she said to me. “I know how I must sound. Timothy’s kidnapping is a personal tragedy, but there’s
nothing I can do about it. All I can do is prevent it from becoming a tragedy for the labs as well. In a way, that’s the only
thing I
can
do for Timothy—protect the company he built. I can’t let all his years of sacrifice go for nothing.”
Renshaw snorted derisively.
Mourning turned to him, suddenly furious. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Gage?”
“Pardon me for saying so, but you and Tim live a little high to support this self-sacrificial rhetoric. You may have given
up the condo in the city and the beach house, but this place isn’t exactly chopped liver.”
“For your information, this house, along with everything in it, is borrowed from one of our venture capitalists who chooses
to live elsewhere. The cars? They’re leased by the company. If you want you can examine the labels in my clothes—they came
from the Emporium. Frankly, Gage, we lost everything when the speculative bubble burst. We don’t have a pot to pee in.”
He held up his hands in a placating gesture.
Quickly I said, “Let’s talk about the kidnappers for a moment. You’re reasonably convinced they were members of a radical
animal-rights group?”
She nodded, but not before she gave Renshaw a last hard look. “Eco-terrorists, your Mr. Ripinsky called them—before he took
off with our letter of credit.”
“It couldn’t have been someone using the environmental issue as a cover? A disgruntled employee, for instance?”
“As far as I know, our people are happy. For the most part they’re young, very challenged, and learning as they go. There’s
a critical shortage of skilled workers for the biotech industry in the Bay Area, so Phoenix has hired and trained promising
college graduates.”
“What about personal enemies?”
“I’ve been over all this with Gage. Timothy and I have none.”
“Well, that about does it.” I checked my watch. “It’s time I got back to the city.”
Renshaw stood, looking glad to get out of there. “She’ll report to me periodically, Diane, and I’ll keep you informed.”
Mourning nodded, still angry. Her nod to me was only a shade more cordial. As we left the room, she curled in a corner of
the couch again—poised to strike, should she find a suitable target.
Eight
Renshaw said, “She’s full of shit, you know.”
We were in the driveway of the Mourning house, leaning against his car—a green Ford that was as disreputable as his tie.
I said, “People have different ways of handling their grief.”
“I’m not talking about whether she’s hurting or not. That’s her business. But this crap about Tim being self-sacrificing …
I knew Mourning fairly well. The guy loved to spend. They didn’t lose their money when the biotech market went flat; Tim piddled
it away on boats, cars, an expensive wine cellar.”
“So maybe Diane’s trying to sanitize his memory.”
Renshaw brushed his white forelock off his brow and glared at me. “You know, you have a very naive streak.”
“I call it an open mind.”
“Whatever.”
“I want to ask you about something you mentioned earlier today. There was some speculation before the kidnappers made contact
that Mourning planned his disappearance?”
“Right.”
“On whose part?”
“Mine. Kessell’s.”
“Why?”
He looked around before speaking in a lowered voice. “Mourning is one of those people who always have to be on the cutting
edge. You know the type: If this was the old days, he’d be an explorer on the western frontier. If it was the sixties, he’d
be beating down the door to get into the space program. In the eighties, there was biotech—tailor-made for Tim. But biotech’s
practically establishment now; as Diane said, the bubble’s burst, and Tim’s looking at years and years of hard work. From
talks I had with him, I got the feeling he was ready to move on to
nothing I can do about it. All I can do is prevent it from becoming a tragedy for the labs as well. In a way, that’s the only
thing I
can
do for Timothy—protect the company he built. I can’t let all his years of sacrifice go for nothing.”
Renshaw snorted derisively.
Mourning turned to him, suddenly furious. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Gage?”
“Pardon me for saying so, but you and Tim live a little high to support this self-sacrificial rhetoric. You may have given
up the condo in the city and the beach house, but this place isn’t exactly chopped liver.”
“For your information, this house, along with everything in it, is borrowed from one of our venture capitalists who chooses
to live elsewhere. The cars? They’re leased by the company. If you want you can examine the labels in my clothes—they came
from the Emporium. Frankly, Gage, we lost everything when the speculative bubble burst. We don’t have a pot to pee in.”
He held up his hands in a placating gesture.
Quickly I said, “Let’s talk about the kidnappers for a moment. You’re reasonably convinced they were members of a radical
animal-rights group?”
She nodded, but not before she gave Renshaw a last hard look. “Eco-terrorists, your Mr. Ripinsky called them—before he took
off with our letter of credit.”
“It couldn’t have been someone using the environmental issue as a cover? A disgruntled employee, for instance?”
“As far as I know, our people are happy. For the most part they’re young, very challenged, and learning as they go. There’s
a critical shortage of skilled workers for the biotech industry in the Bay Area, so Phoenix has hired and trained promising
college graduates.”
“What about personal enemies?”
“I’ve been over all this with Gage. Timothy and I have none.”
“Well, that about does it.” I checked my watch. “It’s time I got back to the city.”
Renshaw stood, looking glad to get out of there. “She’ll report to me periodically, Diane, and I’ll keep you informed.”
Mourning nodded, still angry. Her nod to me was only a shade more cordial. As we left the room, she curled in a corner of
the couch again—poised to strike, should she find a suitable target.
Eight
Renshaw said, “She’s full of shit, you know.”
We were in the driveway of the Mourning house, leaning against his car—a green Ford that was as disreputable as his tie.
I said, “People have different ways of handling their grief.”
“I’m not talking about whether she’s hurting or not. That’s her business. But this crap about Tim being self-sacrificing …
I knew Mourning fairly well. The guy loved to spend. They didn’t lose their money when the biotech market went flat; Tim piddled
it away on boats, cars, an expensive wine cellar.”
“So maybe Diane’s trying to sanitize his memory.”
Renshaw brushed his white forelock off his brow and glared at me. “You know, you have a very naive streak.”
“I call it an open mind.”
“Whatever.”
“I want to ask you about something you mentioned earlier today. There was some speculation before the kidnappers made contact
that Mourning planned his disappearance?”
“Right.”
“On whose part?”
“Mine. Kessell’s.”
“Why?”
He looked around before speaking in a lowered voice. “Mourning is one of those people who always have to be on the cutting
edge. You know the type: If this was the old days, he’d be an explorer on the western frontier. If it was the sixties, he’d
be beating down the door to get into the space program. In the eighties, there was biotech—tailor-made for Tim. But biotech’s
practically establishment now; as Diane said, the bubble’s burst, and Tim’s looking at years and years of hard work. From
talks I had with him, I got the feeling he was ready to move on to
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