Razing Beijing: A Thriller (46 page)

Stuart slowly shook his head. “I had the impression that
Paul was a fairly capable outdoorsman.”

“You knew him that well, then?”

“No, not really.”

“We understand that the storm was very severe,” Carter explained.
“The Canadians investigating his disappearance are convinced that he drowned. They
also have evidence suggesting alcohol may have been a contributing factor. They’ve
called off the search for his body.”

“There are some things about him that we hope you can help
us to understand,” Hildebrandt added.

“I’ll certainly try.”

“You mentioned attending college together. Had you stayed
in touch over the years?”

“No.”

“Not even occasionally? Maybe you’d heard of his
whereabouts through the friend of a friend, that sort of thing?”

Stuart considered the question. “I might’ve heard or read
in alumni mailings that he’d gone on to law school. He and I caught up on a few
such things after he arrived at Thanatech.”

“It was University of Wisconsin Law.”

“If you say so. That would have been almost twenty years
ago.”

“Had you heard of any of his extracurricular activities
there?”

“None that I recall. Like what?”

“Does the name Frank Sweeney mean anything to you?”

Stuart thought a moment before answering. “I don’t think
so. Should it?”

“You hadn’t heard that Mr. Devinn became active in a
Marxist extremist organization?”

“Paul, a Marxist? That’s ridiculous.”

“Why so?”

“Well, for one thing, I thought the guy grew up surrounded
by money. Doesn’t strike me as the background of somebody who’d go off in a
direction like that.”

“In this business, Mr. Stuart, we learn things about people
you’d never have thought,” Hildebrandt said. “It so happens that in the years
following law school, Mr. Devinn spent a fair amount of time living in Asia. Records
indicate that you made numerous trips there as well.”

It was apparent after a moment that the agents expected him
to expound. Stuart explained that his business had required him to frequently
travel overseas in order to market his company’s products.

“What type of products?”

“Medical devices, lasers for conducting ophthalmologic
exams and surgery. Later we developed opto-electronic switches for the telecom
industry.” Stuart explained that their company marketed as well as contract
manufactured in China, which is a source of highly pure erbium deposits used in
the manufacture of optical fiber.

“This was for the company you founded?”

“I co-founded CLI, that’s correct.”

“Your trips took you to China, Malaysia, Singapore,
Thailand, Japan, Taiwan?”

“What’s my travel history got to do—”

“Did you ever meet Mr. Devinn on any of these trips?”

Stuart realized the FBI was indulging in theories other
than who might have killed Thompson. Or were they? “I never made contact with
him when I was traveling. I thought I already told you. Paul and I fell out of
touch.”

“And yet you hired Mr. Devinn when you were working at Thanatech?”

“Well, I guess that’s true. I was asked to interview Paul
because he had told our recruiter that we were acquaintances.”

“Can you describe what you discussed during the interview?”
Agent Carter asked.

Stuart realized they were really trolling now, in
open-ended fashion, as anyone who’d ever properly interviewed a job candidate would
recognize. “I don’t recall—no, that’s not entirely true. I remember asking why
he wasn’t practicing law. He said that he had for a while but simply didn’t
like it.”

Carter smiled pleasantly. “You recommended that Thanatech
hire him?”

“I thought that he had a reasonable resume, and he’d worked
in similar industries at similar companies. I’m sure you have all that. It was
a human resources posting.”

Vacant stares.

“I guess my first impressions of the guy back in college
were of somebody uncertain of what he was about—he might’ve changed majors or
something, I don’t recall. We took some of the same classes, frequented some of
the same parties. Years later he shows up with a law degree and a respectable
looking resume. That’s about all there is to it.”

Hildebrandt leaned forward. “Why did you hire Emily Chang
to come work for you at CLI?”

Stuart allowed the question to hang for a moment.
Could
they truly suspect Emily?
“I thought this was a query into the death of
Sean Thompson.”

“Mr. Thompson worked for Emily Chang at the time of his
murder. And now, well...CLI is your company. I suppose you can hire whoever you
choose, isn’t that right?”

