The first out-of-town member of the team to arrive was Curt Neuman. It was midmorning and Kim was in the cottage, preparing to leave for the castle, when she heard the muffled roar of a motorcycle. Going to the window, she saw a cycle glide to a stop in front of the house. A man of approximately her age dismounted and lifted the visor of his helmet. A suitcase was strapped to the back of the bike.
“Can I help you?” Kim called out through the window. She assumed it was a delivery person who’d missed the turnoff to the lab.
“Excuse me,” he said in an apologetic voice that had a mild Germanic timbre. “Perhaps you can help me locate the Omni lab.”
“You must be Dr. Neuman,” Kim said. “Just a minute. I’ll be right out.” Edward had mentioned an accent when he’d told Kim he was expecting Curt that day. She hadn’t expected the renowned researcher to arrive by motorcycle.
Kim quickly closed some fabric sample books left open on the game table and picked up several days’ worth of newspapers strewn over the couch in anticipation of inviting Curt Neuman in. Checking herself briefly in the foyer mirror, she opened the door.
Curt had removed his helmet and was cradling it in his arm like a medieval knight. But he wasn’t looking in Kim’s direction. He was looking toward the lab. Edward had apparently heard the motorcycle and was barreling along the dirt road in his car on his way to the cottage. He pulled up, jumped out, and embraced Curt as if they were long-lost brothers.
The two men talked briefly about Curt’s metallic-red BMW motorcycle until Edward realized Kim was standing in the doorway. He then introduced Kim to Curt.
Kim shook hands with the researcher. He was a large man, two inches taller than Edward, with blond hair and cerulean blue eyes.
“Curl’s originally from Munich,” Edward said. “He trained at Stanford and UCLA. Many people, including myself, think he’s the most talented biologist specializing in drug reactions in the country.”
“That’s enough, Edward,” Curt managed to say as his face blushed red.
“I was lucky to steal him away from Merck,” Edward continued. “They wanted him to stay so badly that they offered to build him his own lab.”
Kim watched in sympathy as poor Curt squirmed in the face of Edward’s encomium, reminding her of their own reactions to Stanton’s praise during the dinner when they’d first met. Curt seemed surprisingly bashful for his commanding size, model-like good looks, and reputed intelligence. He avoided eye contact with Kim.
“Enough of this blabber,” Edward said. “Come on, Curt! Follow me with that death-wish machine of yours. I want you to see the lab.”
Kim watched them caravan across the field toward the lab before she went back inside the house to finish what she had to do before heading up to the castle.
Later that day, just as Kim and Edward were finishing a light lunch, the second out-of-town researcher arrived. Edward heard the car drive up. Pushing back from the table, he went outside. Shortly afterward he returned with a tall, thin, but muscular man in tow. He was swarthy and handsome and appeared to Kim more like a professional tennis player than a researcher.
Edward introduced them. His name was François Leroux. To Kim’s surprise he made a motion to kiss the back of her hand, but he didn’t actually do it. All she felt was the light caress of his breath on her skin.
As he’d done with Curt, Edward gave Kim a brief but highly complimentary summary of François’s credentials. But unlike Curt, François had no trouble hearing Edward’s praise. While Edward went on and on, he’d locked his dark, piercing eyes on Kim in a manner that made her squirm.
“The fact of the matter is that François is a genius,” Edward was saying. “He’s a biophysicist originally from Lyons, France, who trained at the University of Chicago. What sets him off from his colleagues is that he has managed to specialize in both NMR and X-ray crystallography. He’s managed to combine two technologies which are usually competitive.”