“That’s curious,” Loren said. “A friend who’s an environmental lobbyist told me a couple of interesting things. While she doesn’t know McKee personally, she does know some people who work for the company. They’d told her about one of their cleanup projects in the Middle East a while ago. They claimed some of the people deploying their product became very sick, and a few even died. It was all covered up under the guise of a flu outbreak.”
“The sample bioremediation product they provided to NUMA tested out perfectly safe,” Pitt said, “but who knows what’s been deployed in other parts of the world.”
“The EPA gave them a green light in Detroit as well,” Loren said. “The other thing my friend mentioned was the untimely death of a high-level researcher who worked for BioRem Global. Apparently, he recently died in an auto accident.”
“Sad,” Pitt said, “yet not uncommon.”
“Yes, but my friend said there were rumors it was no accident.”
“Killed? Why?”
“That’s what I asked. She thought it might have had something to do with a secret area of research they’ve delved into.”
Pitt considered the comments, swirling the wine in his glass.
Later, when their meal was finished, they cleaned up the dishes and retired to the living room.
“I guess I should get packing,” Loren said a few minutes later. “Can you pull out a suitcase for me?”
Pitt returned a moment later carrying two large suitcases.
“I only n
eed one,” Loren said.
“The other one’s for me.”
“Where are you going?”
“Scotland,” Pitt said with a crooked smile. “I think I’d like to pay a personal visit to the BioRem Global research headquarters and its inquisitive chief executive.”
28
She seems like a nice girl, if a little quiet,” Summer said as Dirk stepped back onto the boat.
“Yes, Riki’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“As if that’s all you’re interested in.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Zeibig emerged from the galley with an armload of sonar records. “If Riki had seen the end of Evel Knievel’s mad scooter ride, she’d probably have left him a lot earlier.”
Dirk shook his head. “Like I said, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The university wants their boat back tomorrow, presumably without the scattered mess,” Zeibig said. “Perhaps you can help organize our equipment while I clean up the records.”
“Only too glad to help.” Dirk fled his sister’s gaze.
By early evening they had organized the boat and packed their sonar equipment for shipment home. A refreshing breeze off the river filled the galley as Zeibig plopped onto the bench with a chilled bottle of water. Summer sat nearby with her laptop as Dirk joined them.
“I think that about does it,” Dirk said, stretching his arms. “Just need to pack our personal gear and we’re off in the morning.”
Summer looked up from her computer. “I was able to contact the Egyptian police officer we spoke with. I told him about the boat and the missing stone. He said he’d add it to the report, but there’s not much he can do without a picture.”
“Gone with Rod’s phone now,” Dirk said.
Zeibig contemplated the bottle of water in his hand. “Perhaps not.”