Authors: Janis Harrison

Bindweed (22 page)

BOOK: Bindweed

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“A diverse range of things. Because of its strength and elasticity, it's a good candidate for both the medical and industrial fields. I'm talking ropes, nets, seat belts, parachute cords, even the cables that stop planes as they land on aircraft carriers, bulletproof vests, biodegradable bottles, bandages, surgical thread, artificial tendons or ligaments. The list is endless.”

I nodded. “Tapping into either of those fields would make the money endless, as well.”

“That's correct. Within the research community, there's a race to bio-mimic Mother Nature's creationâthe spider's web. Billions of dollars are up for grabs.”

Abigail said, “So why don't you just gather up a bunch of spiders and let them do their thing, like the silkworms do theirs?”

“I wish it were that simple. It takes four hundred spiders to make one square yard of cloth. However, spiders are territorial, as well as cannibalistic. In close quarters, they'll eat each other.”

“But what about your spiders upstairs?”

“There are four, not four hundred, and I keep my ladies' appetites
well sated. They have no need to go hunting for more nourishment.”

I rubbed my head where Phillip had hit me. “I'm not sure I understand. Where does Toby's hibiscus fit into all of this?”

Phillip sighed. “For you to understand fully, I need to go back to the artificial spider silk. Orb-weaving spiders generally produce seven different types of silk. The strongest is the dragline silk. It's what the spider spins to construct the outermost circle of a web and all the radiating spokes. Decades have been spent on decoding the protein gene that makes up dragline silk. Once the sequence was cracked, the race was on to mass-produce it. The gene has been introduced into the cells of hamsters and mice. The results yielded a goodly amount of protein, which was placed in a syringe. Once the protein was squeezed though the syringe, we got a silk fiber that was thinner than a human hair, but it didn't have the strength of spider silk.

“While we were working with the hamsters and mice, another division of our company discovered that the silk gland of the spider and the milk gland of a goat are almost identical. By inserting the orb-weaver's gene into the mammary glands of the goat, we were able to produce a complex protein that contained the spider silk. The next step was to spin the protein into a fiber, but more funding was needed. Our CEO took the news of our discovery to a substantial medical corporation. The result was a grant to our company to pursue the goat/milk research. But no matter what we did or how we approached the problem, spinning that protein into a viable fiber eluded us.”

Phillip stopped to stare at us. “When you were upstairs, I heard you reading a letter from my coworker, a molecular biology professor. He tries to keep me updated on the most recent
research breakthroughs because he feels as I do that my position with Bio-Rite was wrongfully terminated.”

Abigail asked, “What did you do?”

“As I said, the grant money was designated for learning more about the goat/milk protein. I used a portion of the money to pursue a line of research into plants as carriers of the spider-silk gene.”

“Plants like Toby's hibiscus,” I said.

Phillip nodded. “It seems so obvious and feasible to me. Natural fibers are used for the spinning and weaving of fabric. I firmly believe that once the silk gene is spliced into the cell of a high-fiber plant, that gene will evolve. Given time, it'll take over the host plant, and the molecular wall structure of that plant will undergo a metamorphosis. But new plants have to be started from the older one, either by tissue culture or by mature seeds that have been collected from last year's plants.”

I said, “That's why Toby was taught by his mother to plant six new rows each year.”

“Correct. With each passing year, the silk gene has become more dominant.” Phillip lifted a shoulder. “I'm getting closer. I admit I was wrong to switch around funding to aid my own concept, but time was being lost while I tried to convince a board of directors to listen to my theory. Before I was fired, I managed to make copies of my notes and smuggle them out of my lab. My friend thinks I've given up my research. Any information he passes on to me is a courtesy. He thinks it will make me feel better about events if he can substantiate the fact that I was on the right track years ago.”

I grimaced. “How did you put it? âSave a life or better mankind.' You killed Toby. You killed Leona. How do you explain or justify their deaths?”

Phillip's eyes narrowed. “I will explain, but not justify. I did kill them. I have no excuse. They were in my way.”

Abigail sucked in a breath. A shiver swept over me. Phillip was so cool, so detached. It took me a moment to find my voice. “But why?” I asked. “How were they in your way? What did they know?”

“On the night before Toby died, I worked for twelve hours straight testing the hibiscus. I never had to worry about Yvonne coming out to check on me. The pain in her knees keeps her pretty close to the house or her antiques store. When she does make a trip to the barn, it's for an extended period of time. She always says she has to make the journey worthwhile. If she needs me, all she has to do is poke a button and a bell rings out here or in my workshop in the barn.”

He waved a hand. “Anyway, as I was saying, I'd worked for twelve hours straight and I was exhausted. I needed a quick shower and a cup of coffee, so I left the doors unlocked. In the space of twenty minutes, while I was gone to the house, Toby wandered in. He found the silo door unlocked and climbed the stairs. When I found him, he was standing in front of the caged animals. He was upset. He didn't like the bowls of maggots on the third floor, but he most assuredly didn't like to see the mice and hamsters behind the wire mesh.”

I said, “So Toby didn't touch any wet varnish? That was just a cover story?”

“The wet varnish was a lie. But my losing control and yelling at Toby was all too true. With years of research at risk, I lost my temper. I screamed at him. I threatened to dispose of the animals if he didn't keep quiet. He was shocked by my threat, but he was terrified by my screaming.”

