Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Dan glanced at his phone. It was already nine thirty, and Gary was still engrossed in whatever was on his monitor. In fact, he hadn’t said a word for the last fifteen minutes.
Dan cleared his throat, and Gary jerked his head up. “Did you say something?”
Dan chuckled. “I thought you said we were going to interview Dr. Phillips this morning.”
“And we are. Only I got curious, so I looked her up.”
“You obviously found something interesting.”
“What do you mean?”
He grinned. “Put it this way. I could’ve been dancing on my desk naked and you wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Of course I’d have noticed.” Gary’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe.”
The temptation to lock the door one day and test that theory was huge.
“So what did you find?”
Gary leaned back. “Samantha Phillips was a child prodigy. She went to college at the age of fifteen.”
“Wow. That is one bright lady.”
“Brighter than you think. By the time she was twenty-three, she had a PhD in genetics and had started lecturing at Harvard.” He frowned.
“Not all of her history makes for pleasant reading. She turned up in police records—not for any criminal activity, but because she was the victim of domestic violence. She’d married Carl Phillips in 2000 but filed for divorce two years later.
He was an alcoholic, and according to the police reports, he used his wife as a punching bag. ”
“How old is she?”
Gary peered at the screen. “She was twenty-seven when this report was filed in 2002, so that would make her forty-three.” He shook his head.
“Then it really gets interesting. She started working with Professor Robert Martin in 2008, and while I don’t understand a lot of the scientific terms used in this article, what is clear is that between them, they’ve brought about a eureka moment in the world of science. ”
Dan crossed the floor to stand in front of Gary’s desk. “A child prodigy—a genius, possibly. Does this sound like the kind of person who would put Jonathon Wilmer’s life in jeopardy?”
“No, not really. I’m beginning to think Sherrie Thomas is jumping to crazy conclusions. That doesn’t mean we’re not going to interview Dr. Phillips. That recording took place the day before Jonathon died. She might have valuable information about him.”
“Then turn off your PC and let’s go.” Dan cocked his head. “Where is it that we’re going, exactly?”
“Harvard Medical School. Dr. Phillips lectures there, and she also has a laboratory connected to her work on genetics.”
“And can we just stroll in there?”
Gary smiled. “We can stroll anywhere. I have a badge.”
Gary was glad they had a map. The Harvard Medical School campus was enormous, with so many buildings he was beginning to wish they’d laid a trail of breadcrumbs to find their way back to the visitors’ parking lot.
“Which building did you say we’re looking for?” Dan asked.
Gary scanned their surroundings. Gordon Hall was easily the most impressive of the faculty buildings, with its faux Grecian columns.
“According to the university directory, Dr. Phillips works in the Goldenson Biomedical Research Building.” He pointed to the large building to the left of Gordon Hall. “That’s it. Her lab is on the third floor.”
They entered the main door of the building. The hallways were fairly quiet, with high ceilings and tiled floors. The murmur of voices came from multiple directions.
“Can you hear that?” Dan whispered as they walked past all the closed doors.
“Hear what?”
He grinned. “The sound of cogs turning. Right now behind those doors, there could be another Marie Curie, Francis Crick, Isaac Newton, Stephen Hawking, Elon Musk.”
“I don’t think you’d find some of them in a medical school,” Gary remarked. “And I’m pretty sure including one of those names is an insult to the others.”
“You know what I mean.”
They found the staircase, a grand structure with curved balustrades that made the building appear less like a seat of learning and more like the interior of a palace. They paused at the top of the stairs.
“You said she’s on this floor, but I don’t see a sign with her name on it,” Dan said.
“Then we ask someone.”
They headed for a wide hallway lined with doors. A young woman in a white coat emerged from one of the rooms, and Gary made a beeline for her.
“I wonder if you can help us. We’re trying to find Dr. Phillips.”
She smiled. “End of the hallway. She’ll be in there, unless she’s giving a lecture. And if she is, she’ll be in the science building.”
They thanked her and headed for the lab. There seemed to be no movement behind the frosted glass panel. Gary knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He knocked again.
