The Hydrogen Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

from the challenging puzzle before me. I'd long ago
accepted the occupational hazard of a lifelong career in science—trying
to measure everything. Even excitement.
    I opened the envelope of photographs, keeping it low on my
lap so as not to offend the sensibilities of those dining at tables around me.
Most of the other patrons at Russo's were in business suits and career dresses
and I envisioned them as tax accountants and retail clerks and at other
non-bloody occupations.
    I noted with relief that these crime scene photographs were
a little easier to take than the ones I'd had to look at for my first case,
which were of a gruesome murder in a chemistry lab. Eric Bensen had been the
victim of a relatively clean murder. I found it easier to take the pools of
blood around his torso, as long as all of his body parts were intact. I saw
that Eric had fallen on his side, and looked almost comfortable spread out on
his lab floor. The fabric of his khaki pants that was visible looked clean, and
his left arm was tucked under his upper body as if he were taking a quick nap
on a small red carpet.
    I took a deep breath and a long drink of lemony water to
counteract the queasiness that had come to my stomach in spite of the tidiness
of the crime scene, and moved on to read the pages of text.
    I was ready with some questions when Matt returned.
    "There's nothing in this report about disks or printout
around Eric's desk," I said. "His computer screen is blank and the
area around him looks bare in these photographs. Would the officers have listed
papers and disks if they were there?"
    "Absolutely," Matt said. "Maybe he was doing
something else that didn't require the computer?"
    I thought about this as our waiter brought my dry cappuccino
and eggplant and pepper sandwiches for both of us.
    I pulled out the photograph with the best shot of Eric's
workplace. His computer monitor and keyboard were surrounded by yellow sticky
notes and dozens of small figures, a few of which I could
identify—Batman, Spiderman, Wonderwoman, Superman. Among the other action
heroes in different sizes was a small white plaster bust of Albert Einstein,
similar to ones I'd seen in science museum gift shops. I could also make out a
soft drink can, a framed photograph of his wife Janice, and a mug full of pens
and pencils, but there was no sign of floppies or hard copy anywhere.
    As I pointed to the peripheral equipment in the photograph,
Matt pulled out a pair of rimless half glasses and followed my fingers with his
gaze.
    "This shows Eric had a complete system with his own
printer and drives," I said, "so he wasn't just using a terminal
connected to a mainframe. It's hard to believe all his disks and printout are
stored out of sight."
    "So, does that mean you think the murderer stole the
computer stuff?" Matt asked. "And if so, why?"
    While we ate, I told Matt my initial theory that the
murderer might be a scientist who stood to lose a lot if Eric retracted the journal
article with their hydrogen data.
    "Then it would make sense that the killer would try to
remove all evidence that there was something wrong with their work," I
said. "And that evidence would most likely have been around Eric's
computer."
    "Wouldn't the error in the data eventually be found out
anyway?" Matt asked.
    Temporarily abandoning loyalty to my profession, I explained
that this kind of thing happened all the time. Not murders necessarily, but
borderline dishonesty. It wouldn't be the first time scientists exaggerated the
potential of a new technology in order to get funding to further the research.
    Although I still didn't know the exact nature of the
discrepancy or error Eric had uncovered, I'd been around research science long
enough to make a good guess. I told Matt that the error wasn't necessarily an
incorrect number or calculation. It could be that the team had neglected to
account for some particular factor in their experiment, like a magnetic effect,
or a temperature dependency. In an