Read Online Counterfeit World by Daniel F. Galouye - Free Book Online

to be a normal girl, her present extreme desolation was far out of character.
    And as she led me into the study a moment later, I wondered abruptly whether she was merely letting me believe her bereavement had been responsible for the tearful outburst. Was she concealing a far more profound cause of distress?
    She gestured toward Fuller’s desk. “Help yourself while I go resurface my face.”
    Pensively, I watched her weave from the room, tall and graceful and lovely even despite inflamed eyes.
    She stayed away long enough for me to go through Fuller’s scant professional effects. But only two things caught my attention. First, in the surprisingly few notes that had been spread out across the desk and stored in two of its drawers, some of the memoranda were missing. How did I know? Well, Fuller had told me on several occasions that he was working at home on the consequences of simulectronics in terms of human understanding. There was not a word to be found on that subject.
    Second, one drawer of the desk—the one in which he had kept his important notations—had been forced open.
    As for the notes themselves, there was nothing to attract my interest. Not that I had really expected to find anything.
    Jinx returned and sat tensely, unsmiling, on the edge of the couch, slender hands cupped around her knees. Her face had recaptured its freshness. But there seemed to be a certain guarded determination in the firm, smooth lines of her mouth.
    “Is everything just like Dr. Fuller left it?” I asked.
    “Nothing’s been touched.”
    “There are some notes missing,” I said, watching carefully for her reactions.
    Her eyes widened. “How do you know?”
    “He told me about something he was working on. I can’t find any mention of it.”
    She glanced away—uneasily?—then back at me. “Oh, he disposed of a lot of papers, just last week.”
    “Where?”
    “He incinerated them.”
    I indicated the forced drawer. “And what about this?”
    “I—” Then she smiled and came over to the desk. “Is this a sort of inquisition?”
    Relaxing, I said, “I’m just trying to pick up the pieces of some research odds and ends.”
    “It can’t be that important, can it?” But before I could answer, she suggested impulsively, “Let’s go for a drive, Doug.”
    I took her back to the couch and we sat side by side. “Just a few more questions. That broken lock?”
    “Dad lost his key. That was about three weeks ago. He pried the drawer open with a knife.”
    That, I knew, was a lie. A year earlier I had helped Fuller install a biocapacitance trigger on the lock so he could open the drawer without his key, which he had often misplaced.
    She rose. “If we’re going to take that drive, I’ll get a wrap.”
    “About that sketch your father drew—”
    “Sketch?”
    “The drawing of Achilles and the tortoise, in red ink—at his office. You didn’t take it, did you?”
    “I didn’t even see it.”
    Not only had she noticed the sketch, but I had stood behind her watching her study it for some time.
    I decided to toss a shocker at her, just to see what sort of effect it might have. “Jinx, what I’m trying to find out is whether your father really died accidentally.”
    Her mouth fell open and she stepped back. “Oh, Doug, you’re not serious! You mean somebody might have—killed him?”
    “I think so. I also thought there might be something in his notes indicating who and why.”
    “But nobody would have wanted to do anything like that!” She was silent a moment. “And if you’re right, you could be in danger yourself! Oh, Doug, you’ve got to forget about it!”
    “Don’t you want to see the guilty person exposed?”
    “I don’t know.” She hesitated. “I’m frightened. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
    I noticed with interest that she hadn’t suggested going to the police. “Why do you think anything’s going to happen to me?”
    “I—oh, Doug, I’m confused and afraid.”
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