Blue Genes - By Val McDermid Page 0,68

dissipated so suddenly it was hard to believe how wound up we'd both been moments earlier.

"I appreciate it." I put down my bowl and chopsticks and leaned forward to kiss him deeply, running my hands up the insides of his thighs. For an unheard of second time in the same Chinese meal, Richard lost interest in food. This time, for rather longer.

Later, we lay too comfortable to move from the sofa. I reached over and pulled the throw over our sweaty bodies so we wouldn't get chilled too soon. My head in the crook between Richard's strong shoulder and his jaw, I told him about my decision to hire Don and claw back enough process serving business to keep him busy. I didn't men¬tion the Charlie's Angels ploy; the moment was too sweet for that, and besides, one lecture a day is more than enough for me.

"Will that do the trick?" Richard asked dubiously.

"No," I said. Sometimes I wish I didn't have such a strong streak of realism. There are times when it would be a blessing to be afflicted with blind optimism.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, gently stroking my back to show there was nothing aggressive in the question.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," I admitted. "Hiring Don is just a starting point. What I'm really worried about is if Bill goes, we're going to lose a lot of the computer security business. He's spent a lot of time and energy playing games with the big boys to establish his credentials in the field of computer security. Now, when it comes to making your system secure in the first place, or tracking down the creeps who are trying to steal your secrets or your money via your computer, Mortensen and Brannigan is right up there alongside some of the really big companies," I said proudly.

"And that's all tied in to Bill's name, right?" Richard chipped in, shoving me back on track.

"Give the boy a coconut," I said. "Most of the people Bill deals with don't even know who Brannigan is. They're fully paid up members of the laddish tendency. Not the sort of men who are going to be convinced that a woman knows her RAM from her ROM."

"Least of all a cute redhead with the best legs in Man¬chester," Richard said, reaching around me to check the accuracy of his comment with the hand that wasn't hold¬ing me.

"So the problem is twofold," I continued, trying to ignore the sensations his touch was triggering off. "First, I don't have the credibility. Secondly, if I'm being brutally honest..."

"Be brutal, be brutal," Richard interrupted with a mock moan.

"... I don't have the expertise either," I said firmly wriggling away from his wandering fingers.

"You could learn," he murmured, refusing to be evaded. "You're a very quick learner."

"Only when I'm motivated," I said sternly, squirming down and away. "I can't get excited enough to put in the hours it takes to develop the skills. And I haven't got the patience to devote days to finding a leak and plugging it."

"So don't. Do what you've done with Don. GSI."

"GSI?"

"Get somebody in."

"Like who?" I asked sarcastically. "People with those kind of skills don't grown on trees. If they're straight, they're already earning far more than I could afford to pay them. And if they're dark-side hackers, they don't want to do anything as straight as work for me."

"Set a thief to catch a thief, isn't that what they say? Didn't you mention that Telecom had just given Gizmo the Dear John note?"

I could have kissed him. But frankly, he didn't need the encouragement.
Chapter 17
Private eyes should have the same motto as Boy Scouts-Be Prepared. If I had to pass on one secret to any aspiring PI, that's what it would be. With that in mind, I settled down in my half of the conservatory with breakfast and the printed version of Sarah Blackstone's case notes. I needed to look more closely at the idea of her former col-leagues having a motive for murder. If I was going to grip them by the lapels of their lab coats, thrust them against the wall, and apply the red-hot pincers to treasured parts of their anatomy, I wanted to be sure I was asking the right questions.

Armed with the background information I'd picked up from the boy wonder of St. Mary's, this time I was able to make a lot more sense of what I was reading. And it was the kind of sense that