“I don’t think I have to answer that.”

“You don’t. Let me rephrase it. You hire—”

“I hired Miss Chang at CLI because her professional
qualifications are uniquely tailored to the challenge we face. Having worked
with her at Thanatech, I knew her to be extremely intelligent, diligent, and
thorough. She earns the respect of her associates and staff, and is able to
push them hard because of it. My hiring her had nothing to do with any sort of
quota. Nor was it because we’re romantically involved, which we are not, as I
explained to Miss Carter during our first conversation. Does that answer your
question?”

Special Agent Hildebrandt flipped another page of his
notes. “I think that about covers it. We see there’s a lawsuit pending against
you for negligent manslaughter.”

“What’s
that
got to do with—”

“Sean Thompson’s murder? Perhaps you’re right. I guess it’s
more likely relevant to the cause of the airplane crash in Mojave.” Hildebrandt
focused his eyes on Stuart.

Stuart returned the stare. Is
that
what this is
about? He suddenly felt awash in irony.
Emily and I sit on the incriminating
evidence, and it comes full circle to incriminate us.
Hadn’t Thanatech
announced their determination of the cause...?

“Something funny, Mr. Stuart?”

“I’m wondering if I should have a lawyer present.”

“That’s certainly your prerogative. I’ll reiterate that you
are not currently considered a suspect.”

“For what, specifically?”

“And your visit this morning is strictly voluntary,
although anything you say may be held against you in the future should our
investigation require it.” Hildebrandt paused, his expression poker-faced. “You’re
not trying to suggest that that is going to be necessary, are you?”

Stuart looked back and forth between his inquisitors. “I’d
like to ask you a question.”

Hildebrandt sat back in his chair. “Fire away.”

Stuart felt a trickle of perspiration wend its way from
under his arm down to his waist. “What or who was it that drew the FBI into investigating
the Thanatech crash?”

“The airplane crash? It was our understanding that the investigation
was closed. In any case, generally speaking, we don’t divulge such information.
I’m sure you understand.” Hildebrandt seemed on the verge of more directly
answering his question. But the moment passed, and the man only shrugged. “You
seem to have a good bit at stake in the outcome, financially speaking. You’d
tell us if you knew something pertinent to the crash investigation, wouldn’t
you?”

Stuart thought for a moment before smiling. “It occurs to
me how my agreeing to that would suggest the FBI
should
be told about it.
Maybe you know something about the crash that I don’t?”

Hildebrandt rose from his chair. “I don’t believe we do. But
thanks again for coming by.”

AT 2:47 ON THURSDAY
AFTERNOON,
completing its ninety minute drive from the Capitol, a black
Lincoln Towne Car belonging to the senate carpool arrived at the main of lobby
of Coherent Light, Incorporated. The limousine driver opened the left rear door
for Senator Milner, who emerged squinting into the bright afternoon sunlight,
stretching his arms as he surveyed the office buildings and parking lot. Kenneth
Hobbs, his assistant campaign director and senior aide, joined his boss as they
entered CLI’s lobby and the antiseptic reception awaiting them.

During the years spent hammering the company into a
thriving operation, and his subsequent sojourn at Thanatechnology, Stuart had
always consigned the job of political hobnobbing to somebody else. Perhaps that
was why, from the instant Norman Milner entered the building, the overweight Maryland
senator was not the man Stuart would have envisioned for an elected national
figure. Milner wore his hair in some sort of pompadour. The narrow gray tuft of
hair, along with the diamond studs Milner sported in his ears, seemed
undignified for an elected official. Stuart also thought it incongruent that
Milner arrived for a visit with hardscrabble engineers wearing an expensive
Saville Row pin-stripe suit, his light-gray handkerchief peaked above the
breast pocket, a white starch-collared shirt and an aquamarine silk tie with
tiny black dots, the latter punctuated over his belly with a gold STOP HATE bar
tack. On the other hand, the senator’s way of greeting him while pumping his
hand, and flashing his blue eyes and wide confident smile, made Stuart feel as
though he were the focus of Milner’s undivided attention. Kenneth Hobbs looked
to be in his thirties and as Perry had tried to explain, already he was something
of a campaign strategist extraordinaire. Stuart found the exceptionally good
looking Hobbs thoroughly deadpan. The political hack, if that was the term,
seemed bored from the moment Stuart gripped the weak handshake.