Phillip shook his head. “In all the years I've known him, I've
never raised my voice to him in any situation. I knew better than to holler at Toby. He was sensitive. I calmed down and tried talking to him, reasoning with him, but nothing I said made an impression. I backpedaled and searched my brain for something that would grab his attention. Something he could relate to. Something his mother might have told him. Agnes was a great one for proverbs, little platitudes that sized up life in a few words. I seized on the three monkeys: See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil. That seemed to work. I told him the animals would still be here, but he had to keep them a secret from everyone he knew. He quieted down, but after he left I couldn't be sure he would keep the contents of the silo to himself. I'd done all this remodeling when Yvonne was in the hospital having her knee-replacement surgery. No one had seen the inside of this silo until Toby found the door unlocked.”

“But you cut down his mother's hibiscus? Surely you knew he'd be upset, that he'd tell someone.”

“Yes, but they are simply perceived as flowers. Who would pay any attention? It could have been vandals. I figured the topic of the missing stalks would be discussed for a few days, then the subject would be dismissed.”

“And Leona?” I asked. “Why kill her?”

“Yvonne kept saying that Leona was trying to piece together Agnes's financial background. My sister had known that Agnes received money when her husband was killed in a railway accident. She speculated that the money was gone years ago, which it was. Agnes had only her paycheck from the pharmacy to live on when I met her.”

Phillip shrugged. “There's never been time in my life for a relationship. My work has been my life. I came back to River City to lick my wounds and mend my pride after being fired from a job where I knew I could make a difference. I had a feasible
concept, but I had to find a suitable host plant. When I read about kenaf, I decided to do some extensive tests.

“I met Agnes though my sister. Agnes was a quiet woman who analyzed every step she took. Most of the time her major concern was for Toby, but as we got to know each other, I realized that she possessed the same qualities that have carried me through years of research. We both contemplated every situation, predicting how events would develop. Neither of us was afraid to manipulate anything or anyone to achieve our goal.”

I asked, “So you and Agnes fell in love?”

“I cared for Agnes. I think she might have loved me, or maybe she only saw me as a way to keep her son safe.”

My hoot of derision made Phillip wince. He said, “My action in placing the hornet's nest in Toby's room was at odds with all I've done for him since Agnes died. My research is based on records I stole from my old company. They could claim ownership. I've always felt there was a chance that someone from Bio-Rite might look me up. Repairing and refinishing furniture was far removed from the studies I'd conducted, but there was always a concern on my part that my ongoing work would be discovered. I had to find a place away from this farm where the hibiscus could grow. That meant that I had to bring someone into my confidence.

“I chose Agnes. She was dying. She needed money. Her only relative was a son with less than average mental comprehension. Her home was within easy reach. I could take a rambling route over connecting pastures and be at the back of her property in less than ten minutes.”

Abigail said, “We figured that out. You rode Sugar Cube over to the garden, tied him to a tree, and went through the hedge to chop down the hibiscus.”

“That's right.”

I said, “Did you give Agnes a lump sum of money? Is that why Leona was suspicious?”

“No. I supplied the money for Agnes to buy stock in my old company. Regardless of how I was treated at the end of my employment, there are brilliant scientists working there. Agnes received a nice dividend check each month. That stock was moved into Toby's name at Agnes's death. I convinced her she had to hold on to that stock. Once I'd perfected my theory and had substantial proof to present to the board of directors, I was sure the stock would skyrocket.”

“But what does this have to do with Leona's horrible death?”

“Once Toby's will was read, and the name of the stock disclosed, Leona would know immediately that I was guilty. She knew I'd left a company in Canada.”

I nodded. “That's right. She told me you'd been fired.”

Phillip's lips turned down in a frown. “You mean she'd already told you before she died?”

“That's right. You were too late. No need to give her that bubble bath concoction.” Slyly, I interjected, “Nor was it necessary to leave the basket of toiletries outside my flower shop's back door.”

Phillip lifted one shoulder. “I needed some extra insurance against your prying.”

Abigail said, “Wouldn't Yvonne recognize the name of the company where you used to work?”

“Yes, but she would never betray me.”

My mind was in a whirl from the information Phillip had given us. There had to be more questions that needed answers. Given our predicament, I asked the only one that had immediate relevancy. “What are you going to do with Abigail and me?”

Instead of answering, Phillip pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “I have here the name and phone number of
the CEO of Bio-Rite. I'd like you to contact him. Tell him everything. Describe what you've seen upstairs. Convince him that it would be in his best interests to get here as quickly as possible.”

Phillip put the paper on the step next to him. He stood up. “You'll have to do some fast talking, but I'm positive that you can do theâ”

Heavy pounding sounded on the door. “Bretta!” shouted Sid. “Are you in there?”

Abigail and I sprang to our feet. We rushed to the door. “Help us,” yelled Abigail. “The door is locked, and Phillip has the only key.”

I whipped around to the stairs. I was afraid Phillip might be at our heels, ready to throttle us, but the staircase was empty. The door to the second floor was open. A prickle of uneasiness crossed my skin. Why had Phillip gone upstairs? There was no escape that way.

Or was there?

A feeling of dread washed over me.

In the alleyway outside the silo, I heard Sid say, “Get a crowbar or a hammer.” In a louder voice, he said, “Keep calm. We'll get you out as fast as we can.”

Abigail looked around at me. “Where's Phillip?” she asked.

I hesitated, then finally pointed up.

She breathed deeply. “We're safe for the moment.” Her eyes widened. “Unless he's gone to get something to use as a weapon.”

There was only one reason Phillip would ask me to contact his former employer. Slowly I shook my head. “We're the last thing on Phillip's mind.”

BOOK: Bindweed

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