Death Warmed Over - By Kevin J. Anderson Page 0,58
on top of a toaster. Since 1970s easy-listening pop did not require special amplification, I wondered what the gadget did. I fiddled with the controls, mainly because I thought that would annoy Jekyll.
It did. “Don’t touch that!”
“Why not?” I turned another knob. “What is this thing?”
“A prototype.” He scuttled over and snatched the device from me and set it on a shelf behind his desk. “A portable ectoplasmic defibrillator, designed to scramble—and hopefully erase—any trespassing ghosts. Ghosts make the most insidious industrial spies, slipping in where they’re not wanted, snooping around.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t be too careful. The prototype is still in the testing phase—I’m having trouble finding ghosts who will volunteer for the trials.”
I was glad Sheyenne hadn’t come along with us.
Since Robin didn’t have a plan for this meeting, I threw a curveball in hopes that it would rattle Jekyll. I liked to see where the red herrings would swim. “For one of my investigations, I’ve been monitoring the activities of Brondon Morris. He may be involved in some unsavory activities, possibly even a conspiracy to overthrow JLPN. Thought you’d want to know.”
Jekyll blinked, then chuckled. “Brondon would never do that! He’s a very important person in this company, one of our most talented chemists, and by far the best regional sales manager.”
I watched his expression carefully. “Are you familiar with a defunct company called Chaney and Son? Mr. Morris has been meeting with a secret group inside their boarded-up warehouse.” I was just testing him, stringing him along.
“I know nothing about that,” he said, but the alarmed look on his face said otherwise. “I’ll speak to Brondon about it. If he’s sneaking around with unsavory types, I wouldn’t want his public actions to adversely affect our company image. This is a crucial time for JLPN with the release of our whole new line of products. We can’t afford any bad press.”
I reminded myself that Miranda was our client. Even if Jekyll and his lapdog were doing something illicit, such activities didn’t necessarily affect the divorce settlement. The two men could have been participating in an illegal cockatrice fighting ring, or smuggling body parts to mad scientist laboratories. What mattered to me was finding a way to break the rigid prenuptial agreement.
Sure enough, after the Carpenters finished mellowing their way through a glycemic coma, Barry Manilow started in with “I Write the Songs.”
“We’d better go, Dan,” Robin said. Clearly, we weren’t going to get any more information from Harvey Jekyll, but I think it was the music that made her anxious to leave.
“Say hello to my wife for me,” Jekyll said. “You probably see her more than I do.”
CHAPTER 26
Late the next morning, a pleading arrived by courier from Howard Phillips Publishing—a service copy sent to us with the original filed in court. Not unexpectedly, the publisher’s legal department refuted Robin’s demand for reparations and declined to remove the defective spell book from bookstore shelves.
As Robin read the letter, I watched her expression fall. Her lips pressed together, and then she got that determined look of hers. When I saw her like that, I always thought she could walk into an oncoming tidal wave and the waters would part just to stay out of her way. She handed me the letter so I could read it for myself.
“We at Howard Phillips Publishing categorically deny any culpability in the strange and unfortunate accident that befell Ms. Alma Wannovich. We contend that the plaintiffs, Alma Wannovich and Mavis Wannovich, failed to use our spell book in accordance with the clearly stated guidelines on the copyright page. We assert that all spells published by Howard Phillips are completely harmless. Although Ms. Wannovich’s situation is unquestionably tragic, our good company bears no blame for the aforementioned misfortune. Any public allegation that attempts to cast Howard Phillips Publishing in an unfavorable light will be met with vigorous legal action. We are committed to defending our good name with all the means and financial resources at our disposal.”
I handed the letter back to Robin. “Not good news.”
“It’s just the next step in the dance.” Her fingers tightened on the stationery, wrinkling the paper. “The more strenuously a defendant denies the charges, the more culpable they tend to be.”
“Should I deliver a copy of the letter to Mavis and Alma?” After the tense situation the sisters had experienced on the streets, I didn’t think it was wise to call them away from the safety of their home unless it was absolutely necessary.