At The Edge

by David Dun

  "Well, Frank, tell them about the chemistry," Dr. Sanford said after making introductions all around.

  "That's fairly easy except you only got a small part of the equation. This is a portion of an equation that I believe describes a process for the conversion of wood fiber into something like an alcohol or a methanol. Unfortunately, you didn't get the interesting part. Nothing in the middle or the end. I'd love to see it. My gut tells me they are on to something new."

  "Could it be valuable?"

  "Turning wood into liquid gold? Yeah, it could be valuable. How valuable is Saudi Arabia if its wells never run dry? A new process to convert wood to fuel that's cheaper and maybe more efficient and you have something analogous to Saudi Arabia with no end in the oil supply. You can always grow a new tree."

  "Does whoever wrote this have such a process?"

  "It looks interesting, but I need the rest."

  "So all we can discern is that they are turning wood into a fuel, like a petroleum substitute."

  "I think you have it."

  They were on their way to La Jolla and Maria's parents. Maria's mother had met them at the airport upon their arrival and had taken Nate home while they proceeded to the university. Now Dan couldn't resist asking, "Is there something you haven't told me about all this? You've been nervous all day."

  "Like what?"

  "Like why a hard-driving businessman would be home in the early afternoon to see a daughter with whom he has only a formal, chilly-I believe that is the word- relationship. Like why you're nervous about it."

  "Do I look nervous?" she asked. "You know it's really irritating when you smirk like that. And I said that it was a slowly thawing, chilly relationship."

  "What's the matter?" he asked. "

  Well, maybe this whole business of taking Nate to the zoo looks a little like something it's not."

  "We've gone over that ad nauseam."

  "So we have."

  "But my parents may not believe we're all business. That we're just doing this to get away from this mess and for Nate."

  "So?"

  "So my father may want to meet you."

  ''This is the father whom you barely speak to. Why would you care?"

  "It's complicated. We're in the end stage of the fight. The maneuvering stage. So just try to get through it the best you can. I'm debating on going inside by myself to pick up Nate."

  "I'm that much of an embarrassment?"

  "No. Don't you get it? You represent Jeb Otran. You're fucking perfect. He'll fawn all over you. He'll want to smoke cigars, drink bourbon, and do whatever it is you business guys do when you're sniffing around each other's butts."

  "Can't really say as I'm familiar with this butt-sniffing ritual."

  "You know what I mean."

  ''I think you mean you're terrified I'll get along famously with your father, something you can't do, and you'll be mad as hell."

  "You could help me out here, you know. Just a quick introduction and explain how anxious you are to get Nate to the zoo."

  "Why don't you just tell him I have pink hearts on my boxer shorts? Maybe I've turned gay or something."

  "You're going to torture me, aren't you?"

  "Maybe not. Say, not to change the subject, but how is your boyfriend, Ross?"

  "I think he's fine. We haven't seen each other a lot recently."

  "Does he know you're turning lukewarm?"

  "Beg pardon?"

  "Oh, come on, I thought we were the no-bullshit team."

  Maria looked away. "I think he thinks we're just taking a little breather."

  "From sleeping together?"

  Maria smiled and shook her head as if shocked by the question. "Candor is one thing. Rude is another."

  "Well, you can tell me to shut up."

  "Good. Shut up."

  "Look, it's no big deal, maybe Ross would like to go to the zoo with us."

  "Dan?"

  "Yes."

  "Stop it. We're absolutely clear on what we're about."

  "Absolutely clear. So me having a drink with your dad, a little talk, shouldn't hurt anything?"

  "That's it. You wait in the car. I'll get Nate."

  "Awfully rude, don't you think? Not to say even hello?"

  "Please don't do this to me."

  "We could make a deal. I won't say anything about us to your dad if you'll tell me about Ross."

  "There is no 'us.' "

  "Right, and I'll make that perfectly crystal clear if you tell me about Ross."

  "It depends on what you want to know."

