Final Venture

by Michael Ridpath

  The sweet smile stayed on her lips. Gil looked confused.

  'I'm sure we can count on your continued investment in our funds, Lynette,' he said smoothly.

  'Perhaps. But I wouldn't rely on it, Gil.'

  'But, Lynette, our returns . . . '

  'I have analysed your returns, and if you take out BioOne and Frank Cook's investments you are left with a performance that isn't quite as good as some of your competitors. You seem to have missed the Internet bus almost entirely.'

  'Art, here, looked into that market, and concluded it was all hype. We firmly believe those companies are overvalued.'

  'They've made a lot of people a lot of money,' said Lynette.

  The firm had made some investments in the area in the early days. Frank had done a couple of successful small deals, and then Art came up with two spectacular disasters, which had set the firm's returns back significantly. Art's conclusion was that the problem was with the market, not his investing skills, and he had urged a policy of avoiding the sector. Frank and I had only been able to squeeze Net Cop through the investment committee by arguing that it was building the nuts and bolts of the Internet rather than an ephemeral 'community' in cyberspace. In truth, many of the Internet stocks had been hyped to the stratosphere. But most of our competitors had made money putting them there, and Mauer knew this.

  'Perhaps we should discuss this in my office,' said Gil hurriedly.

  'Why, certainly, if you like,' said Mauer.

  The meeting broke up. Daniel strolled over to the small woman. 'Ms Mauer?'

  'Yes?'

  'Daniel Hall. I noticed you are a major investor in Beaufort Technologies. I just wanted to suggest that you should perhaps take your profits. The stock is due for a big correction.'

  Mauer's eyes flicked up at Daniel. 'Why? What's wrong with Beaufort?'

  'Nothing's wrong with the company,' Daniel said. 'It's just that the market's love affair with 3-D animation is wearing thin. It's going out of fashion.'

  Gil was glaring at Daniel, but he had Mauer's attention. 'Thank you,' she said, and followed Gil out of the room.

  'Talk about a death wish,' I said to Daniel as we made our way back to our office. 'You just about kissed goodbye to your career back there.'

  Daniel smiled. 'Beaufort's going down. Lynette Mauer will remember I told her. And when it does fall, she'll be glad I warned her, and so will Gil.'

  'Maybe. If we still have a firm by then. But if Bieber pulls out, so might some of the other investors.'

  'Oh, Revere will survive,' said Daniel. 'And she saw right through Art, didn't she? That was just great!'

  Maybe. Or maybe Revere was falling apart about our ears.

  'Ayot, come with me! Gil's office. Now!'

  It was Monday afternoon. I looked up from my work. Art was standing at the door to our office, his face was red, his short grey hair bristling.

  John and Daniel turned open-mouthed. I slowly followed Art.

  Gil was standing stiffly behind his desk as I came in, his weather-beaten face grim.

  'Sit down, Simon,' he said coldly.

  I took one of Gil's armchairs. The two older men seated themselves opposite me. Art could barely contain himself, his big forearms wrapped across his broad chest in an effort to suppress his anger.

  Gil leaned forward towards me. 'Art tells me that you are responsible for a serious breach of confidence. Very serious.'

  Oh Lisa, Lisa!

  'Apparently someone has told the Boston Peptides management about BioOne's bid for the company. This has raised major difficulties with the negotiations, which were at a delicate stage.'

  'You bet it has!' Art couldn't contain himself any longer. 'We've had to cave in to management's demands right away. We'll have to make a public announcement tomorrow morning. This is going to cost us money!'

  'Art believes you were responsible for this leak. Is he correct?'

  The eyes peered at me through those lenses. I wouldn't lie to Gil.

  I nodded. 'I'm sorry.'

  'Sorry!' screamed Art. 'I tell you not to do something, and you go right ahead and do it anyway! Sorry isn't good enough. Anyway, couldn't you have gotten your wife to keep her big mouth shut?'

  'I did ask her to – ' I said.

  'And she took no notice. If you can't trust your own wife, you shouldn't have spoken to her! Stupid bitch.'

  'Hey!' I rose from my chair, the anger boiling up inside me.

