search for excuses. “This guy was pretty sick,
hell he died only a few hours after he called us. Don’t you
figure his head would be pretty fouled up? Could have seen ghosts.”

Bryce
also saw the possibility, but persisted. “Whatever happened,
we should see what’s in the safe.”

“Have
the College get it out and send it to us.”

“If
there is something improper going on, and the safe contents shows
it, we ought to be the only ones to touch the stuff. Besides, Mr.
Olafson wanted
us
to see what is in that safe, as his
last dying wish. I think we owe him that.”

“Don’t
get soft on me. You get me the paper work, and I guess I’ll
let you go. You be back tomorrow afternoon so I can get your report
in.”

“I
want backup. I want Brooke to assist.”

“Don’t
push it, you’re not a field agent yet, you can’t be
commanding a staff.”

“She
doesn’t have to come with me, I just want a person here to run
things down for me if I need it. Come on, Mike, you have the
authority.”

“You
ask a lot for such a low priority order.” He huffed and
picked at crusty skin in his left ear, while Bryce watched in
disgust. “Well. Just for the next two days. I won’t
approve any more until I hear from you tomorrow night.”

Bryce
quickly jumped up, afraid his boss would retract something.
“Thanks,” and headed back to his desk.

“Remember,
paper work on my desk before you leave!” Lange yelled at
Bryce’s back.



Before
leaving, Bryce called the Hanover Police to give them an update, and
to announce his visit. He had them fax a copy of the accident and
coroner’s report. He suggested they have a police officer
present when opening the safe, but the Police declined the offer
since the case was closed. He called ahead to Dartmouth Security
and had them coordinate his visit, requesting interviews with all
people who had been in contact with Olafson or Bishop in the last
few days. Beyond their obvious eagerness to oblige, he sensed
concern that a major incident was brewing. Bryce explained Knut’s
call to the FBI emergency line, and assured them that his visit was
only a routine follow up.

He
watched the snow and pine covered Appalachian mountains slowly drift
past the window of the small commuter aircraft. The loud props
blocked out all other sounds, giving him a sense of privacy, even
though every seat was taken. Few outside the FBI are told the
staggering statistics on false alarms and unsolved cases at the
Bureau. He knew the chances of this leading to anything interesting
were small. And he didn’t want to wish ill on anyone
involved. But just suppose the dying professor was right about the
woman caller. The thought sprayed excitement through his chest.

He
flew into the Lebanon Municipal Airport, and arrived on campus by
3pm in a rental car. A full entourage received him at the
Administration Offices, including the College President. He
approached Bryce first, and after some greetings, told him the
College would assist in any way they could. Bryce gave a short
unprepared speech to the crowd of eager onlookers, whose faces
peeked through warm hooded coats and hats while they stood in the
snow. A security guard then urged him to follow, and the two men
disappeared into the building.

The
guard offered Bryce a paper face mask, and pulled one on himself.
Now muffled, “You might want to wear this, there’s some
concern about how contagious this bug might be.”

Bryce
felt embarrassed that disease danger hadn’t occurred to him.
“Anyone else getting sick? Is the local hospital concerned?”

“No,
not yet. They’re keeping an eye out. They said pneumonia
kills people fairly often. They haven’t seen any
concentrations.”

Bryce
snapped on the mask. Once in Knut’s computer lab, the guard
led Bryce to the impressive console. “I came up here after
your call and found the safe.” He pointed to a gray metal
door in the overhanging compartment.

“This
place has been trashed - did your people come through here looking
for something?”

“Nope.
No one’s wanted to come in.”

“Does
anyone else know this lab well enough to tell what might be
missing?”

“Profession
Olafson worked alone. Frankly, the place always looked pretty
messed up.”

Bryce
commented on the strange binocular device hinged to the desk.
“Never seen one of these,” he said.

“Olafson
was blind, or nearly blind. He had that so he could read the
screens.”

No
one had mentioned Knut’s blindness, and although it did not
affect the case, it added yet another odd twist. Bryce pulled out
some notes from his pocket, and reached up to unlock the safe. The
first thing he noticed when the heavy door swung open were the
bottles of liquor. “He kept his stash up here,” Bryce
noted.

“There’s
an empty Vodka bottle on the floor over here too,” the guard
said pointing to the cluttered floor.

Bryce
pulled out a folder sloppily filled with computer printouts and
other notes. He found the cassette. “A tape. Says,
‘Fleetwood Mac’, crossed out, and hand written ‘Etty’.”
He looked around and saw a shelf with other music tapes. “He
locked this one up, maybe it’s something.”

The
guard found the little hand held tape recorder Knut had used to
record the message. First they heard the computer voice of the phone
system indicating the day and time of the phone message. Then, the
“Knut, what?” message. “The Bishop woman’s
accident was Friday night, right?” The guard nodded. “He
must have thought this was her voice.” In the background,
they could clearly hear labored breathing. He played it another
time, then asked the guard, “Can you find some people who knew
her well enough to identify her voice?”

“Sure,
but I doubt that’s enough to be sure.”

“Find
an office where I can meet them. I’ll look around here a
little more while you set up.” The guard trotted away,
leaving Bryce some time to scan the room.



Bryce
spent the next hour in Knut’s lab. He read through the
papers. He didn’t understand all the details, but he could
tell Harriet Bishop had discovered something curious in the behavior
of coffee prices. More interestingly, he found reference to Global
Growers. He found a one page document which sounded almost like a
confession, that she had devised certain Options trades executed by
a Warren Sherman. He made a note to contact Mr. Sherman.

The
office was too disorganized, too chaotic, especially for a blind
person. Someone must have been through here, looking for something.
Maybe the papers in the safe. He used some tweezers to place the
empty glass from the desk top into an evidence bag.

He
called Brooke and had her research the source of the phone call.
Since Bryce had the time, date, and number called, it would be
possible to find exactly where it came from. Brooke was thrilled to
get involved.

The
guards moved him to a more comfortable office, and brought by a long
line of students and staff for Bryce to interview. They also
arranged a speaker phone, and piped in the original voice message
directly from the phone system for better fidelity. Three quarters
of the listeners were convinced it was Etty. The others either
weren’t sure or declined to answer, but no one disputed Knut’s
claim.

He
gathered tidbits from the last week on both Knut and Etty. Not one
person mentioned Knut’s sickness. He had been alone for most
of Sunday and Monday, but still Bryce would have expected someone to
comment on a cough or a sniffle.

An
impression of Etty clarified with each interview. Her finance
advisor choked up trying to recall his last conversation with her.
Classmates described an admirable, even intimidating peer, a beacon
in every class she took. She apparently had no steady boyfriend, and
not many close personal friends, male or female. She avoided study
groups, preferring to work alone. She visited the local bars with
classmates on occasion, but not with a regular group. Security
provided a photograph from her identification, which he kept in
front of him during the interviews. She looked straight into the
camera. He wondered if the snapshot exaggerated the contrast, or if
she really did have such dark hair and eyes against such white skin.

Bryce
arranged Warren Sherman’s interview last. Warren was the most
important connection, as he spent time with both Knut and Harriet,
and he was instrumental in the trades.