"So? Did you find your paint residue?"
"Oh, we won't have results from the lab for days." Jasper waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry about not telling you about the computer files, but we had to find out if you were telling us the truth. And it seems you were."
"Why, Sergeant?"
"Because, if you told the truth about that, it's less likely that you're lying about all the rest of it." He gave her a smile that was meant to make her feel like he was on her side. It didn't. "Now, tell me about the relationship between Bob Tomlin and your roommate."
She might be telling the truth about Penningly stealing those files, but she lied about the keys." Willis and Jasper watched Aleksi Rychenkna descend the icy steps to the waiting squad car. "No paint, and the forensics guys said no way those keys made the scratches in Penningly's car."
"I didn't think so, and it's damn sure they didn't slash open Bob Tomlin's throat, either." Jasper shivered and waved as she got into the car and it rolled away. "Did Johnny get everything?"
"All her emails for the last month," Willis confirmed. "That kid scares me sometimes."
"He scares me all the time." He turned and went back inside the building.
"We're in deep shit if anyone finds out he did that without a warrant," Willis said in a stage whisper.
"Aleksi Rychenkna said we could look for evidence on her computer, that's on the recording."
"Did I mention that you scare me, too?"
"Good." Jasper gave him a wry smile. "I think we should talk to the good Dr. Hutchinson next."
"Lunch first?" Willis asked. "He has a lecture in a half hour."
"Sure. Your call, but nothing too greasy. My colon's feeling like Hoover Dam."
"Oh, like I really needed to know that!"
26
Aleksi?"
She jerked up from her computer. Hutch stood at the door to the lab.
"You okay?" He stepped in and let the door close behind him. He looked like he'd just pulled an all-nighter.
There were two technicians working in the lab, so she couldn't say what she wanted to say, which was something like, "Fuck no, I 'm not okay! Bob is dead, my dissertation is circling the toilet bowl, and now the cops think I'm a murderer!"
Instead, she said, "Not really."
He walked over, hands in his coat pockets, and she could see that he'd just been outside. His lips were pale and he was flushed. "What are you working on?"
"Bob's genetic data. I was looking at the sequences. He told you the others were human, didn't he?"
"Yeah." He took a breath. "Aleksi, we really need to stop on this for now. The police—"
"I found a stop codon." She turned the screen toward him.
"What? Where?" He leaned in to look, and she caught a whiff of that distinctive 'Hutch' scent, soap, aftershave and a subtle undercurrent of him.
"In the mystery segment of DNA. One of the disparate regions. The disparity from the nonsense code was complete for about fifty bases, then there's a stop codon. The difference in the code after that point is minimal." She pointed at the two sequences she'd put side by side and the altered portion that coded for the end of an expressed gene; a gene that shouldn't be there.
"What does it code for?" She could hear the insatiable curiosity, a scientist's curiosity, in his voice.
She breathed in, taking his scent in deep, and unconsciously licked her lips. "No idea. The rest of the gene is before the primer portion of the sequence. We could run a reverse primer and get the rest of it easily enough."
He looked at the sequence, then at her. "A retroviral insertion? A protein switch?"
"Could be anything, but we won't know if we don't do the work."
"Look, Aleksi." He straightened from his stoop, his scent fading and her head clearing. "We need to talk."
"We do." She shut her computer down and stuffed it in her bag. "Where do you want to talk?" She reached for her coat.
"Hungry?" he asked without a hint of humor.
"Starving," she admitted, equally sober. "But not for vegetarian."
"Sushi okay? I know a place, but it's across the river."
"Sure."
She followed him out of the lab without another word, through the labyrinth of interconnected buildings, past his office, and to the Oxford Parking structure. They found his car and it hummed to life, taking them out of the building where Bob Tomlin was murdered. They drove across the Charles River and into the city in silence.
"This is off the beaten track," she said as they parked in front of a nondescript storefront displaying only Asian characters on the windows and door. All the glass was painted red, and the characters were in gaudy golden script highlighted in black.
