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Chapter 6: The Chance Janet Takes
New York
The email had been sitting in Janet's inbox for ten days. She opened it.
Dear Ms. van Dyne, I apologize for the somewhat sensational subject line of my email, but I feared it being discarded since you won't recognize my name. I hope you are as well as can be hoped in view of your recent loss, regarding which please accept my sincerest condolences. I should very much like to discuss the above subject with you, but think it best not to say more electronically. Can we meet to discuss in person? I travel frequently to the United States and would be pleased to meet you at any time and place convenient for you.
I will remain hopeful for your reply.
Sir Edward Percy
Functional Genetics Unit
Department of Physiology, Anatomy and Genetics
University of Oxford
Janet sat back. Is this for real?
She clicked on the link to the Oxford website contained in the email. Sure enough, Edward Percy – Sir Edward Percy – was listed among the faculty. And what a resume! Repeated publications in genetics journals, guest lectures at academic institutions on five continents, research interests in a half-dozen sub-specialties. From her background in academia, Janet could tell immediately this guy was a rock star.
She also knew it would be risky to reply. Stark had warned her that her usual email accounts might be monitored. But she desperately wanted to find out anything she could about who might have killed her father, and this guy was the first possibility for help since she'd walked out the front door of her house to go meet Pym.
She got an idea. She quickly created a new email account, then hammered out as earnest but vague a response as possible, and hit send. She intended then to return to her email backlog. But to her surprise, a reply from Percy came back within seconds. It read: "Thank you for your reply! By coincidence I am in New York. Can we meet?"
That was fast. Janet decided to remain interested but evasive. Besides, she wasn't sure Stark would want her wandering off from headquarters. To say nothing of being noticed by the police.
To say nothing of running off to meet a man she'd only just met via email.
She typed back: "Unfortunately, I'm not in a situation conducive to meeting right now."
After a short delay, another reply arrived. "I am sorry to hear it, as I must leave for England tomorrow. I trust you are taking appropriate security precautions, considering the unfortunate 'interest' shown in your father's work. Take care, and I hope we may have the opportunity to meet on my next visit to the States."
Janet gasped. This guy knew more than she realized. She couldn't afford to let him get away. She quickly typed back: "Tell you what, please call me at this number . . . ." Within seconds, her Stark-issued cell phone rang. She took a deep breath and answered.
"Ms. van Dyne?" The voice was smooth, deeply masculine but imminently professional. And with an impeccable British accent.
"Yes?"
"This is Edward Percy. Thank you so much for taking my call."
Janet stammered. "N—no, thank you for contacting me." Sheesh. Janet realized she hadn't been on a phone call of a professional nature in weeks. She was rusty.
"I apologize for what I'm sure must seem like a most aggressive inquiry. But your father and I worked together once, and . . . ." His sentence trailed off. Janet interpreted this as sentiment.
"I understand," Janet replied. "How did you know him?"
"Ms. van Dyne, I don't wish to sound paranoid, but I really don't trust electronic communications. Is there any way we could meet in person? I've hired a car which I would be happy to send 'round for you. We could meet any place you like."
Janet hesitated. She didn't dare tell this stranger about her real situation. "Well . . . I'm not exactly at liberty to meet right now."
"Janet." The voice became suddenly very earnest. "I think I know what you mean. If your father's death was in any way related to his research, you may be a bit . . . compromised in your freedom to move about. I don't know if it makes any difference, but I can assure you complete confidentiality, security and privacy if we meet. No one would know."
Janet felt a lump in her throat so big that when she swallowed, she felt sure Percy must have heard it through the phone. She'd never felt so unsure of anything in her life. How could this man surmise so much about her situation just from having worked with her father once? And how could her father have worked with a leading academic at Oxford and never mentioned it? All her senses were tingling with the fear that she might be getting into something way bigger than she wanted. But her desire to find out any clues about her father's killer overrode all else.
At last she answered him. "Tell you what. Send the car to the front gate of Stark Industries' headquarters in Queens. There's a little coffee shop in College Point, right on the Boulevard. I'll meet you there. Deal?"
"Janet I can't thank you enough! I'll have the car there in exactly one hour."
She hung up. Then she realized she confronted another decision: what do I tell the boys? She thought about this a while, then got up and walked back into the lab – to a development that surprised her. Stark and Pym were in an argument.
" . . . but she was the only reason I joined this team," Pym was shouting, "and I made it a condition of my participation! I know you remember that!"
"Yeah, just like I remember paying five hundred million dollars to clean up a little mess you made in The Bronx."
"What's that got to do with it?"
Stark was strutting around, gesturing as he talked. "Because it's my money you're living on, pal. My company your hiding out in. I think that gives me a little bit more say in this than you or Janet."
Janet walked in. "Say in what?"
Stark and Pym both turned and looked at her. Stark was at his cockiest.
"Don't trouble your pretty little head about it, sweetheart. You just go back and play in the office I provided you, and I'll let you know what we decide."
Janet was dumbfounded. "What? What are you talking about?"
Pym made a gesture in the air of pushing her away. "Janet, not now, okay?"
Now Janet was truly thunderstruck. What happened to the compassionate Pym that had left her office a few hours ago?
"You know what? Fine!" She turned and stalked off. "Don't wait up for me!" But she doubted they heard that last part. As soon as she turned her back, they started arguing again.
Even through her fury at this fresh round of condescension thrown at her, she wondered what they were arguing about. But she wasn't going to worry her "pretty little head" about it. They were jerks – Stark especially. They didn't have the right to know where she was going, or what she was doing. And they had helped clarify one thing in her mind: she had to get out of this place.
She went back to her room in the living quarters and got ready – including taking off the stupid skin suit Stark had put her in - then started out for the considerable walk to the campus front gate. When she got there, the guards of course let her through. They had no idea she wasn't supposed to be leaving –they'd never have seen her before, and anyway, their job was to keep people out, not in. She walked out to the small turnaround in the street outside the gate, and waited.
She didn't have to wait long. The car arrived exactly one hour from the moment she hung up the phone with Percy, just like he said. It pulled up to the curb, and a dapper young driver popped out. "Ms. van Dyne?"
Janet thought she vaguely nodded at the man. But she couldn't be sure. She was too transfixed by the car. The driver trotted around and opened the door for her, and she slid into the most luxurious leather seat she'd ever seen. "This is his rental car?"
The driver grinned. "Only the best." He shut the door and started around to the driver's side.
Alone for a second, Janet mumbled to herself: "I'm not sure I've ever ridden in a Rolls Royce before."