  'That's enough!' Gil put his hand on my arm. 'That's enough, Art. I know you're angry but let's keep the personal comments out of it. Take it easy, Simon.'

  I glared at Art and sat down.

  Gil turned to me. 'What you did today was a serious breach of trust. The firm has gone out of its way to back you up these last few days. We expect loyalty in return. I expect loyalty in return.'

  'I know. I'm sorry, Gil. It's just it was the kind of secret I didn't want to keep from my wife.'

  'That's not good enough, Simon, and you know it,' Gil said. 'Art suggested that we should try to keep the whole deal away from you until it's announced publicly. I told him no. We're a small firm, and we have to be able to trust each other. Frankly, I thought we could trust you. And it's not a question of us making you lie to your wife. We were just expecting you to behave ethically and professionally. That's not unreasonable is it?'

  I sighed. 'No, it's not.'

  'OK. At many firms this would be enough to get you fired. But we don't work that way here. Let this be a warning to you. I don't expect to see any signs of a breach of trust in your colleagues again.'

  'OK, Gil. And I am sorry.'

  I left his office seething. I marched straight back to my desk and picked up the phone, ignoring the stares of John and Daniel. I punched in a number.

  'Lisa Cook.'

  'You told Henry about the take-over, didn't you?'

  There was a moment's silence. Then Lisa's voice, curt and crisp. 'Maybe.'

  'What do you mean, "Maybe"? You either did or you didn't!'

  'It was important to Boston Peptides. Henry told me he would treat the information carefully.'

  'Well, he didn't, did he?' A small voice inside told me to calm down, get a hold of myself. But it was too late. It had been a stressful week for me too. 'Lisa, I can't believe you'd do that to me! I only told you about the take-over because I felt I had to. Because you're my wife, and I felt I could trust you. But I couldn't could I? The deal's blown wide open, Art's furious, and I just got a massive bollocking from Gil. It's lucky I wasn't fired.'

  'Simon, I. . .' Lisa was clearly taken aback by my anger. I had never been that angry with her before.

  'Yes?'

  'I'm sorry, Simon.' Lisa's voice was cold now. 'I did what I had to do.'

  'No, you didn't. What you should have done is keep quiet and wait for the news to get to Henry direct from BioOne. It's almost as though you place your loyalty to Boston Peptides above your loyalty to me.'

  And why shouldn't I, just for once? This is my career we're talking about. I started on this stuff long before I met you. Simon, I just don't think you understand that my job is as important to me as your job is to you.'

  'Lisa – '

  'Goodbye, Simon.'

  And there was a click as the line went dead.

  There was complete silence in the room as I stared at the receiver lifeless in my hand. Daniel and John were looking at me aghast.

  'Don't tell me she forgot to fold your socks again,' said Daniel at last.

  I smiled, deflated, and tried to go back to work.

  That afternoon, Diane dropped by my desk. She was the only partner who managed to make her visits to the associates' office seem like informal chats, rather than missions to dispense orders or demand information. I hadn't spoken to her since her Cincinnati trip.

  'How was Tetracom?' I asked.

  'Fascinating,' she said. 'The product seems to do all they claimed. And the management team seems first class. I've got a good feeling about this one
.'

  'Excellent.'

  'I'm going out there again next Monday. I'd really like you to come with me. I need some help, and . . . well, I'd like a second opinion.'

  It was always flattering as an associate to be asked for an opinion rather than just spreadsheet time, and it looked as if Tetracom might go all the way to investment. Only a minority of the companies we looked at actually made it that far, and it was obviously smart for an associate to attach himself to a deal that eventually got done.

  But, with Lisa in her current frame of mind, was it sensible to go on a trip with Diane?

  Diane noticed my hesitation. 'It would be great if you could make it, but I'd understand if you have to be with Lisa.'

  Be with Lisa? I didn't really have to be with Lisa. She could look after herself for one night. That bit about me thinking my work was more important than hers rankled. It simply wasn't true. She had betrayed my trust in her for the benefit of her career: I could go on a simple business trip for the benefit of mine.

  'No, I'm sure she'll be fine,' I said. 'I'll be glad to come.'

