Bloodline

Zurich.



Monday, October 4.



Ten a.m.



When Elizabeth arrived at her office, a sealed envelope marked "CONFIDENTIAL," with her name on it, was lying on her desk. She opened it In it was a report from the chemical laboratory. It was signed "Emil Joeppli." It was full of technical terms, and Elizabeth read it through without understanding it Then she read it again. And again. Each time more slowly. When finally she had grasped its significance, she said to Kate, "I'll be back in an hour." And she went to find Emil Joeppli.



He was a tall man about thirty-five, with a thin, freckled face, and a scalp that was bald except for a tonsure of bright red hair. He fidgeted uncomfortably, as though unused to having visitors in his little laboratory.



"I read your report," Elizabeth told him. "There's a great deal in it that I don't understand. I wonder if you would mind explaining it to me."



Instantly, Joeppli's nervousness vanished. He leaned forward in his chair, sure and confident, and began to speak rapidly. "I've been experimenting with a method of inhibiting rapid differentiation of the collagens, by using mucopolysaccharides and enzyme blocking techniques. Collagen, of course, is the fundamental protein basis of all connective tissue."



"Of course," Elizabeth said.



She did not even try to understand the technical part of what Joeppli was saying. What Elizabeth did understand was that the project he was working on could retard the aging process. It was a breathtaking concept.



She sat there, silent, listening, thinking about what this could mean in terms of revolutionizing the lives of men and women all over the world. According to Joeppli, there was no reason why everyone sould not live to be a hundred, or a hundred and fifty, or even two hundred years old.



"It would not even be necessary to have injections," Joeppli told Elizabeth. "With this formula the ingredients could be taken orally in a pill or a capsule."



The possibilities were staggering. It would mean nothing less than a social revolution. And billions of dollars for Roffe and Sons. They would manufacture it themselves, and license it out to other companies as well. There was no one over fifty years of age who would not take a pill that would keep him or her young. It was difficult for Elizabeth to conceal her excitement.



"How far along are you on this project"



"As I wrote in my report, I've been doing tests with animals for the last four years. All the recent results have been positive. It's just about ready for testing on human beings." She liked his enthusiasm.



"Who else knows about this?" Elizabeth asked.



"Your father knew. It's a Red Folder project. Top security. That means that I report only to the president of the company and to one member of the board."



Elizabeth suddenly felt chilled. "Which member?"



"Mr. Walther Gassner."



Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "From this time on," she said, "I want you to report directly to me. And only to me."



Joeppli looked at her in surprise. "Yes, Miss Roffe."



"How soon could we have this on the market?"



"If everything goes well, eighteen to twenty-four months from now."



"Fine. If you need anything - money, extra help, equipment - let me know. I want you to move as quickly as possible."



"Yes, ma'am."



Elizabeth rose, and instantly Emil Jeoppli jumped to his feet



"It's a pleasure meeting you." He smiled, and added shyly, "I liked your father."



"Thank you," Elizabeth said. Sam had known about this project Was that another reason he refused to sell the company?



"At the door Emil Joeppli turned to Elizabeth.



"It's going to work on people!"



"Yes," Elizabeth said. "Of course it will."



It had to.



"How is a Red Folder project handled?"



Kate Erling asked, "From the beginning?"



"From the beginning."



"Well. As you know, we have several hundred new products in various experimental stages. They - "



"Who authorizes them?"



"Up to a certain amount of money, the heads of the different departments involved," Kate Erling said.



"What amount of money?"



"Fifty thousand dollars."



"And after that?"



"There must be board approval. Of course, a project does not come into the Red Folder catagory until it has passed its initial tests."



"You mean until it looks like it has a chance of being successful?" Elizabeth asked.



"That's right."



"How is it protected?"



"If it's an important project, all the work is transferred to one of our high-security laboratories. All the papers are removed from the general files and put into a Red Folder file. Only three people have access to that. The scientist in charge of the project, the president of the company, and one member of the board."



"Who decides who that member will be?" Elizabeth asked.



"Your father selected Walther Gassner."



The moment the words were out of her mouth, Kate realized her mistake.



The two women looked at each other, and Elizabeth said, "Thank you, Kate. That will be all."



Elizabeth had made no mention of Joeppli's project. Yet Kate had known what Elizabeth was talking about. There were two possibilities. Either Sam had trusted her and told her about Joeppli's project, or she had learned about it on her own. For someone else.



This was too important to allow anything to go wrong. She would check on the security herself. And she had to speak to Walther Gassner. She reached for the telephone, then stopped. There was a better way.



Late that afternoon Elizabeth was on a commercial airliner to Berlin.



Walther Gassner was nervous.



They were seated at a corner booth in the upstairs dining room of the Papillon on the Kurfursten-damm. Whenever Elizabeth had visited Berlin in the past, Walther had always insisted that Elizabeth have dinner at his home, with Anna and him. This time there had been no mention of that. He had suggested instead that they meet at this restaurant. And he had come without Anna.



Walther Gassner still had the clear-cut, boyish, moviestar handsomeness, but the surface gloss had begun to crack. There were lines of tension in his face, and his hands never stopped moving. He seemed to be under some extraordinary tension. When Elizabeth asked about Anna, Walther was vague. "Anna's not feeling well. She couldn't come."



"Is it anything serious?"



"No, no. She'll be fine. She's at home, resting."



"I'll call her and - "



"Better not to disturb her."



It was a puzzling conversation, totally unlike Walther, whom Elizabeth had always found so open and outgoing.



She brought up the subject of Emil Joeppli. "We need what he's working on very badly," Elizabeth said.



Walther nodded. "It's going to be big."



"I've asked him not to report to you anymore," Elizabeth told him.



Walther's hands suddenly went very still. It was like a shout. He looked at Elizabeth and asked, "Why did you do that?"



"It has nothing to do with you, Walther. I would have done exactly the same thing with any other board member working with him. I simply want to handle this my own way."



He nodded. "I see." But his hands remained motionless on the table. "You have a right, of course." He forced a smile and she could see what it was costing him. "Elizabeth," he said, "Anna has a lot of stock in the company. She can't sell it unless you vote yes. It's - it's very important. I - "



"I'm sorry, Walther, I can't let the stock be sold now."



His hands suddenly began to move again.