Yes, Nadia knew Doug. Once he sank his teeth into a problem, he wouldn’t let go until he’d solved it. She’d seen him stay up for forty-eight hours straight resolving a programming glitch.

“And obviously you learned something you’re not supposed to know.”

“Yeah. I broke into the sales master files.” He glanced around the little restaurant. “I guess I’m not such a great salesman after all. My sales figures for TriCef stink. The only consolation is that I’m not alone—the entire sales force has tanked on TriCef.”

She could feel his hurt. “But your commission checks—”

“Inflated. Just like everyone else’s.”

“But that doesn’t make sense!”

He sighed. “Tell me about it.”

“So the company’s in big trouble?”

His eyes fixed her again. “That’s just it: the company’s bottom line is fine. TriCef is a major hit overseas, doing gangbusters business. The dollar amounts are staggering.”

“So much so that they can pay you commissions on antibiotics you haven’t sold?”

“Apparently, yes. But why the discrepancies between the real and published sales figures? Why are Pharmaceutical Forum’s figures so inflated?”

“Obviously, to hide the fact that TriCef is a flop in the U.S.”

“But it’s a monster overseas. What’s the point?”

Nadia shrugged. ‘To protect the stock price?”

“I don’t see that. They’re operating in the black.”

“How about company pride?” Nadia knew Dr. Monnet was a very proud man. But would he involve himself in a deception of this magnitude? Surely he valued his personal reputation more than the company’s.

“You might have something there,” Doug said after a swallow of beer. He picked up a blue corn chip and dipped it in the salsa. “GEM started as a generic company. TriCef is their first time out competing against the big boys and they want to look like winners.”

“I’m sure that’s it.”

“Well, I’m not that sure. I’ve still got a few questions that need answering.” He grinned. “Let’s go to my place when we’re done. I’ll make you into a hacker.”

Nadia forced a smile. “OK.”

She knew Doug would gnaw this bone till he was satisfied no morsel remained to be gleaned from it, and she had an uneasy feeling she should stick as close as possible to him on this.

14

The front section of Ozymandias Prather’s trailer served as the business office for the Oddity Emporium. Luc Monnet sat inside and glanced at his watch. Almost time.

He’d been enormously relieved to learn that the creature was still alive.

He looked around the tiny office: a rickety desk, two chairs, and no room for much else. The rear section, Prather’s living quarters, Luc presumed, was curtained off. Curiosity about the lifestyle of this strange man with an even stranger business nudged him to take a peek, but he resisted. He was not a snoop.

Nothing wrong with perusing the walls of the business office, though. It was papered with old posters and flyers, one particularly old one mentioning a Jacob Prather and his “Infernal Machine.” Prather’s father, perhaps? Behind the desk was a map of the U.S. with a planned route that circled the country.