The Green Trap by Ben Bova

Alto it was two sergeants. I’m coming up in the world.
    The door opened and Lieutenant Danvers stepped in. She was a small African-American woman, almost petite except for being obviously overweight. Too many doughnuts, Cochrane found himself thinking. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate. She wore a starched white blouse and a knee-length navy blue skirt. Her hair was iron-gray, but her face looked more like a kindly aunt or youngish grandmother than a police officer.
    â€œI’m sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Cochrane,” she began, walking past him and taking the chair at the head of the table. She placed a black notebook and a television remote control wand on the tabletop. Cochrane noted that she carried a pistol in a holster tucked into the waistband of her skirt. “We had to set up a videophone connection with the Palo Alto police.”
    Before Cochrane could say anything, the TV screen came to life and Sergeant McLain’s puffy-eyed face stared out at him.
    â€œSergeant McLain,” Cochrane said.
    â€œYou’ve got another dead body on your hands,” McLain said, smiling sardonically.
    Lieutenant Danvers said, “We’re here to determine if there’s a connection between the murder of Mitsuo Arashi and”—she glanced down at her notebook—”Dr. Michael Cochrane.”
    She looked up at Cochrane. “Your brother?”
    He nodded.
    â€œWhat can you tell us about Mr. Arashi?” Danvers asked.
    â€œNot much. I didn’t really know him.”
    â€œWe have information that says otherwise.”
    â€œInformation? From who?”
    â€œYou had dinner two nights ago with him and a third person, a woman.”
    McLain jumped in. “Was that the same woman you were with when you talked to Dr. Tulius at the Calvin labs?”
    Cochrane started to answer, then hesitated.
    â€œYou’re not under arrest, Dr. Cochrane,” said Danvers gently. “We would appreciate any help you can give us.”
    â€œI only met Arashi a few nights ago,” he said. “I had dinner with him.”
    â€œWe already know that,” McLain said.
    â€œAnd that’s it.” Cochrane spread his hands, palms up. “That’s all I know about him. He was interested in the research my brother was doing. He asked me what I knew about it and I told him I didn’t know a damned thing. Which is the truth.”
    â€œIs it?” McLain snapped.
    â€œDr. Cochrane,” Danvers asked more reasonably, “do you think there’s a connection between your brother’s murder and Mr. Arashi’s?”
    â€œThey were both beaten to death,” McLain said.
    The picture of Mike’s battered face flashed into Cochrane’s mind again. He shook his head. “I don’t know if there’s a connection,” he said to Danvers.
    â€œBut you said Mr. Arashi asked you about your brother’s work.”
    â€œYes, that’s right.”
    McLain said, “So the chances are that whoever killed your brother offed Arashi, too.”
    â€œI suppose so.”
    Danvers glanced down at her notebook again. “Now, about this woman who was with you and Mr. Arashi—”
    â€œI’m sorry,” said Cochrane, “but I don’t want to talk about her.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIt’s personal.”
    â€œBut you can tell us her name, at least.”
    â€œI’d rather not,” Cochrane said, wondering as he spoke why he was protecting Sandoval. Because she slept with me? That meant as much to her as brushing her teeth, he thought. Still, he balked at bringing her name into the police investigation.
    â€œWe could place you under arrest,” McLain threatened.
    â€œThen I’d have to get myself a lawyer,” Cochrane countered.
    Danvers sighed. “Dr. Cochrane, we don’t want this to get messy. But there have been two murders and they appear to be connected. We need your