  "He's a biologist, isn't he? Works for the state? What level is he?"

  "If you're suggesting my father doesn't like him for his occupation, you're wrong. Even my father isn't quite that crass."

  "Why doesn't he like him?"

  "Because Ross is a very calm sort of even-tempered guy who doesn't go off the deep end about things. Are you happy?"

  "When I've seen him, he sure hasn't been calm."

  "I mean about life, not about you."

  "You mean he's unambitious."

  "You can really be a jerk, you know."

  "You've got chutzpah. Your dad probably just wants an even match in a husband."

  "You and my dad, with your power trips." She shook her head. "He's gonna love you. So just don't let him get the wrong idea. Please."

  19

  Kenji sat beneath a crystal chandelier at the Bankers Club, a private luncheon establishment known for its good food and fast service. Often he stayed in San Francisco and worked in the city offices instead of driving to the operations headquarters for Amada in Palmer.

  "I'm worried about exactly what Schneider got out of Kim Lee," he said to Groiter.

  "You have my report. Nothing but a mention of bats and Catherine Swanson."

  "What about Catherine Swanson?"

  "He was incoherent. Said Catherine Swanson was in his briefcase or something. We looked and there was nothing of Catherine Swanson."

  "Do you believe her?"

  "In a word, yes. She might hide a few things. On the whole we have an understanding."

  "Because you beat her senseless?"

  "No, it's much deeper than that."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I think I know what makes her tick."

  "That bitch could have tortured Kim Lee. Pumped him for information. Got him to spill his guts."

  "Relax. It didn't happen."

  "Those lawyers are making you look like an idiot. Schneider is supposed to kill them at the courthouse, and then she claims some guy stopped her. Who?"

  "She thinks he was Japanese."

  Kenji gripped the table sides. "Japanese? Why didn't you tell me this immediately?"

  "I wanted to be certain, but all we have is her word. She thinks he was Japanese."

  "You don't think he's from my wife's family?"

  "Let's not jump to conclusions."

  ''Somebody broke into the compound and killed the dogs. Could-"

  The waiter came across the room with a brown envelope in his hand.

  "A lady asked me to give you this," he said, handing it to Groiter.

  The envelope was made of thick paper and sealed with masking tape. Kenji could see that it came from Groiter's assistant. From in front of his place setting, Groiter took the sharp knife and deftly cut through the tape and the top flap as well. Parting the envelope, he looked inside. He pulled out a white sheet of paper and handed it to Kenji.

  "It's a summary from the wiretap and the surveillance," he said. It explained in some detail how two of Groiter's men had followed Young and Fischer to the University of Southern California campus to meet with a zoologist whose specialty was bats.

  "So they're still at it. Your warning meant nothing."

  "It's kept them out of the compound. They don't think anybody could possibly know about the visit to the university."

  "It could unravel everything."

  "Next time we'll get it right. If she takes ou
t Dan Young, that will do it," Groiter said.

  "I don't want to hear about it. I just want them to go away. Got it?"

  "Got it. Consider it over."

  With a cup of coffee in her hand, Corey walked to the phone without so much as a limp. It amazed her that she had recovered from the beatings so quickly. The German and Asian were both technicians.

  "After a little rest you will be ready to do something big."

  "What should I do?"

  "Dan Young is corrupting what little good was coming from Maria Fischer."

  "Which one should I kill first?"

  "We'll talk later. How are you feeling?"

  "Like shit," she lied. She actually wanted this man's sympathy.

  "I am sorry. You will feel better, I promise. As always, let us be your eyes and ears."

  Literally within sixty seconds a knock came on her front door. She jacked a round in her Colt and looked out the fish-eye viewer. Nobody. What she saw made her suck in her breath. Set back on the porch, in the light of a small lantern, was a sign. It said only: dan young.

  Not surprisingly, by morning the sign was gone.