  Lisa arrived home at half past nine, by which time my anger at what she had done had subsided a little, and my concern about how she was behaving had grown. She looked terrible, lines of fatigue and misery ravaging her face.

  'Lisa, I'd like to talk to you about the take-over.'

  She dumped her bag on a chair. 'There really isn't any point, Simon.'

  'But Lisa . . . '

  'There's no point. Have you had dinner?'

  'Not yet.'

  Lisa ordered some Chinese to be delivered, and picked up her book. I turned on the TV. When the food came we ate in silence. I made a couple of half-hearted attempts to start a conversation, but with little success. I was still angry, so I soon gave up.

  I had developed a headache myself. I rummaged around in the bathroom cabinet for Lisa's Tylenol. I had to remove a paper bag to get at it. Inside were two bottles of pills, unlabelled. I opened them, and poured out a couple of the tablets. They were unmarked. I forgot the Tylenol, and took the bottles into the living room.

  'Lisa. What are these?'

  She looked up. 'BP 56,' she said. She looked me in the eye, defying me to say anything.

  'BP 56! But that hasn't been tested on humans yet.'

  'It has now.'

  'Lisa! Can't you wait for those volunteers to take it? It might be dangerous.'

  'Of course it isn't dangerous, Simon. It's been thoroughly tested on animals. And how could I allow volunteers to take a drug I wasn't prepared to take myself?'

  'Oh, Lisa.'

  'Simon, if there are any problems with the drug, I need to know now so we can do something about them. We can't afford to wait until we've gone through all the paperwork with the FDA.'

  'But is it allowed?'

  'Technically, no,' said Lisa. 'And if you told anyone at work, I could get into big trouble. But this kind of thing has been done plenty of times. Jonas Salk injected his whole family with polio to prove his vaccine worked. I'm not doing anything as dangerous as that.'

  'I don't think it's a good idea, Lisa. Why didn't you tell me?'

  She sighed. 'Because I knew you wouldn't like it. But I have to do it, Simon.'

  I put the pills back in the bathroom. It seemed to me foolhardy for Lisa to take this untried drug, especially in the state she was in, but I knew there was no chance of me persuading her.

  The phone rang. I picked it up.

  'Hello?'

  'Can I speak to Lisa?'

  I recognized Eddie's voice. No 'hello', no 'how are you?'

  'Hold on.' I looked up. 'It's Eddie.'

  'I'll take it in the bedroom,' Lisa said.

  She emerged twenty minutes later.

  'How is he?' I asked.

  'I'd say he's quite upset,' Lisa replied icily.

  'Did you discuss any more of his theories?'

  'If Eddie wants to talk about Dad, I'll listen to him,' Lisa said, picking up her book again.

  It angered me that Eddie and Lisa were talking about me as a murder suspect behind my back. But I bit my tongue. There was one thing I had to tell Lisa, though. I waited for a good moment, but once again there wasn't one. So I told her just as we were getting into bed.

  'I'm going to Cincinnati with Diane next Monday. I'll be out one night.'

  Lisa looked at me sharply. 'Next Monday?'

  'Yes. We've been through this before. I have to go.'

  'OK,' she said, climbing into bed.

  'Come on, Lisa. I can't refuse to go.'

  'You do what you have to do,' she said, rolling over.

  'I will,' I muttered.

  12

  As Art had promised, BioOne made a public announcement the following morning about its intentions for Boston Peptides. Back at my desk, I called up the news service on my computer and looked at the press release there. The text was pretty bland, apart from one killer sentence.

  'Daniel!' I called across to him.

  'Yeah?'

  'Have you seen the BioOne announcement?'

  'Yes.'

  'What's this about "substantial cost savings at Boston Peptides"?'

  'BioOne thinks it can cut out some duplicated costs. It can move Boston Peptides into its building in Kendall Square. And other things.'

  'Like firing people?'

  Daniel shrugged. 'That's what happens in take-overs. You heard Enever.'

  'But there was no need to announce it to the whole world, was there?'

  'Why not?' Daniel smiled. 'Hey! The stock's up four to forty-nine.'

  'Well, that's wonderful, then.' I put my head in my hands. Lisa was going to love this.

