Gina quickly had the mess cleaned up, and repeatedly reassured her daughter that she shouldn’t cry because Gina didn’t care about any old cup that she’d bought as a souvenir in Venice on her only trip to that beautiful city that she loved more than any place in the world.

Cathryn got control of herself. She knew that the Venetian cup was one of her mother’s treasures and she felt badly about breaking it, but Gina’s overreaction helped calm down her emotions.

“I think I’ll drive up to Shaftesbury,” said Cathryn at length. “I’ll get some more clothes for Chuck and check on Jean Paul.”

“Chuck’s got what he needs,” said Gina. “The money it costs to drive up there, you could buy him a new outfit in Filene’s basement.”

“True,” admitted Cathryn. “I guess I want to be around the phone if Charles calls.”

“If he calls and gets no answer, he’ll call here,” said Gina. “After all, he’s not stupid. Where do you think he’s gone with Michelle?”

“I don’t know,” said Cathryn. “Last night the police talked about Mexico. Apparently a lot of people looking for unusual cancer cures go to Mexico. But Charles wouldn’t go there. I know that much.”

“I hate to say I told you so,” said Gina, “but I warned you about marrying an older man with three children. It’s always trouble. Always!”

Cathryn held back the anger that only her mother was capable of causing. Then the phone rang.

Gina answered it while Cathryn held her breath.

“It’s for you,” said Gina. “A detective named Patrick O’Sullivan.”

Expecting the worst, Cathryn picked up the phone. Patrick O’Sullivan quickly reassured her, saying that they had no new information about Charles or Michelle. He said that there had been an interesting development in the case and asked if Cathryn would meet him at the Weinburger Research Institute. She agreed immediately.

Fifteen minutes later she was ready to leave. She told Gina that after stopping at the Weinburger she was going to drive back to New Hampshire. Gina tried to protest but Cathryn was insistent, saying that she had to have some time alone. She told her mother that she’d be back in time for dinner with Chuck.

The ride across Boston and down Memorial Drive was uneventful. Pulling the old Dodge into the Weinburger parking lot made her remember that summer two years before when she’d met Charles for the first time. Could it really have been only two years ago?

There were two police cars pulled up close to the entrance and when Cathryn walked by them she could hear the familiar crackle of their radios. Seeing police cars wasn’t an auspicious sign, but Cathryn refused to allow herself to speculate. The front door of the institute slid open for her, and she made her way down to Charles’s lab.

The door was ajar and Cathryn walked in. The first thing she noticed was that the lab had already been dismantled. She’d been in it on several occasions in the past, so she’d had an idea of what to expect. Now all the science-fiction-like machines were gone. The counter tops were bare like a store that had gone bankrupt.

There were six people in the room. Ellen, whom Cathryn recognized, was talking to two uniformed policemen who were engaged in filling out the police report. Seeing the policemen painstakingly printing brought back a memory of the previous night. Dr. Ibanez and Dr. Morrison were standing near Charles’s desk talking with a freckle-faced man in a blue polyester sports coat. The man saw Cathryn enter and immediately approached her.

“Mrs. Martel?” questioned the man.

Cathryn nodded and took the man’s outstretched hand. It was soft and slightly moist.

“I’m Detective Patrick O’Sullivan. I’ve been assigned to your case. Thanks for coming.”

Over Patrick’s shoulder Cathryn could see Ellen point to an empty space on the counter before she started talking again. Cathryn couldn’t quite make out what she was saying but she could tell it was something about equipment. Glancing over at the doctors she could see they were engaged in heated discussion. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she saw Dr. Morrison strike his open palm in apparent anger.

“What’s going on?” asked Cathryn, looking up into the detective’s soft green eyes.

“It seems that your husband, after having been dismissed from his position here at the institute, stole most of his equipment.”

Cathryn’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I don’t believe that.”

“The evidence is pretty irrefutable. The two evening security men apparently helped Charles strip the lab and load the stuff.”

“But why?” asked Cathryn.

“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me,” said the detective.

Cathryn glanced around the room, trying to comprehend the extent of Charles’s folly.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Cathryn. “It seems absurd.”

The detective lifted his eyebrows and wrinkled his forehead as he followed Cathryn’s eyes around the lab. “It’s absurd all right. It’s also grand larceny, Mrs. Martel.”

Cathryn looked back at the detective.

The detective glanced down and shuffled his feet. “This puts a different light on your husband’s disappearance. Child-snatching by a parent is one thing, and to tell you the honest truth, we don’t get too excited about it. But theft is something else. We’re going to have to put out the details and a warrant for Dr. Martel’s arrest on the NCIC teletype.”

Cathryn shuddered. Every time she thought she understood the details of the nightmare it got worse. Charles was now a fugitive. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Our condolences, Mrs. Martel,” said Dr. Ibanez, coming up behind her.

She turned and saw the director’s sympathetic expression.

“It’s a tragedy,” agreed Dr. Morrison with the same expression. “And to think Charles was once such a promising researcher.”

There was an uncomfortable pause. Morrison’s comment angered Cathryn, but she was at a loss for words.

“Exactly why was Dr. Martel fired?” asked Patrick O’Sullivan, breaking the silence.

Cathryn turned to the detective. He had asked the question she would have liked to pose if she’d had the courage.

“Basically, it was because Dr. Martel had been acting a bit bizarrely. We began to question his mental stability.” Dr. Ibanez paused. “He also was not what you would call a team player. In fact, he was a loner and lately he’d become uncooperative.”

“What kind of research was he doing?” asked the detective.

“It’s hard to describe to a layman,” said Morrison. “Basically Charles was working on the immunological approach to cancer. Unfortunately this approach is somewhat dated. Ten years ago it held great promise but initial hopes were not borne out by subsequent developments. Charles couldn’t or wouldn’t make the adaptation. And, as you know, the advancement of science does not wait for anyone.” Morrison smiled as he finished his statement.

“Why do you think Dr. Martel took all this equipment?” asked O’Sullivan, making a sweeping gesture around the room.

Dr. Ibanez shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“I think it was spite,” said Dr. Morrison. “It’s like the kid who takes home his ball when the others don’t want to play by his rules.”

“Could Dr. Martel have taken the equipment to continue his research?” said O’Sullivan.

“No,” said Dr. Morrison. “Impossible! The key to this kind of research is the highly bred animal systems we use. These animals are absolutely essential to the research, and Charles did not take any of his mice. And as a fugitive, I think he’d find it difficult to get them.”

“I suppose you could give me a list of suppliers,” said the detective.

“Absolutely,” answered Dr. Morrison.

In the background the phone rang. Cathryn had no idea why she jumped but she did. Ellen answered it and called out for Detective O’Sullivan.

“This must be a very difficult time for you,” said Dr. Ibanez to Cathryn.