"And not ever likely to make the Fromer's Guide." He opened the door for her. "But it's the best sushi in Boston."
The place was deserted, but it was early, barely four PM, between the lunch and dinner rushes. They were seated by a smiling woman in a beautiful form-fitting white dress that covered her from neck to wrists to toes. It was embroidered with silver thread, twisting scaled shapes intertwining in a confusion of serpentine forms. Hutch asked for a booth, and the red silk tablecloth made a swish sound against their denim pants as they took their seats. The hostess gave them menus and asked if they wanted drinks.
"Water for me," he said.
"Tea please."
When she had gone, he said, "The police called me in for questioning today."
"Me too. They asked about me, didn't they? I think I'm a suspect." She more than thought it. She'd heard Jasper and Willis talking about her as she boarded the police car. They knew she'd lied about the keys making the gouges in Derrick's car.
"Yeah, and Derrick. They asked questions about both of you." He didn't even look at his menu.
"And what did you tell them?" She looked over the sushi menu, circling half a dozen selections of sashimi without rice.
"I told them I'd only known you for a little over a month, but that you were a brilliant young scientist whom I felt privileged to work with." He fixed her with his eyes. "And that's the truth."
"Thanks," she said, not blushing as much as she would have when they first met, but still feeling a rush of heat to her face. "And about Derrick?"
"I told them I'd met him three times, and that he seemed smart, if somewhat aggressive."
"Did they tell you they found proof on my computer that he stole my data?"
His eyes widened. "No. No they didn't. Really?"
"Yep. The night we went out with Congressman Twain, I left my computer in the lab. He got in somehow and downloaded all my research data on the Kamchatka specimen. They found some kind of record on my computer that verified that the files had been downloaded to his jump drive at ten twenty-six that night, and I know we were already out of the lab by then."
He looked pensive. "It was close to that time, I think. He must have been waiting until we left and went right in. Goddamn it! The balls!"
The hostess, who seemed to be working as a waitress, too, returned and took their orders, then left, her ivory dress glowing in the low light, the sinuous shapes dancing on her hips. For some reason, Aleksi couldn't keep her eyes off that dress. When the woman was gone, she turned back to their conversation.
"Look, Hutch, I have to ask. Did you tell them, the police, about the other things I told you? The dreams and hallucinations I've been having?"
"They didn't ask about that." He sipped his water and looked at the table.
"And you didn't offer." Her heart pounded with a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he believed in her. "Thanks."
"Aleksi, do you think that maybe…" He stopped and took a drink of water. "You're different, more different than you think you are. You used to be so shy you couldn't meet my eyes, and now I'm the one who has to look away. You've changed, and it worries me. When they were questioning me, I remembered what you said about the confrontation with Doug at the gym. That you felt like tearing his arm off, and knew you could."
<
br /> "You're asking if I think I could have killed Bob?" She stared at him, and he looked up from his water. She could see, could smell his fear, but there was trust there too. "No, Hutch. Not in a million years. I think Derrick did it to get both me and Bob out of his way."
"But murder, Aleksi?" He shook his head. "Seems a little far to go to secure a graduate research project."
"He thinks he can't be touched." She knew she was right, feeling it in her gut. "He's privileged, always had whatever he wanted, and got it with no repercussions. He thinks he can get away with anything."
"Well he's not going to get away with stealing your data, Aleksi, I can guarantee that!" There was steel in his tone now, and he pulled out his phone. "He's out of the program, and the school, as of now."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm emailing Derrick and copying Dr. Vandyke and the faculty council." He stopped and fixed her with a hard stare. "You're sure the police found hard evidence that he took your files."
"That's what they said. They looked at his stick drive and found a record on my computer that the files had been transferred to that drive at ten twenty-six two weeks ago Friday. We were at dinner by then, or at least out of the MCZ."
"That's enough for me." He began tapping out an email.
