Simple Genius (18 page)

JOAN DILLINGER SCREAMED AT HIM for a full two minutes, though it felt longer. She even played the guilt card.

“I went out on a limb for you, Sean. And this,
this
is how you repay me?”

“I didn’t return your calls because I didn’t have anything to report. What’s the big deal?”

“I’ll tell you what the big deal is. My boss got a call from no one less than the DDO at Central Intelligence telling him in no uncertain terms that we better back the hell off, and he named
you
as one of the chief offenders.
The Deputy Director of Operations for God’s sake!”

“Ian Whitfield didn’t waste any time getting that done. I wonder how he knew your firm was on the case.”

“They’re the CIA, Sean, they can find out things. Hell, half the people at my firm worked at Langley at some point.”

“I can’t stop the police from investigating a murder, Joan.”

“Oh and that’s another thing. So you’re telling me that you’re now affiliated with the police?”

“It gets me into places I wouldn’t otherwise be able to, which increases the chances that I’ll find out the truth. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“Sean, when you were hired to do this job––”

Interrupting, he said, “Yeah, let’s get that straight right now. Who hired us?”

“Len Rivest.”

“He’s only the head of security. Someone had to authorize him to hire your firm.”

“Well, did you think of asking him?”

“It doesn’t matter if I did or not now. He’s dead.”

“What!”

“He’s
dead.
I’m surprised the DDO failed to let that little tidbit slip.”

“I can’t believe it. Len was a good guy. We went way back.”

Sean said, “I’m sure you did; however, his status as a good guy has not been established in my mind.”

“What do you mean by that?” she said sharply.

“He was murdered, Joan. And in my experience people get murdered for one of two reasons.
One, because someone didn’t like them.
Two, because someone didn’t want them alive to talk.”

“You think Len was involved in Monk Turing’s death?”

“Murders so close together tend to be connected.”

“It hasn’t been established that Monk was murdered.”

“Technically, it hasn’t been established that Len was either, but I’m sure that he was. And by the way, someone took a couple of shots at me. I think they came from the vicinity of Camp Peary.”

“Good God, all this happened and you never called me?”

“I’ve been busy. So getting back to my original question: Who hired us?”

“I don’t know.”

“Joan, I’m tired and I’m totally pissed off at the world. So don’t play games with me. Len Rivest said, ‘countries would go to war’ for whatever they’re doing here.”

“He said that?”

“And you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t. I swear, Sean. From the little I knew of the case, I figured you’d pull a few days down there and it would be concluded that Turing killed himself on Camp Peary grounds. It’s happened before, you know.”

“Yeah, Ian Whitfield enlightened me on that point. But the dynamic has changed now with Rivest’s death.”

“
If
they are connected.”

“My gut tells me they are.”

“Then I’m sending down reinforcements.”

“I’ve already got someone.”

There was a long pause and then Joan hissed. “Are you telling me that
she’s
down there with you?”

“Who, Mildred?”

“Michelle effing Maxwell!” she screamed so loudly that Sean had to pull the cell phone away from his ear.

“That’s right,” he replied calmly. “She just showed up and reported for duty.”

“She does
not
work for this firm.”

“I know. I’m subcontracting the work out to her.”

“You have no authority to do that.”

“Actually, I do. I’m an independent contractor to your firm. In paragraph fifteen, subsection d of the contract I signed with your company it gives me the latitude to consult with assets that I deem appropriate to the task so long as payment for such assets comes out of my fees.”

“You actually read the contract?”

“I always read the contract, Joan. So maybe together we can get to the bottom of this thing. I’ve also got another friend coming down, a psychologist by the name of Horatio Barnes.”

“Why? Or am I not entitled under the contract to
question
your choice of assets?”

“Monk Turing’s young daughter,” he said simply. “She found out a little while ago that her father’s dead and went hysterical. And she’s also not so easy to communicate with on the best of days. But I think Horatio may be able to get through to her.”

Apparently having resigned herself to these developments Joan said, “Do you think the girl may know something about her father’s death?”

“Right now it’s one of the few leads we have.”

“Sean, risking your life is not in the job description.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“On the other hand, tell
Mildred
she’d look positively stunning eating a large-caliber bullet meant for you.”

“Doubtless she already knows your feelings on the subject.”

Sean put the phone
down,
collapsed back on his bed fully clothed and fell asleep. He had no concerns for his personal safety now. The A team was right across the hall. It was probably a good thing he couldn’t see how scared and confused his
A
team was. The man would not have slept nearly so soundly.

