"Our two hundred invited television journalists will stay at the Hilton, and we will have interview facilities there as well as in the conference halls, so our speakers can spread the message to video audiences around the world. We will also have a number of print media people to carry the word to elite opinion makers, the ones that read but do not watch TV."

"Good," Drake said. He appeared pleased.

"Each day's theme will be identified by a distinctive graphic icon, emphasizing flood, fire, rising sea levels, drought, icebergs, typhoons, and hurricanes, and so on. Each day we have a fresh contingent of politicians from around the world coming to attend and give interviews explaining the high level of their dedication and concern about this newly emerging problem."

"Good, good." Drake nodded.

"The politicians will stay for only a daysome only a few hoursand they will not have time to attend the conferences beyond a brief photo-op showing them in the audience, but they are briefed and will be effective. Then we have local schoolchildren, grades four to seven, coming each day to learn about the dangerssorry, the catastrophein their futures, and we have educational kits for grade-school teachers, so they can teach their kids about the crisis of abrupt climate change."

"When do those kits go out?"

"They were going out today, but now we'll hold them for rebannering."

"Okay," Drake said. "And for high schools?"

"We have some trouble there," the PR guy said. "We showed the kits to a sample of high school science teachers and, uh amp;"

"And what?" Drake said.

"The feedback we got was they might not go over so well."

Drake's expression turned dark. "And why not?"

"Well, the high school curriculum is very college oriented, and there isn't a lot of room for electives amp;"

"This is hardly an elective amp;"

"And, uh, they felt it was all speculative and unsubstantiated. They kept saying things like, Where's the hard science here?' Just reporting, sir."

"God damn it," Drake said, "it is not speculative. It is happening!"

"Uh, perhaps we didn't get the right materials that show what you are saying amp;"

"Ah fuck. Never mind now," Drake said. "Just trust me, it's happening. Count on it." He turned, and said in a surprised voice, "Evans, how long have you been here?"

Peter Evans had been standing in the doorway for at least two minutes and had overheard a good deal of the conversation. "Just got here, Mr. Drake."

"All right." Drake turned to the others. "I think we've gone through this. Evans, you come with me."

Drake shut the door to his office. "I need your counsel, Peter," he said quietly. He walked around to his desk, picked up some papers, and slid them toward Evans. "What the fuck is this?"

Evans looked. "That is George's withdrawal of support."

"Did you draw it up?"

"I did."

"Whose idea was paragraph 3a?"

"Paragraph 3a?"

"Yes. Did you add that little bit of wisdom?"

"I don't really remember"

"Then let me refresh your memory," Drake said. He picked up the document and started to read. " In the event of any claim that I am not of sound mind, there may be an attempt to obtain injunctive relief from the terms of this document. Therefore this document authorizes the payment of fifty thousand dollars per week to NERF while awaiting the judgment of a full trial. Said monies shall be deemed sufficient to pay ongoing costs incurred by NERF and shall by said payment deny injunctive relief.' Did you write this, Evans?"

"I did."

"Whose idea was it?"

"George's."

"George is not a lawyer. He had help."

"Not from me," Evans said. "He more or less dictated that clause. I wouldn't have thought of it."

Drake snorted in disgust. "Fifty thousand a week," he said. "At that rate, it will take us four years to receive the ten-million-dollar grant."

"That's what George wanted the document to say," Evans said.

"But whose idea was it?" Drake said. "If it wasn't you, who was it?"

"I don't know."

"Find out."

"I don't know if I can," Evans said. "I mean, George is dead now, and I don't know who he might have consulted"

Drake glared at Evans. "Are you with us here, Peter, or not?" He started pacing back and forth. "Because this Vanutu litigation is undoubtedly the most significant lawsuit we have ever filed." He lapsed into his speech-making mode. "The stakes are enormous, Peter. Global warming is the greatest crisis facing mankind. You know that. I know that. Most of the civilized world knows that. We must act to save the planet, before it is too late."

"Yes," Evans said. "I know that."

"Do you?" Drake said. "We have a lawsuit, a very important lawsuit, that needs our help. And fifty thousand dollars a week will strangle it."

Evans was sure that was not true. "Fifty thousand is a lot of money," he said, "I don't see why it should strangle"

"Because it will!" Drake snapped. "Because I am telling you it will!" He seemed surprised by his own outburst. He gripped the desk, got control of himself. "Look," he said. "We can never forget about our opponents here. The forces of industry are strong, phenomenally strong. And industry wants to be left alone to pollute. It wants to pollute here, and in Mexico, and in China, and wherever else it does its business. The stakes are huge."

"I understand," Evans said.

"Many powerful forces are taking an interest in this case, Peter."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Forces that will stop at nothing to be sure that we lose it."

Evans frowned. What was Drake telling him?

"Their influence is everywhere, Peter. They may have influence with members of your law firm. Or other people you know. People whom you believe you can trustbut you can't. Because they are on the other side, and they don't even know it."

Evans said nothing. He was just looking at Drake.

"Be prudent, Peter. Watch your back. Don't discuss what you are doing with anyonewith anyoneexcept me. Try not to use your cell phone. Avoid e-mail. And keep an eye out in case you are followed."

"Okay amp;. But actually I've already been followed," Evans said. "There's a blue Prius"

"Those were our guys. I don't know what they are doing. I called them off days ago."

"Your guys?"

"Yes. It's a new security firm we've been trying out. They're obviously not very competent."

"I'm confused," Evans said. "NERF has a security firm?"

"Absolutely. For years, now. Because of the danger we face. Please understand me: We are all in danger, Peter. Don't you understand what this lawsuit means if we win? Trillions of dollars that industry must pay in the coming years, to halt their emissions that are causing global warming. Trillions. With those stakes, a few lives don't matter. So: Be very damn careful."

