“And I can’t be sure of it, but I think it’s possible that I saw Champ Pollion returning to his cottage around two this morning.”
“But you can’t be sure?”
Sean shook his head. “I couldn’t testify to it. It was too dark. But it’s still something we need to check out when we do our alibi canvass. Oh, one more thing. I understand that Monk traveled outside the country about eight or nine months ago. We need to find out where he went.”
“The Bureau has his passport and personal effects.”
“You’re the sheriff down here. Ask for copies.”
“You think it could be important?”
“Right now everything is important.”
Sean walked back out into the bright sunshine and wondered when, if ever, his life would come close to being normal. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around.
Alicia Chadwick was standing there looking very upset. “We need to talk. Now!”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then I’ll take off my metal leg and beat you to death with it.”
“I wouldn’t want you to have that on your conscience. Let’s go.”
Chapter 28
Barry walked down the hallway carrying a cardboard box. Lurking ten paces behind him was Michelle. The drop-off for mail and overnight parcels was right outside the front door.
Barry unlocked the front door with his key and headed outside. Michelle picked up her pace, reached the unoccupied foyer and ducked down behind a large potted tree.
When Barry unlocked the door and came back in, Michelle tensed. This would be tight because she didn’t have a key. With one eye on Barry and one eye on the slowly closing door, she darted out. He was less than three feet from her and never turned around, a testament to how silently she could move. As Barry disappeared around the corner, Michelle stabbed her foot inside the door to prevent it from closing. Removing her shoe she wedged it between the door and the jamb and hurried out.
It only took her a few seconds to find Barry’s package in the pile outside the building next to the mailbox. Michelle whipped out a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote down the address where the box was going. She also glanced at the sender’s name and wasn’t terribly surprised to find it wasn’t Barry’s.
“Lola Martin,” she said, reading off the sender’s name. She ducked back inside the building, grabbed her shoe and jogged back to her section of the building. She managed to distract a nurse long enough to take a peek at the patient records at the nurse’s station. Lola Martin was comfortably ensconced in the Cuckoo’s Nest, the psychotic residents of which were not known to post many packages. She ducked into the patient services center and used a telephone there to make a phone call to a buddy of hers with the Fairfax police. After she’d filled him in, he said, “How’d you score this info, Maxwell?”
“I’m, uh, working undercover.”
An hour later, Michelle went into Sandy’s empty room. The flowers were still there, but the dirt had been cleaned up off the floor. Michelle assumed that Sandy’s hands were by now spick-and-span clean too, even under the manicured nails. Michelle had never had that problem for the simple fact that she’d never had a manicure. She didn’t want anyone messing with her trigger finger.
Five minutes later, her mission accomplished, Michelle headed back to her room. That afternoon she attended a group session. She was so pleased with the progress she’d made on nailing Barry that she actually stood up and talked about herself. “I’m Michelle and I want to get better,” she said.
“In fact, I think I am better.” She’d smiled at the others in the circle as they nodded approvingly. Some lightly clapped their hands while others whispered words of encouragement. A few others sat there sulking or else looking at her in disbelief.
If it occurred to Michelle that the only reason she thought she was better was because she’d made herself too busy to think about her own problems, the woman showed no sign of such an internal dilemma. She essentially lived for the adrenaline and not for the often calamitous revelations of self-examination. True to that personality trait, all she could think about was Barry and Sandy. After that she just wanted to get the hell out of here before they finally figured out she might belong in the Cuckoo’s Nest after all.
Chapter 29
Sean sat across from Alicia in her office in Hut Number One. She’d whisked him through the main area so fast that he’d only been able to see a large open area with lots of small desks and what was doubtless a genius at every one of them. He could almost smell the mental power of the folks working there along with the hum of multiple servers.
He motioned to Alicia’s right leg and said in a joking tone, “You try and club me with that thing I’m going to lay you out.”
She didn’t even crack a smile. “How did Len Rivest die? And don’t tell me it was a suicide.”
He noticed that her eyes were red. “I don’t know how he died.”
“How could you not know?”
“Only the killer knows for sure. And considering that I didn’t kill him, I can only speculate as to the cause of death.”
“All right, go ahead and speculate.”
“I can’t do that. It’s an ongoing police investigation.”
She snapped, “I can’t believe you’re falling back on that pathetic line.”
“I used to be a cop and I know how leaks can screw up an investigation. The police are treating it as a suspicious death.”
“But that could mean he was murdered or died accidentally?”
He smiled. “Or it might be determined that he actually died from natural causes.”
“You said someone killed him.”
“And I could be wrong.”
“Oh thank you for being such a big help,” she said.
Sean leaned forward, his features no longer jocular. “The fact is I just met you and don’t know you from Eve. For all I know you could be the murderer.”
“I didn’t kill anyone.”
“I never met a murderer who said otherwise. That’s why we have defense lawyers.”
“Do you think this is connected to Monk’s death?”
“You must have missed my last point. Would you like me to repeat it?”
