Certainly not worth five hundred dollars a day, he thought. He went inside, blinking in the light, and walked over to the booth. He sat down, nodded to Dodgson and Baselton, and raised his hand to order coffee from the waitress.
Dodgson glared at him. "I haven't got all night," he said. "Let's get started."
"Right," James said, lowering his hand. "Fine, sure." He opened the envelope, began pulling out sheets and photos, handing them across the table to Dodgson as he talked.
"Alan Grant: paleontologist at Montana State. At the moment he's on leave of absence and is now in Paris, lecturing on the latest dinosaur finds. Apparently he has some new ideas about tyrannosaurs being scavengers, and - "
"Never mind," Dodgson said. "Go on."
"Ellen Sattler Reiman," James said, pushing across a photo. "Botanist, used to be involved with Grant. Now married to a physicist at Berkeley and has a young son and daughter. She lectures half-time at the University. Spends the rest of her time at home, because - "
"Go on, go on."
"Well. Most of the rest are deceased. Donald Gennaro, lawyer...died of dysentery on a business trip. Dennis Nedry, Integrated Computer Systems...also deceased. John Hammond, who started International Genetic Technologies...died while visiting the company's research facility in Costa Rica. Hammond had his grandchildren with him at the time; the kids live with their mother back east and - "
"Anybody contact them? Anybody from InGen?"
"No, no contact. The boy's started college and the girl is in prep school. And InGen filed for Chapter 11 protection after Hammond died. It's been in the courts ever since. The hard assets are finally being sold off. During the last two weeks, as a matter of fact."
Baselton spoke for the first time. "Is Site B involved in that sale?"
James looked blank. "Site B?"
"Yes. Has anybody talked to you about Site B?"
"No, I've never heard of it before. What is it?"
"If you hear anything about Site B," Baselton said, "we want to know."
Sitting beside Baselton in the booth, Dodgson thumbed through the pictures and data sheets, then tossed them aside impatiently. He looked up at James. "What else have you got?"
"That's all, Dr. Dodgson."
"That's all?" Dodgson said. "What about Malcolm? And what about Levine? Are they still friends?"
James consulted his notes. "I'm not sure."
Baselton frowned. "Not sure?" he said. "What do you mean, you're not sure?"
"Malcolm met Levine at the Santa Fe Institute," James said. "They spent time together there, a couple of years ago. But Malcolm hasn't gone back to Santa Fe recently. He's taken a visiting lectureship at Berkeley in the biology department. He teaches mathematical models of evolution. And he seems to have lost contact with Levine."
"They have a falling out?"
"Maybe. I was told they argued about Levine's expedition."
"What expedition?" Dodgson said, leaning forward.
"Levine's been planning some kind of expedition for a year or so He's ordered special vehicles from a company called Mobile Field Systems. It's a small operation in Woodside, run by a guy named Jack Thorne. Thorne outfits Jeeps and trucks for scientists doing field research. Scientists in Africa and Sichuan and Chile all swear by them."
"Malcolm knows about this expedition?"
"He Must. He's gone to Thorne's place, occasionally. Every month or so. And of course Levine's been going there almost every day, That's how he got thrown in jail."
"Thrown in jail?" Baselton said.
"Yeah," James said, glancing at his notes. "Let's see. February tenth, Levine was arrested for driving a hundred and twenty in a fifteen zone. Right in front of Woodside Junior High. The judge impounded his Ferrari, yanked his license, and gave him community service. Basically ordered him to teach a class at the school."
Baselton smiled. "Richard Levine teaching junior high. I'd love to see that."
"He's been pretty conscientious. Of course he's spending time in Woodside, anyway, with Thorne. That is, until he left the country."
"When did he leave the country?" Dodgson said.
"Two days ago. He went to Costa Rica. Short trip, he was due back early this morning."
And where is he now?"
"I don't know. And I'm afraid, uh, it's going to be hard to find out."
"Why is that?"
James hesitated, coughed, "Because he was on the passenger manifest of the flight from Costa Rica - but he wasn't on the plane when it landed. My contact in Costa Rica says he checked out of his hotel in San Jose before the flight, and never went back. Didn't take any other flight out of the city. So, uh, for the moment, I'm afraid that Richard Levine has disappeared."
There was a long silence. Dodgson sat back in the booth, hissing between his teeth. He looked at Baselton, who shook his head. Dodgson very carefully picked up all the sheets of paper, tapped them on the table, making a neat stack. He slipped them back into the manila envelope, and handed the envelope to James.
"Now listen, you stupid son of a bitch," Dodgson said. "There's only one thing I want from you now. It's very simple. Are you listening?"
James swallowed. "I'm listening."
Dodgson leaned across the table. "Find him," he said.
Berkeley
In his cluttered Office, Malcolm looked up from his desk as his assistant, Beverly, came into the room. She was followed by a man from DHL, carrying a small box.