  Sure enough, the announcement had caused uproar at Boston Peptides, with rumours flying. But at least Lisa was willing to talk that evening.

  'People are really upset,' she said. 'They're talking about resigning.'

  'Is Enever really that bad?' I asked.

  'Oh, yes. You know what they call him at BioOne?'

  'What?'

  'Enema.'

  'Sounds attractive.' It was a good name. I remembered his pained, irritated demeanour.

  'It turns out he didn't even discover neuroxil-5.'

  'He must have the patent, surely?'

  'Yes, he does. Or at least BioOne does. Most of the work was done at the institute he worked at in Australia. He was just one of a team. He took the idea with him to America and patented it here.'

  'How did he get away with that?'

  'Apparently, the Australians didn't know, or if they did, they didn't care. One of the other members of the team came to the US and tried to kick up a fuss. I don't think he got anywhere. Once a patent has been granted, it's very hard to prove prior art. Enema employs pretty fearsome patent lawyers. They argued that neuroxil-5 was slightly different from the drug the Australians had developed.'

  'Sounds like a great guy.'

  Yeah. Also, there are rumours that some of BioOne's early research results were manipulated.'

  'Jesus. Why the hell did we back him?'

  Lisa sighed. 'He sounds convincing. The stock market loves him. I'm worried he'll muscle his way into running things at Boston Peptides, and hog all the credit for anything we produce.'

  From what I had seen, that prospect looked quite likely. I hadn't yet told Lisa about Enever's little presentation. Somehow, it never seemed like quite the right time. 'I hope he leaves you alone,' I said.

  Lisa gave me a withering look. 'I think that's highly unlikely.' She switched on the TV. 'Weren't you going out with Kieran tonight?'

  'No, that's OK. He won't miss me. I'll stay here with you.'

  'Don't worry about me,' said Lisa neutrally. 'You go, Simon.'

  'I can stay – '

  'Go.'

  So I went.

  The Red Hat was a frequent haunt of ours when Kieran and I were at business school. It was a dark basement bar only a few minutes' walk from our apartment.

  Kieran was already the
re, with half a dozen others from our business school days who had found jobs around Boston. Daniel wasn't present. He had tended to avoid the group occasions at business school, and certainly avoided them now. Pitchers of beer were bought and drunk. There was some tedious talk at first of 'B-school', 'I-banks', 'VCs' and pay cheques, but then the conversation regressed a couple of years to women, drink and sport. I forgot Frank's death, Sergeant Mahoney and Lisa's problems, and my brain went pleasantly fuzzy.

  I left early and arrived home at about half past ten, ready to tumble into bed. I didn't make it.

  Lisa was sitting on the sofa. She was wearing her running clothes. She was crying.

  'Lisa!' I moved over to sit by her on the sofa.

  'Get away from me!' she cried.

  I stopped in mid stride. 'OK,' I said. 'What's wrong?'

  She opened her mouth to say something, then her bottom lip shook, and she bit it. Tears rolled down her face. I moved towards her again.

  'I said, get away from me!'

  I held up my hands in a calming gesture. 'OK, OK,' I said, and backed off to sit in the armchair.

  I waited.

  Lisa sobbed, and sniffed, and took a deep breath. 'I found it, Simon.'

  'Found what?'

  'What do you think?'

  'I don't know. Tell me.'

  'The gun. The gun that shot Dad.'

  'What! Where?'

  Lisa glared at me. 'Where do you think? Right there!' She pointed at the large closet embedded in one wall of the living room. 'I was looking for an old photo album I had as a kid, with pictures of Dad. I found it OK. But underneath was a revolver. A Smith and Wesson model six forty, three fifty-seven Magnum. I looked it up on the Smith and Wesson web site.' She pointed to our computer in the corner of the room. The screen was filled with an image of a short, stubby revolver. 'The police said that was the type of gun that killed Dad. And two bullets were missing. It's the gun all right.'

  'You found it here?' I said. 'In the closet?'

  'That's right. And I want to know how it got there.'

  I thought quickly. I had no idea how it could have got there. 'Someone must have planted it.'

  'Yeah, right. Like who?'

  'I don't know. Hold on. Didn't the police search the closet last week? They didn't find anything then.'