Now Alicia sat forward. “Monk Turing’s last will and testament was discovered in his house last night. I was just told that in that will, Monk named me as his daughter’s guardian. I intend to carry that duty out to the fullest. If the girl’s in danger I want to know about it.”
“Monk named you guardian, I didn’t think you two were that close.”
“Monk knew that I cared about Viggie. Her well-being is my top priority.”
“Well, with Rivest getting killed, Babbage Town doesn’t seem to be all that safe.”
Alicia put a hand over her eyes and moaned, “Poor Len! Oh, God, I can’t believe he’s dead.” Sean sat back. “You seem to be taking Len’s death really hard. Any particular reason why?”
She grabbed a tissue from a box on her desk and blew her nose. “Len and I were friends.”
“Friends. Good friends, or something more?”
“That’s none of your damn business.”
“If you had a relationship with Len Rivest, it will be the business of the police to look into that.”
“Okay, we were seeing each other, so what?”
“Casual dating? Deeper than that? Wedding plans?”
“You are an obnoxious prick!”
“You’re obviously very smart, but apparently you can’t see that I’m preparing you for what the police and FBI will ask. You think Agent Ventris is going to go gentle on you? Dead man plus relationship equals you being a suspect.”
“I didn’t kill him. Dammit I cared for him. He was a nice man. Maybe we had a future together. Now?” She turned away from him as tears trickled down her face.
“Okay, Alicia, okay,” Sean said gently. “I know this is hard for you.” He paused. “Can you just tell me if Len mentioned anything to y
ou about anyone wanting to hurt him? Or whether he knew anything that might endanger him? Something to do with Babbage Town? Camp Peary? Anything like that?”
Alicia took several deep breaths and wiped her eyes with her sleeve before answering. “Camp Peary? What has that got to do with Len’s death?”
“If Monk Turing’s death is connected to what happened to Len, maybe everything.”
“But I thought you said it looked like Monk killed himself.”
“We don’t know that for sure. But please answer my question, did Len mention anything to you?”
“He never said anyone wanted to hurt him.”
Sean leaned forward. “All right. How about spies here? He ever talk about that?”
She shook her head. “No, never. Why?”
“Just something he said to me. Anything else you can think of?”
“Well, he did say that the people here had no idea what they were getting into. That what we were working on would change the world. And not in a good way.” She attempted a smile. “He said we geeks were clueless about how the real world worked. Maybe he was right.”
“He mentioned to me that what was going on at Babbage Town was worth countries going to war for. It can’t be just numbers.”
“I’m scared, Sean. Len Rivest was a very capable man. The fact that someone could kill him, like that, in his own house with security all around.” She shuddered and fell back in her chair.
She looked so miserable that Sean rose and put an arm around her shoulders to steady her. “It’ll be okay, Alicia.”
“Don’t patronize me! I’m terrified about Viggie. She could be in danger too.”
“Why?” he asked.
“You tell me. You’re the expert in this sort of thing.”
“Does the girl know her father’s not coming back?”
Alicia looked uncomfortable. “I’m trying to lay the groundwork to tell her, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“If you’re really concerned about her, then I’d get her out of Babbage Town.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I thought Viggie’s welfare was your top priority?”
“Viggie’s happy here. I can’t just uproot her and take the girl someplace she’s never been. It could destroy her.”
“I’ll admit it’s not much of a choice.”
“I have another option,” Alicia said suddenly, gripping his hand. “We stay and you help keep Viggie safe.”
“I’ve already got a job.” I’ve actually got two jobs now, Sean mentally corrected.
“She’s a child. She needs help. Are you just going to sit there and refuse to help a vulnerable little girl who just lost her father?”
Sean started to say something and then stopped. Finally, he sighed. “I guess I could keep an eye on her.”
Tears again trickled down Alicia’s cheeks. “Thank you.”
“I guess now that I’m her unofficial bodyguard I should actually meet the young lady.”
Alicia composed herself and rose. “She’s just finished doing some factoring exercises for me.”
“What?”
“Viggie has the ability to factor large numbers in her head. Not so large as to make my work obsolete, but there could be something lurking in the recesses of her mind that provides the key to unlocking the shortcut I’ve been looking for.”
“And the vulnerable little girl brings the world as we know it to a screeching halt?”
Alicia smiled. “Well, it’s said that the meek shall inherit the earth.”
Chapter 30
Sean had expected to find a shy, quiet type in Viggie Turing; however, the girl was full of energy, and her wide, blue eyes seemed to capture every movement around her. She wore a bright red shirt, Capri pants and was barefoot. After being introduced by Alicia, Viggie immediately took Sean’s hand and led him over to the piano.
“Sit.”
He sat.
“You play?” she asked, staring at him with a pair of eyes that were uncomfortably intense.
“Bass guitar. Only four strings, not so complicated. And when you’re losing millions of brain cells every day like I am that’s a good thing.”
She didn’t bother to acknowledge his little joke. Viggie sat down and played a tune that he’d never heard before.
“Okay, you stumped me,” he said. “Who is it?”
