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the ordinary was Mad Jack next door, and he only saw the van. No one called or used a plumber that day, that's how we know it's involved.'
    'Well, you know all about the missing Mary Malone, but we don't know enough about Mary Salinas. We need to get more details and match them up to each other, see if there's a pattern. I think you need to go and speak with the Salinas family and get as many details as you can. In the meantime, I'll see if I can hack into the missing persons' file and look for other cases like Mary's. I'll also get started on the beige plumber's van, maybe call around and see how many companies have them. What's your cell number so I can get hold of you if something comes up?'
    Malone admired the lad's way of thinking, but winced at the thought of the cellphone. 'Sounds like a plan to me. I don't have a cellphone, so I guess I'll just meet you back at headquarters here when
I'm done.' So he'd just given his house, Casa de la Morte, a new title
— Headquarters. Maybe this was a new beginning.
    He stood up, finished his coffee, and left the house whistling; he was happy with his new mission.

4
B ERLIN
    Plasmid Systems Inc was a world leader in all areas of DNA and cloning techniques. Its head office and main laboratory were based in Germany, in Berlin. PSI employed over three thousand people, and was growing. Its labs took up several thousand square metres, and supplied medical and research solutions to the health, cosmetic, and engineering industries worldwide.
    It would have been easy to call it a one-stop cloning shop, and in layman's terms, it was. But the members of the board were quick to point out that its facilities in fact comprised three interrelated subdivisions
— recombinant DNA technology or DNA cloning, reproductive cloning, and therapeutic cloning.
    It was early Friday morning and Dr Klaus Zudermeister, head of the three divisions, was tired. A big man, some would call him borderline obese, Klaus had hair in all the wrong places and none of it in the right ones. His breathing was laboured after climbing the three flights of stairs to the lab — part of his new fitness regime. In his hand was a half-eaten bacon sandwich, definitely not part of his recommended diet, but he'd decided to change one thing at a time.
    He was, as usual, the first to arrive and although he wasn't a morning person, he liked the quiet of the lab without the technicians.
By being the first one there in the morning, he felt like he and the lab were in some way waking up together.
    Klaus stood there in the darkness for a while, looking across the bench tops at the small red standby lights and listening to the gentle hum of the machines' transformers; he often thought the hum sounded like the rhythmic breathing of a machine in a deep sleep.
    Against the wall, on the far side of the room, were rows of jars containing embryos. In an attempt to depersonalize this part of the business, experiment numbers were written on the glass sides, but these numbers could so easily be replaced by the names of their residents.
    'Time to wake up,' he announced as he flicked on the main switch.
The lab bolted into life as if waking from a bad dream. He made his way to his office, running his finger along the line of benches as he went. He missed the hands-on part of the job, and often during board meetings found his mind going through old experiments. Was he really cut out to talk about profit and loss and lab budgets? He didn't like managing staff and he didn't like management systems; in fact, the only aspect of the job he really liked now was the pay.
    He opened his office door and walked inside, throwing the remains of his sandwich into the bin beside the coat rack. As he turned and closed the door, he switched on the room's lights. Taking off his jacket, he moved to the mirror and stared at the person looking back at him.
He half-expected to see no one there — after all, he'd sold his soul to take this position, hadn't he?
    He