During the process, the waitress brought their food; a wooden plate of fresh fish for her, and a huge platter of vegetable tempura for him. By the time he was finished with the email, she was halfway through her plate.
"There. It's done." He lifted his water glass and she lifted hers. "He's out."
They clinked glasses and she sipped, smiling for the first time in two days. "Thanks, Hutch. For trusting me, I mean. It means a lot to me."
"Don't thank me, Aleksi. Trust is something you earn, and you've earned mine." He dug into his meal. "So, this sequence you found. What do you think it means?"
They talked about research through the rest of the meal, and Hutch encouraged her to order another plate of sushi. He tried a piece of Ahi that she thought was particularly good. He made a face, and she laughed. It felt good.
The drive back to Cambridge was quiet until they neared Harvard Square. It was Friday night, and late enough that the icy streets were crowded with pedestrians. Aleksi had been thinking hard all the way back, and finally formed those thoughts into words as they turned onto Oxford Street.
"Hutch, I've got a favor to ask, and I don't know how to ask it."
"About your proposal?" He glanced at her, and she saw the trust there. She felt another flutter of hope in her stomach.
"No. About me." She looked out the car window as he pulled over in front of the MCZ. The building was so familiar; more of a home than anyplace else she'd known. It struck her how odd that was, how odd she was. Twenty-two years old, and she'd spent most of her life in schools and museums, studying, learning and researching things that had been dead for millennia. There was so much she hadn't done, so much living she hadn't experienced. She turned back to him and took a deep breath of that clean, spicy, Hutch scent. "Julie went home for the weekend, and the police think I killed Bob. I need an alibi, someone to be with, to confirm my whereabouts. If something else happens…" She bit her lip.
"Aleksi, I don't—"
"I just need someone to watch over me, Hutch. Please." He looked reluctant. "Julie'll be back Sunday evening, so it'd just be for two nights. I'll sleep on your couch, or you can sleep on mine, if you don't mind a noisy iguana shaking his cage in the middle of the night."
"Iguana?" He blinked. "You have an iguana?"
"Iggy." She smiled. "Julie calls him my boyfriend. Would you like to meet him?"
"Sure."
He put the car in gear and they hummed down the icy streets to her apartment.
Aleksi opened the door and ushered him in. At first glance he thought, Two people live here? The place was small, with a lived-in look. He remembered his own apartments in Seattle during college and smiled to himself. This was palatial compared to some of them.
"Come on in." She closed the door and showed him around, kitchen, bedrooms, bathroom and finally the living room. "And this is Iggy." To his surprise, she opened the cage next to the couch and the big green iguana hopped into her arms. "Isn't he a cutie?"
"Never considered lizards cute before, but yes." Hutch and the lizard eyed one another.
"He likes to be scratched under the chin." She came closer.
"All right." He did, and Iggy blinked and lashed his tail. "I don't think he likes me."
"He's just jealous. Here, take him. I've got to clean his cage and get him something to eat. If I let him loose, he'll be impossible to catch."
"Um…I've never—"
"It's okay. He won't bite." She handed the lizard over, and he cradled it in his arms, the long claws grasping his coat sleeve for purchase. "See?"
Aleksi made short work of wadding up the dirty newspaper in the bottom of the iguana's cage and disposing of the uneaten food, then laid down new paper and fixed some fruit and veggies in the kitchen. While she worked, Hutch wandered around the living room looking at the books, pictures, and knick-knacks, continuing a careful scratch under the lizard's chin. Iggy seemed content to tolerate this abuse from a stranger, at least for a while.
"Is this your roommate?" He pointed to a picture of a perky blonde with a guy.
"Yeah, that's Julie. Something, isn't she?"
"She was dating Bob?"
"Yeah, for all of a week."
"Way to go, Bob," he mumbled, inspecting another picture of her in a bathing suit with several other people on a beach. He tried to picture Bob with her and failed.
