Chapter 19

“Attorney McGurn will be right with you.”

The receptionist gave me a three second smile. It looked remarkably sincere. I wasn’t sure if I should feel grateful or disappointed. I was about to ask her for dinner recommendations, when my phone rang. She looked up, raised a perfect eyebrow and nodded to a glass-walled conference room to my right. I made a note to stop by on my way out.

“Hey, Devereaux. Don’t have much time,” I could hear Def Leppard getting started in the background, “I got a client,” Lou pronounced the word ‘client’ with the arm’s length precision of a student teacher at the start of her first sex education class.

“… he’s head of student life up at Brown. Being all fuckin Ivory League, there’s a lot of private security watching out for Princess PotHead and Abdul Whoever the Third. So my boy, Dean Wheeler, he’s in tight with these guys.

At any rate, the dean has a weak spot for under-age dancers, so he’s always on the lookout for any dope he can feed me, thinkin to get on my good side.” He interrupted himself with a nicotine-enhanced laugh. “I ask you, do I strike you like a guy that has a good side?

So he comes to me and he says, ‘Hey Lou. I’m hearing a lot of chatter about a contract on some rich broad.’ And, I’m like, ‘So what the fuck difference does that make to me?'”

He keeps at it, ‘The hit was ordered by a major multinational corporation and it’s being subcontracted out to a group that does a lot of wet work for the CIA.’

OK, now he’s got my attention, ‘You don’t say, anyone I know?’ He sits back and I can see the wheels turning, he’s sure he’s got something I want. So I wait.

‘It’s tied to the bombing in Narragansett, but the part I wanted you to know,’ Right on schedule, this schmuck gets the look they all get when they think what they got is worth cancelling the loan. Naturally, I don’t say nothin. He lasted, like, three minutes and blurts out, ‘One of the private security guys tells me the State Department told his boss to relax. The matter has their blessings.’

I figure it’s got something to do with that broad’s sister you’re trying to find. But the CIA and the State Department being involved, well that’s a whole ‘nother matter entirely. Those assholes make old-school Mafia guys look like fuckin altar boys. Better stay on your toes. It’s one thing to be doin’ business with mob guys and another thing entirely when you get mixed up with outfits with enough pull to get the fuckin’ government to look the other way.

So watch yer ass, Devereaux.”

I thanked him and put away my phone just as a middle-aged man appeared in the conference room doorway. From the hundred-dollar haircut and thousand-dollar Montblanc, I assumed he was the Prendergast’s attorney, Stefan McGurn. I considered asking him to set me up with the receptionist, but before I could, he turned and lead me to his private office.

*****

Kyle stared at the monitor. Were he an average college-aged young man, home unexpectedly from school, one might presume Kyle Harrington was home alone. He was not, by any stretch, an average college-aged young man. His IQ and his family’s income bracket were both in a single-digit percentile of the general population.

Alone in the very large home on Lakeside Terrace in the Glencoe suburb of Chicago, Kyle felt decidedly mixed emotions. There was the lingering exhilaration of finally succeeding in decrypting the thumb drive. A new emotion, more of a sense of foreboding, like a drunk high school jock cutting in at the Homecoming dance, grew in its place. Displayed on the computer monitor:

‘Arbovitae Verbessern’ / Enhancement of the Tree of Life

The first, full-scale, natural environment test has been an un-qualified success. Deployment in the high plains of Kazakhstan began in 2013 and the effect manifested in 2015. This was anticipated. The product wiped out 60% of the biome, specifically, a species of antelope native to the area. Our genetically modified seed stock (GMO) eliminated the natural strain of grasses that formed the staple diet of the animals. As noted, mortality was 60 percent of the extant population.

This serves as a credible validation of the efficacy of the modification. Recommend trials on isolated human populations.

*****

“Hello, Sister Ryan.” Anya Claireaux’s voice was at one with her outward appearance; long, silky-blonde hair framing a face that put more than one business adversary at an un-anticipated disadvantage. Her eyes, reflected in the computer screen in her office overlooking Lake Michigan, would make an average person think of a tiger. Darkly beautiful without the slightest hint of self-doubt.

Sister Margaret Ryan, novitiate nun at St. Dominique’s, stood in one of the alcoves that interrupted the walkways that overlooked Chesapeake Bay. Had one of the other nuns happened upon her, surely her face would have evoked a similar response.

Fortunately all the other women were in chapel, the activity perfect for their gentler natures, sparing them the sight of a person they knew to be kind and good, looking for all the world like any jungle’s top predator.