A door opened to the right. “Can I help you?” A man with short white hair and a gray-and-white mustache stood in the doorway, a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose, a blue shirt and jeans beneath his open lab coat.
He seemed tired, his face a little drawn.
Gary estimated him to be in his sixties.
“We’re looking for Dr. Samantha Phillips,” Gary told him.
“You and everyone else, including me,” he muttered. Gary gave him an inquiring glance, and he sighed. “Do you specifically need to talk to her, or will I do? Dr. Phillips and I work together. And who are you, by the way?”
Gary introduced them, and the man’s eyes widened.
“Police? Then you’d better come in.”
They followed him into a laboratory, its walls covered with shelves upon which stood a lot of books. The work surfaces were devoid of clutter, and Gary couldn’t see any scientific instruments.
The man pointed to the far end of the room. “I have a small office through there. I was about to make some tea. Would you care to join me?”
“Thank you, and you are…?”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Professor Robert Martin. I’m a professor of genetics and medicine. You’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen, but I need to sit.”
“Are you all right?” Gary caught the note of alarm in Dan’s voice.
“Not really. You see, I only returned to work last week. I had a heart attack. And then I came back to find….” He sighed.
“More of that later.” He pushed open the door to his office and waited until they were inside.
“I have a kettle. It was a present from a student from the UK who was studying here. He was horrified that I boiled water in a microwave, so he found me this.” He pointed to the stainless-steel kettle.
“Gentlemen, please, sit. I’m capable of making tea, I assure you.
But if one of you would be so kind as to fill it? There’s a faucet in the lab.”
Dan took it and went back into the larger room.
Professor Martin sank into a high-backed chair with an audible sigh of relief.
“This has been so stressful.”
“Your heart attack?”
The professor shook his head. “I got back at the end of last week to discover no one here has heard from Dr. Phillips since Wednesday the twenty-sixth. She isn’t answering her phone either.
” He pulled a phone from his pocket, tapped on it, then held it up.
“See? I’ve called her more than a dozen times. ”
Gary didn’t need to look to know the professor was worried. It laced his words.
“Should you be here?”
Professor Martin sighed. “The only reason I’m here is because I had meetings with the people developing the machine.”
Dan walked into the room with the kettle. “What machine?”
He smiled as he took it from Dan and plugged it in. “How long have you got? Because explaining what it is might take a while.”
“It’s that complicated?”
Professor Martin chuckled. “I don’t think I could describe what a genetic sequencing machine does in less than fifteen minutes, and that would be a stretch.”
“You said you work with Dr. Phillips,” Gary commented.
He nodded. “We’re developing the machine together. It’s the culmination of ten years of hard work.”
“So there isn’t any reason why she would lose contact with you?”
“Far from it.” His brow furrowed. “Something must have happened to her. I’ve called her cell, the phone at her home.
Nothing. She hasn’t responded to texts or emails.
I checked. The last person to speak with her was her assistant, and that was Wednesday.
” The kettle beeped, and he stood to pour boiling water into a tea pot.
Professor Martin retook his seat. “It needs to brew for a while.”
“Did she ever mention a journalist, Jonathon Wilmer?” Dan asked.
His frown deepened. “The name doesn’t ring a bell, but we’ve given a great many interviews. It’s possible. Why?”
“We wanted to talk to her about something she was working on with Wilmer.” Gary was reluctant to provide more information than that.
“Do you know her home address?” Dan inquired.
“Of course. And if you could visit there, I’d be most grateful. I should have thought of that sooner, but I suppose I’m not really firing on all eight right now.” He stood. “Let me find you that address.”
“Please, it can wait. Let’s have that tea.”
Gary knew Dan was being polite. Meanwhile, he was itching to visit Dr. Phillips’s home to see if she was there.
Professor Martin smiled. “I’d like that. But you must promise me to let me know if you find out anything. Worrying about Samantha, the state of my heart… I should be taking things easy.”
