Benicoff was sure that this conference would not take too long. He had read through all the paperwork on the flight to Seattle, made his final notes on the monorail to Tacoma. This was the first assignment he had had in some months, in fact the very first since he began devoting full time to the Megalobe case; he could think of no real reason to turn down the request. Just before the meeting began his phone beeped and he answered it.
“Your electronic wizard seems to be working pretty fast.”
“Plausibly? Almost surely? Can’t this thing give a straight answer, a yes or no — or a fifty-fifty chance?”
“Who runs that place — you or the machine? In any case — what did it come up with?”
“I believe — and I’ll contact the FBI here and get some action on your Bug-Off today. A meeting that I planned to be brief just got a lot briefer. I’ve canceled it. I’ll get back to you.”
The head of the Seattle FBI office, Agent Antonio Perdomo, was a tall man, as solidly built as Benicoff, still in his forties but going rapidly bald. He glanced at Benicoff’s ID and got right down to business.
“Washington ran a corporate check on this manufacturing company, DigitTech Products of Austin, Texas. I have the file here. They manufacture and sell wholesale electronic components for the most part, with an occasional individual product. But they usually make items for own-brand retailers. This machine you asked about, Bug-Off, has been on the market for only a few weeks. They are marketing it themselves.”
“How do we get hold of one?”
“I’ve arranged that as well. It is not for sale but is leased to greenhouses to be used — or so their prospectus says — in the place of chemicals. I know you wanted to keep this investigation completely under cover so I made all my inquiries through an associate in the Bureau of Commerce. He contacted all the greenhouses in this area and has come up with a winner. A greenhouse owner named Nisiumi — a retired traffic policeman.”
“That’s the best news ever. You’ve contacted him?”
“He’s in his office, waiting for us. He only knows that this is a high-level investigation and that he is to mention it to no one.”
“This is very good work.”
Perdomo smiled. “Just doing my job.”
The sun had disappeared and Seattle was running true to winter form. The windshield wipers were on high speed to clear a patch in the torrential rain. They parked as close to the entrance as they could, were still drenched by the time they got to the greenhouse door.
Nisiumi, a stocky Japanese-American, led them to his office in silence, didn’t speak until he had closed the door. He wiped the soil from his fingers onto his white coat before he shook hands. He looked very closely at Agent Perdomo’s identification.
“These Bug-Off people are making a big sales pitch, probably contacted every greenhouse in the country. I even had this brochure for their machine, right here on my desk.”
“This is Mr. Benicoff, who originated this investigation,” Perdomo said. “He’s the one in charge.”
“Thanks for your cooperation,” Ben said. “This is a high-priority case right out of Washington — and there are deaths involved. That’s all I can tell you now. When we wind the thing up I promise that I’ll let you know what it is all about.”
“Suits me. It’s a big change from cucumbers. I was interested by this Bug-Off when I read about it in the trade magazine. That’s why I asked for this information. But it’s too expensive for me.”
“You have just obtained an interest-free loan for as much as you need for as long as you need.”