Perry had arranged for a talented engineer in the Detector
Module group, Sylvia Rodriguez, to present the senator and his aide with a
brief technical overview of the Project. The deputy assistant secretary from
the Department of Energy’s Office of Transportation Technologies finally arrived,
and Stuart got to introduce the trio to representatives of the Swiss and French
engineering contingents—he had hoped to find this interesting but following a
brief exchange, nobody seemed to have anything to say. They then walked through
some office areas and the supercomputer facility, every few feet stopping to
allow the senator time to stump with employees. An hour after Milner’s arrival,
Stuart led the entourage toward the well in order to witness the test, its
preparation already in progress.

Stuart walked beside Kenneth Hobbs while Perry and the
senator discussed the importance of satisfying the economy’s energy needs
without despoiling the environment. Stuart noted Perry’s adoption of the sexier
sounding ‘satellite transport system’ instead of ‘tele-transportation device’
that seemed to glaze over the senator’s eyes.

Milner released the hand of a passing employee. “I like the
prospect for clean, sustainable transport,” he told Perry, “but should this
contraption ever really be sent into orbit—beg pardon, I don’t mean to sound
pessimistic.”

“We’re having our share of problems,” Perry acknowledged. He
repeated his rejoinder that the senator should expect tonight’s demonstration
to represent a work-in-progress.

“It’s just that I’m concerned about...we’ve discussed my
concern for the disruption to the nation’s trucking and air freight sectors. I
appreciate the environmental arguments. These are real working people whose
jobs will be affected by this.”

Stuart thought the reasonable concern was fundamentally at
odds with developing the system to begin with.

Perry might’ve sensed this and was quick to agree with the
senator. “However, we will have time to prepare. We’re talking quite a few
years down the road.”

“How many years?”

“Stu, what would you say? Ten? Fifteen?”

“I would say many years,” Stuart replied. “Maybe.”

“Fifteen years,” Perry said, blinking his eyes and turning
from Stuart. “That’s time enough to plan the phase-in of a well regulated
system, with plenty of...safety nets. I think by then CLI might even be in a
position to help sponsor a government job skills training program, you know,
for dislocated industry. ‘Americans for Energy Independent Families Act’ has
kind of a solid ring to it.”

Senator Milner cocked an eyebrow and grunted his interest.

Stuart could barely conceal his surprise. In all their
discussions on the subject, Perry had always touted the satellite phase as a
private, free enterprise venture. To hint at conceding to regulatory
intervention, in exchange for near-term financial consideration, was something
that no real business leader in his right mind should do. Stuart wondered how
the senator could not but interpret the act of desperation for what it was.

The observation deck overlooking the well was crammed with
engineers and technicians discussing preparations; others arrived and departed
with brisk urgency. Stuart picked Thackeray out of the crowd standing near the
control console, caught his eye, and Thackeray flashed him a thumbs-up.

Perry led his charges to the spot held in reserve which
provided them a good view while not interfering with the activity. The two
visitors quickly became bored with the sophisticated console. They proceeded to
the downward-slanted observation window and gazed into the pit of the well, where
they could see dozens of technicians at work. After a minute, they cranked
their necks up at the two huge lasers suspended within the maze of aluminum
scaffolding high over their heads. To even the casual observer, it was an
awe-inspiring sight.

Stuart, Perry, and the DOE official patiently awaited the
volley of questions that was certain to follow. Instead, the pair chose to
point and consult privately over some apparently disconcerting discovery. They
appeared puzzled, edgy, overwhelmed.