Gary glanced around the office. A framed wedding photo of the professor and a stunningly beautiful African American woman sat on the desk, with another photo lying face down.
The cop in Gary yearned to know what it was that the professor didn’t want to look at.
“So how long have you taught here?” Dan asked.
“About ten years. That was when Samantha and I first started working together, but it was back in 2002 that we discovered we were both looking for the same thing.”
“And what was that?”
Professor Martin stilled. “The holy grail. A way to eliminate disease, or at least make disease easier to detect.”
Dan regarded him closely. “That sounds like a noble cause.”
“And yet those who come after us? They’ll stand on our shoulders and reach even higher, achieving so much more.” Professor Martin leaned back and closed his eyes. “Forgive me. It’s been a long day, and I think I overdid things.”
Gary stood. “Have your tea, professor. We’ll leave you to your rest.”
“And if you have any news of Samantha—”
“We’ll let you know.”
Dan thanked Professor Martin, and they walked out of the office, through the lab, and into the hallway.
“I don’t like this,” Dan said in a low voice. “As far as we know, the only person Jonathon confided in is this Dr. Phillips, and suddenly she’s missing?”
Gary didn’t like it either.
He glanced at the paper Professor Martin had written on. “She lives in Dudley.”
“Then let’s get over there.”
They strode toward the parking lot.
Sherrie Thomas’s theory was starting to sound less like fanciful thinking by the minute.
Dr. Phillips lived in a townhouse with steps leading up to the door and a tiny patch of lawn out front.
Gary knocked on the white-painted door. No sound came from within.
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Dan murmured.
Gary’s clenched stomach told him Dan wasn’t alone.
“She isn’t home.” A young woman holding a baby stood on the porch of the house next door.
“When did you see her last?” Gary asked. He held his badge up for her, and her eyes widened.
“She isn’t in trouble, is she? Sam’s really sweet.”
“We wanted to talk to her about a case we’re investigating, but she hasn’t been to her lab for five days.”
The woman scrunched up her eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure it was Wednesday when I saw her go out. And now you mention it… I haven’t seen her since then.” Her face paled. “Oh God. She could’ve had an accident or something. The way she drove off, so fast. How could I not have noticed she wasn’t around?”
Dan peered in through the window. “We could really do with checking the place out. There might be a clue to her whereabouts.”
“I’ve got the spare keys,” the woman announced. “Let me just put Benjy in his stroller, and I’ll find them for you. I pick up her mail for her when she’s away.”
“Thank you—and what’s your name?”
“Val. I’ll go find those keys.” She disappeared into the house.
Dan frowned. “I don’t like the way this is adding up. I guess it could be a coincidence that she calls Hutchins, finds out Jonathon is dead, and that’s the last time anyone hears from her.”
“And what do we say about coincidences?”
Dan gave a slow nod. “We don’t like them.”
Val came out onto her porch, holding a key ring with three keys hanging from it. “You’ll need the long key and the Yale one.”
Gary took it and thanked her. From inside her house came a plaintive wail, and she sighed.
“Sorry, I’ll have to go. Benjy’s been doing this all morning.”
“We’ll bring the keys back when we’re done,” Gary assured her. He unlocked the door, and they stepped into the cool interior.
Gary scanned the room. The door opened into a living room, and off to the rear was a dining area and the kitchen. Everything appeared neat and tidy, nothing out of place.
There was no sign of Samantha Phillips.
Dan did a search of the remaining rooms while Gary searched for anything that would provide a clue to her whereabouts. He spotted a cell phone on the ornate round coffee table that sat between the couches and the armchair and went over to pick it up. On a whim, he popped the back open.
“Dan? Come here.”
Dan hurried into the room. “Have you found something?”
“She left her phone but took out the SIM card. What about you?”
“I’ve no idea if any clothes are missing, and on the surface, everything appears so… normal.”
“On the surface?” Gary stilled. “You sensed something.”
Dan nodded. “This whole place reeks.”
“Of what?”
Dan regarded him, his eyes troubled. “Fear. She was terrified of something.”