  The Fischers' home was a spacious, modern affair, an angular collection of glass and white stucco. It shared a scenic hillside with a number of other homes of similar size and distinction, none closer than one hundred yards away. A sweeping circular drive passed through a portico at both ends, and guests entered the house through massive oak double doors.

  Dan chuckled when they drove up. And laughed when he saw her stiffen.

  "OK, you've had your laugh."

  "I'll take it easy," he said.

  Mrs. Fischer, who wore a long, flowing, deep blue housecoat, greeted him warmly with a double handshake before kissing her daughter.

  ''Nathaniel is playing Nintendo,'' Mrs. Fischer said. Trim, with no gray streaks in her blond hair and the same high cheekbones and big eyes as Maria, Laura Fischer appeared to be in her late forties, at least a decade younger than she must be. "Welcome. We're just delighted you could come."

  "Well, I actually promised Nate a trip to the zoo," Dan said as if on cue.

  "Maria, my beautiful daughter." Amiel Fischer came out of a large hallway to the left. A balding man, about 5' 10", with a strong baritone voice. "And you've brought your friend." He extended his hand to Dan.

  "Colleague," Maria corrected.

  "Colleague and coadventurer, I understand from your mother. Surely, you two don't have to rush off. At the least I'd like to show Dan my den, my scotch, and my humidor. It's not often I meet a friend of my daughter's."

  Fischer gestured powerfully with his hands even as he spoke in smooth, unhurried tones. Intelligence lit his eyes, and a thin, black mustache, as dapper as the crisp white handkerchief in the pocket of his herringbone blazer, accented his dark, handsome face. He seemed an avalanche of energy, and suddenly Dan understood the intensity of Maria's conflict with her father. He was an intriguing man, and Dan found himself curious. It was as Maria had feared.

  "I promised to take Nate to the zoo. We don't really have time."

  Amiel looked at Maria. "Not even for a single drink? Just a few minutes for your old man?"

  Maria hesitated. ''Dan, I think we could take a few minutes, what do you think?"

  "Sure," Dan said.

  "But, Daddy, I know Dan wants to get going, so please don't capture him." Maria's emphasis on the word "know" sounded as if she were jumping on the single syllable with both feet.

  "Well, we'll hurry with that one drink, then."

  Mr. Fischer led Dan on a brief tour. The foyer was large, two stories tall, with massive vertical beams along the side-walls and matching beams above. Custom milled, with dark oak moldings, the windows and doors matched the crown molding throughout the house. A hardwood staircase with Persian runner and stained balustrade climbed to the balcony overlooking the foyer. Past the foyer was a spacious living room, bordered by a formal dining room. Immediately to the right were double swinging doors, beyond which lay the kitchen and the adjoining family room. To the left and down the hall, there was a library with cherry or mahogany ceiling, deep-hued paneling and bookcases. At one end was a massive fireplace. Through the back corner of the library was a den hidden behind what was probably a bedroom accessed through the main downstairs hallway.

  In the den were two soft leather chairs in dark brown and a fabric couch in earth tones. There were two beautiful oils, one of Laura Fischer and one of Maria in her late teens. On his desk and the shelves behind were photographs of his wife and daughter. Most were of Maria. Dan winced at some indefinable thought about Amiel Fischer and his daughter. For a moment he couldn't put his finger on it. Then he knew: Amiel felt he had lost Maria and so he had surrounded himself with her pictures. The parallel with Dan's own life was unmistakable. Amiel pushed a button on a disc player and soft jazz came on.

  "What do you drink?"

  "Mostly beer, but Dewar's and water is good."

  "I have that." He opened a massive liquor cabinet with one of the best stocks Dan had ever seen. The Dewar's was way in the back in the economy class. Up front were twenty-five-year-old Glenlivet, Crown Royal, and the like. Amiel poured him a heavy tumbler, more than he could possibly drink and stay rock-hard sober.

  "I hear you're a big football fan."

  "Yeah, that's true. Niners."

  "Well, of course I'm a Rams man myself. USC coach and I get together all the time. In the off season we watch tapes when he's getting ready for the next season." Dan nodded appropriately.