Alicia supplied the answer. “‘Vigenère Turing.’ It’s an original composition.”
Sean stared at the girl, impressed.
“You like it?” she asked simply.
He nodded. “You’re a very gifted musician.”
She smiled, and Sean could finally see the eleven-year-old girl inside, for it was a shy, eager-to-please sort of expression. And this scared him. It might make her trust people she shouldn’t. Spies here, Rivest had said.
“Viggie, do you—”
She started playing another song. When she finished, Viggie got up and walked over to a chair at the kitchen table and stared out the window. As Sean watched, her wide, dancing eyes retreated to slits.
Sean rose. “Viggie?”
Sean looked over at Alicia, who was motioning him to join her on the couch.
Speaking quietly she said, “She sort of withdraws into a little world of her own. If we wait she’ll come around.”
“Has she been seen by experts? Is she on medication?”
“I don’t know about the experts, but she’s not on medication. Now that I’m her guardian I’m going to look into it right away.”
“What do you know about Viggie’s mom?”
“Monk said they were divorced, years ago. He had full custody.”
“That’s what Rivest said. But you know, Alicia, if Viggie’s mother shows up a court will likely grant her custody unless she’s in prison or otherwise incapable of taking care of her daughter.”
“But Monk appointed me guardian.”
“That doesn’t matter when a parent is involved.”
“I’m not going to worry about that until it happens.”
“18,313 and 22,307.”
They turned to look at Viggie, who was now staring at them.
“Those are the prime factors of 408,508,091,” the girl explained. “Aren’t they?”
Alicia nodded. “That’s right. If you multiply 18,313 and 22,307 you get 408,508,091.”
Viggie clapped her hands together and giggled.
“But I just gave you that number barely an hour ago. How did you come up with them so fast?” Alicia asked.
“I saw them, in my head.”
Alicia said eagerly, “Were they lined up? Were you doing math in your head again?”
“No. It just popped into my mind. I didn’t have to do math.”
“At least not any math of which mere mortals are aware,” Alicia said thoughtfully. “Viggie, I think Mr. Sean wanted to ask you something.”
Viggie looked at him expectantly.
“Well, I just wanted you to know that I’ll be coming to see you. Would that be okay?”
Viggie looked at Alicia, who nodded.
“I guess so,” Viggie said. “But I should really check with Monk.”
“You call your dad by his first name?”
“He calls me by my first name. Isn’t that what people do?”
“I guess it is. I haven’t met your dad, but he sounds like a really cool guy.”
“He is. He played in a rock band in college.” Viggie looked out the window again and Sean was afraid she was about to lapse into one of her “funks,” but she merely said, “I wish he’d come home soon. There are lots of things I have to tell him.”
“Like what?” Sean asked, perhaps a little too quickly.
Viggie immediately rose and started playing the piano again, louder and louder.
When she momentarily stopped, Sean said, “Viggie, when was the last time you saw you dad?” This query only caused her to play even more fiercely.
“Viggie!” Sean said, but Alicia was already pulling hi
m toward the front door as Viggie smashed her fists down on the keyboard and raced out of the room. A few seconds later they heard a door slam. An instant later the woman Sean had seen sleeping on the couch the night before entered the room.
Alicia said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on her, Mrs. Graham.” Alicia led Sean from the house.
“Okay, I see your problem with Viggie,” he said, scratching his head.
“I think she knows, deep down, that there’s something wrong with her father. Anytime anyone starts nibbling around that subject she just shuts down.”
He caught sight of Viggie staring at them from her bedroom window and then, like a thought he’d lost in his head, she was gone.
Sean turned to Alicia. “Those numbers she told you. Couldn’t she have figured it out on a calculator?”
“Yes, but it would have taken her about a full day to do it. 18,313 is the 2,000th prime number, meaning she would have to have gone through all those that preceded it to see if it divided into 408,508,091 without leaving a remainder. She just saw it in her head, like she said.”
“And tell me why this is so important?”
“Sean—”
“Damn it, Alicia, people are dying here. I’ve agreed to protect Viggie because you think she’s in danger. The least you can do is start telling me why.”
“All right. The world runs on information sent electronically. How to move it from A to B safely is the key to civilization. Using your credit card to buy things, getting cash from an ATM, sending an e-mail, paying bills or purchasing things online. Encryption these days is strictly about numbers and their length. The strongest system is based on asymmetric public key cryptography. It’s the only thing that makes electronic transmissions, from government to commercial to private citizens safe and thus viable.”
“I think I’ve heard of it. RSA or something?”
“Right. Now, the standard public key is typically a very large prime number hundreds of digits long that would take a hundred million PCs, working in parallel several thousand years, to figure out the two factors. However, while everyone knows the public key number, or at least your computer does, the only way to read what’s being sent is by unlocking the public key using the two private keys. Those keys are the two prime factors of the public key and only your computer software knows what they are. To use a simple example, the number fifty might be the public key and ten and five would be the private keys. If you know the numbers ten and five you can read the transmission.”
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