"She attracts guys like flies, and most of them have just about as much personality." Aleksi finally relieved him of Iggy. "Bob was the first really nice guy she'd dated in a long time. He was good for her. She's not handling it very well."
He didn't know what to say to that, so he stayed mute.
"So, the couch is here, and I can vouch for its sleepability. I'd let you have Julie's bed, but when there's a man in it she likes to be there, too. She'd never forgive me." She put Iggy back in his cage and brushed her hands on her sweatshirt. "So, will you be my watchdog for a weekend?"
"No offense, Aleksi, but…" Her smile fell, her face transforming from hopeful to downcast in the blink of an eye. He couldn't do it; after what she'd been through, he couldn't turn her down. "I think my place might be a little more comfortable."
Her face lit up like a tree on Christmas eve. "Great! Thanks! Let me just grab a few things."
She ran to her room, then the bathroom, and returned with a handful of clothes and toiletries which she stuffed into her bag. She picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. "Ready!"
"You're bringing your computer?"
"Absolutely! I've got to have something to do!" She opened the door and switched off the light. "Besides; the evidence to expel Derrick Penningly is on this computer. It's not leaving my side until he's gone."
They chatted about work on the way to his place, but she fell silent on the ride up the elevator. When he opened his door and ushered her in, that silence broke.
"This is amazing." Aleksi stared around the living room in shock, at the lavish furnishings, the view from the dining room window of the Charles River and Boston, and through the living room to the back balcony and Cambridge. "It's beautiful!"
"I can't take credit for the décor." He tossed his keys into the bowl on the bookcase beside the door and hung his coat up. "Persephone might be a spoiled brat, but she always had great taste, and was never afraid to spend money on nice things."
"And she gave you this?" She drifted around the living room, staring at the leather couches and a low mahogany table, the shelves of books and curios. "That was generous of her."
"Well, I pay the maintenance fee, but yes, it was."
She looked around again, turned to him, and lifted her bag. "Um, where do you want me?"
His brain stumbled on the question for half a second.
"Oh! The spare bedroom's been an office for some time, but there's a futon in there. That'll give you more privacy than the couch." He showed her into the room and waved an arm. "The desk is a mess, but the rest is all yours."
"Thanks." She put her bag down and took off her coat.
"Let me grab some sheets and blankets from the linin closet."
When he came back, arms full of bedding, she had doffed her boots and hoodie and was brushing out her hair. She whipped it back into a scrunchie, and kicked her boots toward the closet.
"Here, you go." He dumped the pile in the office chair. They folded the futon down and quickly made the bed. "You want the rest of the tour?"
"Sure!"
He showed her the bathrooms, a small one off the main room, and a huge one that opened both into the living area and the master bedroom. She laughed at the big glassed-in shower, joking that it was big enough for a rugby team. In the kitchen he told her to feel free, opening the fridge and apologizing for the sparse shelves.
"I never really use the dining room." He waved a hand at the elegant dining room table with high backed chairs, and a corner china cabinet. "There's beer in the fridge, or wine in the chiller if you feel like it." He led her back out to the living room. "The TV remote's on the coffee table, and there's Wi-Fi if you want to work online. The password is crazy eco yoga doc five zero five zero, no caps or spaces."
"Fifty-fifty?"
"Just a little self-reminder. Fifty-fifty, work versus life." He shrugged. "All work no play, you know."
"I think my percentages would be closer to ninety-ten." She went to the glass doors and looked out on the dark wintery scene. He could see her reflection in the glass. "Work always seemed safer to me. Less chance of letting anyone getting close enough to hurt me."
"Is that why you set Bob up with Julie?" he asked. "I think he had a thing for you, you know."
"Bob?" She turned around and gave him a little half smile. "Yeah, I…kinda got that. I thought that with us working together it wouldn't be a good idea. They seemed right together. She needed someone nice, and he needed someone beautiful and alive; someone to make him feel good about himself." She looked down. "Someone not me."
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