Finn paced. “Some of the crew claimed they were poisoned and that explains their irrational behavior. Were you poisoned?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Is that a definite no?”
“I felt fine. I got mad at Press when he started acting weird, fought him off when he tried to sink the sub . . . but that’s all.”
“You hit him?”
“He was landing the blows.” I pointed to the bandage on my temple. “I brought the DSV back to the surface after he conked out. I was scared out of my wits, but I felt fine. Really.”
Finn kept staring. He rotated his hand, go on.
“Anyway, Press was unconscious or in a funk. I thought he could be dead, but he seemed to recover once we surfaced. Then he—”
“What did he say to you, Dr. Cousins?”
I thought back. “He asked if Owen Montoya had ever phoned me. He seemed to think it was significant.”
“Did Montoya talk to him, maybe tell him something before the ship left port?”
“I doubt it. What difference would it make?”
Finn smiled and tilted his head. “Montoya’s assistant said you exchanged angry words with Dr. Mauritz. You deny that?”
“Yes.”
“Nobody else saw you talk with Mauritz until the second day of the voyage. Was that conversation friendly?”
“We said hello.”
“What do you know about a man named AY3000?” Finn lifted a page on his small stack. “That apparently is his legal name.”
“He changed it from Jack Scholl,” I said. “He comes to conferences on nanotechnology and longevity research.”
“Why did he change his name?”
“A stunt. Philosophy, I guess. AY stands for Apollo Year 3000, dating from the first moon landing, approximating his hoped-for life span.”
“I see,” Finn said.
AY suffered from prostate cancer and had not looked good the last time I saw him. Still, he kept his hopes high.
“Nanotechnology . . . that’s the little bitty stuff, electronics and such, isn’t it?” Finn asked.
“Yes.”
“Sci-fi bull,” Keeper said with a superior smile.
“Was AY3000 an investor in your research?”
“AY has a little money. He was a small investor, until last year. I guess I wasn’t moving fast enough. He found someone more convincing.” I looked at Finn through a short silence, then added, “He’s a gentle, intelligent old man.”
“Mr. Montoya is also an investor?”
“He was.”
“This AY3000 made threatening phone calls to a number of colleagues, including Dr. Mauritz, starting early last week. But he never left San Francisco. Is he still one of your professional contacts?”
“I haven’t spoken to him in months. Are there other crimes I don’t know about?” I asked.
“The little light finally switches on,” Keeper said from his corner.
“Quite a few,” Finn said. “And no connection but the victims’ interests. Biology. Genetics. Oceanography. Two in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, on June 7. Dr. Mauritz’s wife, June 8. One in Palo Alto, June 17. You used to live in Palo Alto, didn’t you?”
“I left ten months ago.”
“Divorced?” Keeper asked.
“Yeah.”
“From the former Julia Merrivale,” Keeper said.
“Yeah.”
“She took you to the cleaners,” Keeper said.
“She got the house.”