Evans said that he would. Drake shook his hand.

"I want to know who told George about the paragraph," Drake said. "And I want that money freed up for us to use it as we see fit. This is all riding on you now," he said. "Good luck, Peter."

On his way out of the building, Evans ran into a young man who was sprinting up the stairs. They collided so hard that Evans was almost knocked down. The young man apologized hastily, and continued on his way. He looked like one of the kids working on the conference. Evans wondered what the crisis could be, now.

When he got back outside, he looked down the street. The blue Prius was gone.

He got into the car and drove back to Morton's, to see Sarah.

Chapter 27

HOLMBY HILLS

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 5

5:57 P.M.

Traffic was heavy. He crept slowly along Sunset; he had plenty of time to think. The conversation with Drake left him feeling odd. There had been a funny quality to the actual meeting. As if it didn't really need to happen, as if Drake just wanted to make sure he was able to call Evans in, and Evans would come. As if he were asserting his authority. Or something like that.

Anyway, Evans felt, something was off.

And Evans also felt a little strange about the security firm. That just didn't seem right. After all, NERF was one of the good guys. They shouldn't be sneaking around and following people. And Drake's paranoid warnings were somehow not persuasive. Drake was overreacting, as he so often did.

Drake was dramatic by nature. He couldn't help it. Everything was a crisis, everything was desperate, everything was vitally important. He lived in a world of extreme urgency, but it wasn't necessarily the real world.

Evans called his office, but Heather had gone for the day. He called Lowenstein's office and spoke to Lisa. "Listen," he said, "I need your help."

Her voice was lower, conspiratorial. "Of course, Peter."

"My apartment was robbed."

"Noyou, too?"

"Yes, me, too. And I really need to talk to the police"

"Well, yes, you certainly domy goodnessdid they take anything?"

"I don't think so," he said, "but just to file a report, all thatI'm kind of busy right now, dealing with Sarah amp;it may go later into the night amp;"

"Well, of course, do you need me to deal with the police about your robbery?"

"Could you?" he said. "It would help so much."

"Why of course, Peter," she said. "Leave it to me." She paused. When she spoke again, it was almost a whisper. "Is there, ah, anything you don't want the police to find?"

"No," he said.

"I mean, it's all right with me, everybody in LA has a few bad habits, otherwise we wouldn't be here"

"No, Lisa," he said. "Actually, I don't have any drugs, if that's what you mean."

"Oh, no," she said quickly. "I wasn't assuming anything. No pictures or anything like that?"

"No, Lisa."

"Nothing, you know, underage?"

"Afraid not."

"Okay, I just wanted to be sure."

"Well, thanks for doing this. Now to get in through the door"

"I know," she said, "the key is under the back mat."

"Yes." He paused. "How'd you know that?"

"Peter," she said, sounding a little offended. "You can count on me to know things."

"All right. Well, thanks."

"Don't mention it. Now, what about Margo? How's she doing?" Lisa said.

"She's fine."

"You went to see her?"

"This morning, yes, and"

"No, I mean at the hospital. Didn't you hear? Margo was coming back from the bank today and walked in while her apartment was being robbed. Three robberies in one day! You, Margo, Sarah! What is going on? Do you know?"

"No," Evans said. "It's very mysterious."

"It is."

"But about Margo amp;?"

"Oh yes. So I guess she decided to fight these guys, which was the wrong thing to do, and they beat her up, maybe knocked her unconscious. She had a black eye, I heard, and while the cops were there interviewing her, she passed out. Got completely paralyzed and couldn't move. And she even stopped breathing."

"You're kidding."

"No. I had a long conversation with the detective who was there. He told me it just came over her, and she was unable to move and was dark blue before the paramedics showed up and took her to UCLA. She's been in intensive care all afternoon. The doctors are waiting to ask her about the blue ring."

"What blue ring?"

"Just before she became paralyzed, she was slurring her words but she said something about the blue ring, or the blue ring of death."

"The blue ring of death," Evans said. "What does that mean?"

"They don't know. She isn't able to talk yet. Does she take drugs?"

"No, she's a health nut," Evans said.

"Well, I hear the doctors say she'll be okay. It was some temporary paralysis."

"I'll go see her later," he said.

"When you do, will you call me afterward? And I'll handle your apartment, don't worry."

It was dark when he got to Morton's house. The security people were gone; the only car parked in front was Sarah's Porsche. She opened the front door when he rang. She had changed into a tracksuit. "Everything all right?" he said.

"Yes," she said. They came into the hallway, and they crossed to the living room. The lights were on, and the room was warm and inviting.

"Where are the security people?"

"They left for dinner. They'll be back."

"They all left?"

"They'll be back. I want to show you something," she said. She pulled out a wand with an electronic meter attached to it. She ran it over his body, like an airport security check. She tapped his left pocket. "Empty it."

The only thing in his pocket were his car keys. He dropped them on the coffee table. Sarah was running the wand over his chest, his jacket. She touched his right jacket pocket, gestured for him to empty it out.

"What's this about?" he said.

She shook her head, and didn't speak.

He pulled out a penny. Set it on the counter.

She waved her hand: more?

He felt again. Nothing.

She ran the wand over his car keys. There was a plastic rectangle on the chain, which unlocked his car door. She pried it open with a pocket-knife.

"Hey, listen amp;"

The rectangle popped open. Evans saw electronic circuits inside, a watch battery. Sarah pulled out a tiny bit of electronics hardly bigger than the tip of a lead pencil. "Bingo."

"Is that what I think it is?"

She took the electronic unit and dropped it into a glass of water. Then she turned to the penny. She examined it minutely, then twisted it in her fingers. To Evans's surprise, it broke in half, revealing a small electronic center.