Binary - Michael Crichton [15]
'Wonder what that was about?' Lewis said.
As they passed the warehouse, Graves read the lettering. He was surprised to find it wasn't a warehouse at all.
BURNS BROS PLASTICS
VACUUM MOULDING
Containers of all sorts
'Damned if I know,' Graves said. He made a note of the name and address in his notebook and then looked up at the street. The limousine was going north now. It went two blocks and turned left, then left again. It pulled up in front of another warehouse.
'It seems he's doing some shopping,' Lewis said.
'He's in the wrong part of town.'
'I'll drive past,' Lewis said, and continued smoothly past the warehouse and the parked limousine. Graves looked out of the corner of his eye. He saw George, the chauffeur, lighting a cigarette. He saw the large glass windows of the warehouse, which was also a salesroom of some kind. Inside he saw Wright standing at the counter receiving a package. In the window were displayed various shining pieces of laboratory equipment.
SANDERSON SCIENTIFIC EQUIPMENT AND SUPPLY
Serving Hospitals and Laboratories
Since 1953
Graves had to smile. Only in California would a date like 1953 seem proof of ageless service to the consumer. 'We'll wait for him here,' he said, and Lewis pulled over at the end of the block and cut the engine.
Graves checked his watch. It was 8:39. A moment later the limousine sped past them while he was making a note of the scientific supply company and its address. Lewis followed a short distance behind.
The limo again went uptown and pulled over in front of a machine shop. Wright got out and was met at the door by a man carrying a small paper bag. Wright shook hands with the man, who was dressed in dungarees and a blue work shirt. Then Wright opened the paper bag to look inside. He removed one small, shiny metal object, nodded, exchanged a few more words with the man, and got back into his car.
The limousine drove off.
As they passed the machine shop, Graves noted the address and the name. He stared at his list. 'A plastics manufacturer, a scientific supply house, and now a machine shop.'
'He isn't buying presents for his girls,' Lewis said, and laughed.
'Did you check out that purchase last week?' The week before, Wright had also visited several small industrial manufacturers.
'Yeah,' Lewis said. 'It was two twelve-foot lengths of flexible hosing. Very unusual.'
'What's unusual about that?'
'It was stainless steel.'
'Meaning?'
Lewis shrugged. 'The guy I talked to said that nobody bought flexible stainless steel hosing any more. People use either plastic or something like aluminium. Stainless is only used for piping very corrosive materials.'
'Such as?'
'Concentrated dyes, corrosive gases, that kind of thing. The guy said it was pretty uncommon. Most highly corrosive stuff is pumped through glass piping. But of course, glass isn't flexible.'
'And Wright bought two lengths of flexible steel?'
'Right. Twelve-foot lengths. At eighty-three dollars a foot.' Graves nodded and watched the car.
'He's buying a lot of specialized equipment. Why?'
'You mean, why is he doing it?'
'No,' Graves said. 'I mean, why is he doing it himself, in person?'
'I don't follow you. Why shouldn't he do it himself?'
'Because he's too smart for that,' Graves said.
The limousine went uptown twenty blocks and pulled over in front of another building. The sign said HARRELSON GARMENTS AND CUSTOM GOODS. They watched Wright get out of the limo and go inside.
'I'll be goddamned,' Graves said.
'What is it?' Lewis said.
'Harrelson was in the papers a year ago. They made rubber suits and whips and things like that; there was a minor scandal.'
Lewis shook his head: 'It really is true, then.'
'What?'
'About your memory.'
Graves shook his head. He'd been through all this before. 'I don't have a photographic memory,' he said. 'I have a better than average memory, that's all.'
'Are you trying to convince me?'
'No, just telling you.'
'You sound sore.'
'You better understand,' Graves said, 'that I don't have any