McDARVID PICKED UP THE TELEPHONE three times in a row, setting it down twice before finally punching in the number he had been using all too often.
“You have reached a nonworking federal number.”
McDarvid punched in the three digits.
“This is Jack McDarvid—”
“I’ll see if he’s available, Mr. McDarvid.”
The line went dead as McDarvid waited.
“Yes, Jack. What’s up now? Another policy paper? Or some new facts?”
“I thought you might be able to tell me, Eric. Yesterday my partner was asked to have a friendly chat with some fellows. Just a friendly chat, you understand, except they wanted to know why we were making inquiries.”
“Hold on. I need a few more details.”
McDarvid sighed. “All right. From the top. We were hired by JAFFE. You knew that. We keep running into brick walls. And people started tailing us. At least sometimes. So Jonnie decided to try another tack. He started by trying to find out more about JAFFE.” He paused. “He started the inquiries last Wednesday. Today is Thursday, one week and one day later, and he’s been requested to have coffee tomorrow morning. One of your off-site specials. Supposedly, the contact’s name is Murrill. M-U-R-R-I-L-L. He says he’s with DOD. Is there any way to find out if he’s legitimate?”
McDarvid paused. “I’d also like to know what DIA is doing with a French multinational and environmental regs dealing with metals.”
“Hmmmmm … I don’t think he’s one of ours. I’ll get back to you shortly.”
McDarvid turned back to the computer, forcing himself to concentrate on the summary of the status of the special review of yet another pesticide registered by United Agricare—for poor Steve Greene, who was still struggling with the effort to pick up Larry’s pesticide practice.
“… teratogenic effects illustrated by Rangely mouse study…”
He wondered how long before Eric would call back, if in fact his former boss would find out who and what special agent Murrill was all about. And in some ways, Murrill was less scary than JAFFE. Why was JAFFE keeping tabs on its contractors? Or running a private intelligence network?
Buzzzz …
He grabbed the intercom, nearly tipping over the swivel chair. “Yes.”
“Find out anything yet, Jack?” Jonnie sounded preoccupied, and that was as close to worried as he ever sounded.
“No. I’ve got someone looking.”
“Someone?”
“An old friend who might know. I’ll let you know. All right?”
“Okay … I guess.”
“I’ll let you know,” McDarvid repeated before setting the phone down.
Finally, he returned to explaining the likelihood of the special review resulting in a partial ban on the use of Kiltough, the United Agricare granular pesticide being investigated by DEP.
After a late lunch at his desk and another call from Jonnie, Eric actually called.
“He’s not ours.”
“You already knew that. Is he DIA?”
“Sort of. He’s DIA, but on detail to the National Security Council.”
“What does the White House have to do with this?”
“They didn’t tell us.”
“Any ideas?”
“None whatever. But check last Thursday’s business section. And tomorrow’s paper for … French developments. And, obviously, I know nothing, except that Murrill’s for real. And … Jack…”
“Yes.”
“I’m telling you this so you don’t have to make any more inquiries.”
“Understood. Thanks, Eric.”
“My pleasure. This time.”
McDarvid frowned. Eric didn’t like the inquiries. That came across loud and clear. Probably a trade-off—but what? He reached for the intercom.
“Yes?” Jonnie’s voice was cautious.
“Find the business section of last Thursday’s Post and come on down.”
“Last Thursday’s business section—a week ago?”
“That’s the one.”
“All right, but what’s the mystery?”
“We’ll both have a better idea if you can locate it. I didn’t get a straight answer.”
“It may take a while.”
McDarvid had finished the first draft of the special review paper by the time Jonnie dragged in with a tattered copy of the week-old business section.
“Managed to reclaim it from the recycling pile.”
“Have you read it?”
“Not since last Thursday, if I even read it then. You do the honors, since you seem to know what you’re looking for.” Jonnie thrust the paper at McDarvid.
The story was buried on the bottom of F-2. McDarvid read it aloud.
Washington. Today, attorneys for the Justice Department retracted their objections to the acquisition of Pherndahl-Elkins by JAFFE International, a French multinational. According to industry sources, JAFFE has recently acquired a number of smaller companies involved in computer and space technology. Pherndahl-Elkins, a Colorado-based manufacturer, specializes in advanced microchip technology …
“They like to acquire high-tech companies.” Jonnie’s tone was not quite sardonic.
“I learned something else,” McDarvid added. “This was a deal. The second half will appear in tomorrow’s paper. And Murrill’s real. He is DIA, but he’s on detail to the National Security Council.”
“What’s he do there?”
“Beats me.”
“How did you find this out?”
McDarvid repressed a sigh. “One of my former bosses. He also suggested we stop investigating JAFFE. Very strongly.”
“That doesn’t exactly reassure me, Jack.”
“It doesn’t reassure me, either. I just hope we can figure out what story he was referring to that’s supposed to appear tomorrow morning.”
“Un … huhhh…” Jonnie did not look at McDarvid.
McDarvid cleared his throat. “Jonnie, this ties rather neatly to what you found out about JAFFE’s hiring practices.”
“Yeah, it does. Pherndahl-Elkins is a relatively small high-tech company, working on the next generation chip manufacturing technology. Right now, all sorts of chips can be designed that can’t be produced. Companies just can’t etch enough lines through the chip without the circuits crossing or the chip burning out. Pherndahl-Elkins is developing techniques for manufacturing the next generation of very high density chips using new technologies and materials.” Jonnie suddenly grinned.
“Why do I suspect that these new technologies and materials involve some of the same materials involved in the metals initiative?”
“You’re just a quick study, I guess.”
“Can we presume that Pherndahl sold out because they ran out of options to raise money.”
Jonnie nodded. “It’s not cheap trying to develop new high-technology manufacturing processes. Still, I’d bet there was a lot of opposition to the sale. Probably most of DOD and even a few people at Commerce objected to selling a high-tech firm like Pherndahl to a foreign company, even one based in a more or less friendly country.”
“Like I said, this is some sort of deal. But we can’t figure out what sort until we see the morning paper.”
Jonnie yawned and looked at his watch. “What I don’t understand is why an American firm didn’t step in and buy Pherndahl. There are enough companies with more cash than they know what to do with. Getting Pherndahl would be a hell of an opportunity for someone.”
“There’s a simple answer there.” McDarvid snorted. “American companies are long-term risk averse. They don’t want to spend a lot of money on a project that may not pay off for years, if at all. Stockholders want to see profits now. They don’t want to hear about buying a company that, at best, will only turn a small profit for years and isn’t even good for a nice tax write-off. Even if doing so will contribute to the nation’s technology base and their own long-term profitability.”
“So the French will take over our high-tech industry?” asked Jonnie.
“You prefer the Japanese?”
“Does it make a difference? At least somebody is interested in building for the future.”
McDarvid grimaced. “That’s all I know for the moment. We can figure out the next step tomorrow—once we see what’s in the paper.” He stood up slowly and looked toward the briefcase on the credenza. “Late night for Allyson, and time to head out and rescue the baby-sitter from the kids.”
“Oh … yeah … See you tomorrow, Jack.”
McDarvid shook his head. What sort of trade-off had Eric hinted at, and why had he let on that much—just to stop further investigations?
No. Whatever happened tomorrow had to close a chapter. It was Eric’s way of saying, it’s over. Don’t upset things by mucking around. But what was over, and what did it have to do with JAFFE?
He picked up the briefcase and walked toward the elevator.