Alex Harris 00 - Armed

we’ve worked very closely on this. There are a lot of people involved but I just can’t imagine anyone sabotaging this project. I’ve met with a lot of our vendors and if we got the job, they would be supplying us with material, but none of them knew all the details of our proposal.”
    “You may still get it,” I said hopefully, pushing my indecision on Mr. Poupée’s character to the back of my mind.
    “Yes. True. It just came at terrible time.” Mr. Poupée closed his eyes again, the pain of the last few days etched on his face. He then looked up at me. “Never underestimate the competition.”
    “It’s none of my business, but if you don’t get this project, will it affect the company severely?”
    “Probably not, but if we did get it, it would expand a new market that we’re just on the fringes of. You’ve always got to keep your product current, constantly have to upgrade your line.”
    I knew exactly what he meant. Always Prepared had recently branched out into the translation field—trying to keep current, covering all the angles, anticipating what the client might ask for and having it ready.
    “Now’s probably not the best time to bring this up, but there’s something you need to see.” I retrieved the card from my purse and brought it into Mr. Poupée’s office.
    After we spent some time looking at it and discussing the implications, Mr. Poupée tried to call Oliver Absher but without success. He told me again he had no idea whatsoever as to what Mrs. Scott’s dilemma could have been.
    Before I left for the day, I decided to go see Ron Spender. Something played around in my mind. Someone had tipped off the other company and if Mrs. Scott found out, maybe it got her killed.
    As I made my way to the design office, I warmed to this idea, but something still didn’t fit. If Mrs. Scott had had such information, surely she would have brought it to Mr. Poupée’s attention immediately.
    Ron Spender sat at his drawing table, his back to the door and one elbow propped up on the table with his head resting on it. I lightly knocked on the door and re-introduced myself.
    “Have you spoken with Mr. Poupée today?” I asked to confirm Ron already knew about the duplicate proposal.
    Ron hesitated for a moment. “Are you talking about the museum job?” I nodded. “He called me this afternoon as soon as he left the meeting with the committee.”
    “Then you know the news?”
    “About someone else having a similar proposal? Yeah.” Ron crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back in the chair. “Shit.”
    “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
    Ron looked up. Though only in his mid thirties his hair had grayed at the temples. He had deep blue eyes, a square chin and a kind smile, though he too, like Mr. Poupée, looked very tired.
    “To be honest, no, I can’t see it being a coincidence, though I guess it’s possible and if it’s not a coincidence, then to answer your next question, no, I have no idea how they could have gotten our ideas and bid.” He shook his head. “I like my job, don’t get me wrong, but mannequin designs? This is not the stuff of high espionage. When I think of spying and stuff like that, I think more of a small boat, dark night, international waters and a guy named Yuri. You know what I mean? And I don’t usually see mannequin parts lying in the bottom of the boat.”
    I laughed. “You’re right. Mannequins just don’t lend themselves to skullduggery, do they?” Or do they? A mannequin arm had been used to kill Mrs. Scott and now mannequin designs were being pillaged.
    Ron looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Are you thinking someone breaking in to get our designs killed Elvira?”
    I pulled over a stool and sat across from Ron. “No, not exactly,” I answered. “I mean if that were the case, then they just stole them a few days ago, and that wouldn’t give them much time, I would imagine, to work up their own version.”
    “The proposal had to be in three weeks ago. We’ve just been waiting to hear.”
    “So it couldn’t be that. And besides, even if someone did break in to get the designs or other pertinent information, why break in at five-thirty on a workday to do it?”
    “You’re right,” Ron said. “More like on a weekend and very late. But there’ve been no break-ins at all. Nothing’s missing. All our original designs are still locked up tight here. Plus a copy of the sealed bid.”
    “As long as I’m here, can I ask