  "Not to change the subject but I listen to my wife. She says my daughter is at least a little bit fond of you."

  Dan sighed, and sipped his drink. At least Amiel was getting right to the point.

  "One thing I'll say for you, Mr. Fischer."

  "Please call me Amiel."

  "You don't waste a lot of time with small talk."

  "That comes later. I know you're no weak sister. Maybe you drink a bit much lately, but you've got guts. Why should I waste time on trivialities?"

  "We each have our issues-Maria and I-so we both get jumpy when you use words like 'fond.' "

  "So you do this pretend thing?"

  "Well, I'm not sure it's all pretend, but more or less. Yeah. We gotta be saying it's one thing while maybe we're doing something else."

  "I love my daughter more than life itself. At the moment I'm afraid it's not mutual."

  "Actually, I think it is."

  "You do?"

  "I think she desperately wants to find a way back."

  "Do you love her?"

  "I don't know. Maybe on occasion it's starting to feel something like that, but that has to stay between you and me."

  "I confess I've done some checking. Probably not right. I found out you're a good man. I run across Jeb Otran from time to time. I called him."

  Dan shook his head and smiled.

  "If you end up together, I would really like to get to know you. When it's appropriate."

  "I understand," Dan said.

  "What do you think of her boyfriend, Ross?"

  "I don't know him very well."

  "Come on."

  "She's falling out of love with him, but she'd never tell you or me that."

  "She was never in love with him. He was the opposite of me. That's all he had going for him."

  "And you think deep down she wants somebody like you?"

  "Not just like me. A New Age man who's you know- sensitive. Respects women as they call it. I mean I respect women, but you know, I don't try to get in touch with my feminine side. I stay firmly attached to my balls."

  Dan laughed. ''Yeah, I can see where you and your daughter must get down and dirty when you fight."

  ''We've both got strong wills. Now how you gonna knock her boyfriend off? You going to wait till he falls off a cliff or push a little?"

  ''Amiel, I don't know if we should be having this conversation. You know she's gonna pump me for everything we talked about."


  "That's what I like about you. You got character. I'm just overanxious. I only have one daughter."

  "Amiel, when there's something to talk about, we'll talk. And if you have any hope that your grandchildren won't be fathered by a state biologist, you should let it rest and give it time. Maria and I are a long way from anywhere. I'm not getting in the middle of whatever you and your daughter have going."

  "Smart man. But promise me something."

  "What?"

  "Promise me you'll tell me when you fall in love with her."

  Dan thought for a moment. "Fair enough."

  "And one more thing. What's said on the trail stays on the trail."

  "And I gather that goes for the den too?"

  "The den too." Amiel chuckled. "Hey, before you go, I wanna show you something. Play of the century."

  Grabbing a remote, he hit the play button and there were the 49ers and the Rams.

  Dan knew this had to be a setup. Amiel must want to know if he really understood his football. This he relished.

  There was a knock on the door. Amiel punched off the player.

  "We need full concentration for this."

  Maria opened the door, looking slightly impatient.

  "Well, boys?"

  "Just one play, dear, just one play." Again he pushed the button. Niners had the ball on their own thirty-yard line. The snap, handoff, and a run up the middle that made a forty-yard gain, but for one lucky tackle, it would have been a touchdown.

  "What did you see?" Amiel asked.

  "Interesting the way the Niners countered to the short side of the field from the left hash. They took advantage of the defense's fear of Jackson's speed to the strong side."

  ''Get some eyes, Young," Maria interjected before Amiel could speak. "The Rams were in a Split-six D with the tackles pinching hard. The pulling right guard has no leverage, running into the tackle that way. Notwithstanding the forty-yard gain, the Niners would have been better served to have faked the play up the middle, and play-actioned on the tight-end delay." She paused. "That would have been six points."

  Wanting to get even, Dan thought for a second. "You embarrass all your boyfriends in front of your daddy?"