WHEN HORATIO BARNES ARRIVED early the next morning Champ was not as accommodating as he had been to Michelle.

“We are not a resort!” Champ exploded.

“But I think he can help Viggie,” Sean said.

“Then he can do it from a distance, damn it. This is a highly secure facility full of highly confidential research and I don’t even know who this man is.”

“I can vouch for him. And you let Michelle stay here,” Sean countered. “You don’t know her either. So what’s the difference?”

Champ snapped, “No!”
And stalked off.

Horatio was relegated to a bed-and-breakfast in the nearby town of White Feather.

Michelle thankfully was not up yet so Sean borrowed a car and followed Horatio to White Feather. After Horatio checked in the two men sat in the dining room having a cup of coffee.

“Nice area,” Horatio said. “Except for all the people being slaughtered, I might’ve considered retiring down here.”

“Tell me about Tennessee,” Sean prompted.

When Horatio had finished, Sean said, “What’s a whacked rose hedge got to do with Michelle’s problems?”

“I don’t know if it has any connection.” He studied Sean over his cup of coffee. “So how’s our girl doing?”

“Seems to be in fine form.
She hit the ground running.”

“That might not last. So talk to me about Viggie.”

Sean did so and Horatio sat back. “This doesn’t sound like it will be easy. How do you want to play it? This Champ chump won’t let me on the grounds.”

“I can bring Viggie here. Alicia will okay it. She really cares about the girl.”

“Good. Did you tell Michelle I was coming?”

“No, but she’ll find out soon enough. When I explain it’s for Viggie’s benefit I think it’ll be okay. She seems to have bonded really quickly with her.”

“That could be telling in certain respects,” Horatio said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe I can work two birds with one stone.”

When Sean returned to Babbage Town he found Michelle in the dining hall talking with Champ. Viggie hovered at one end of the long table chewing what looked like soggy Cheerios.

When Champ spotted Sean he rose from the table. “I hope you understand why your friend couldn’t stay here.”

“What friend?” Michelle said quickly.

“Horatio Barnes,” Sean answered bluntly.

When Champ noted Michelle’s astonished reaction to this he seemed taken aback. “If you’ll excuse me,” he stammered and hurried off.

After Champ left, Michelle snapped, “Why the hell is Barnes here?”

“For Viggie.
We need somebody who can get through to her.”

“And you had to call in the guy who locked me up and then walked away? I can’t believe you would do that, Sean.”

“He didn’t lock you up. You went into the facility voluntarily. And he didn’t walk away from you.”

“What are you talking about? He vanished.”

“He went to Tennessee.”

Michelle’s features became so hard that it looked like she’d been frozen.

After nearly a minute of silence had passed she said quietly, “Why would he go to Tennessee?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t appreciate you of all people playing games with me.”

“Okay. He went to Tennessee to find the place where you lived when you were six years old.”

“I don’t believe this shit!”

Neither of them noticed the heads of people at other tables turning toward them as their voices rose.

“According to your brother you had an abrupt personality change that year.”

“I was a kid!”

“Come on, Michelle, what happened?”

“Nothing!
Do you remember when
you
were six years old?”

Sean suddenly realized what he was doing. He was, in fact, screwing everything up. He was intruding on Horatio’s jurisdiction, asking Michelle incredibly personal questions in an incredibly clumsy fashion in front of strangers. “No, I don’t,” he said hastily. “I’m sorry.” His contrite tone seemed to deflate the anger in her a little. They both looked up to see Viggie eying them, her features full of uncertainty. Michelle immediately sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“
It’s
okay, Viggie, just a little disagreement, we have them all the time.” She said sharply to Sean, “Don’t we?”

Sean nodded.
“All the time.”
He got up and joined them.

Viggie was dressed in denim overalls, her hair done up in the usual pigtails. Michelle noted that the girl’s fingernails had been bitten down completely.

Sean said, “She has to go to class. They have a school here for workers with families. It’s right down the hall in the mansion.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve arranged to have a guard sit with her. We’ll be back before class lets out.”

“Back, back from where?”

“You’ll see.”

THEY DROPPED VIGGIE OFF in the schoolroom. Before they left Viggie, Michelle and Sean spoke to her teacher, a middle-aged woman.

“A special case,” the teacher said about Viggie. “But on her good days she’s as brilliant as any student I’ve ever had.”

“Alicia Chadwick says she can factor large numbers in her head,” Sean said.

“Exactly.
Can you imagine being able to see millions, if not billions of numbers neatly lined up in your mind’s eye?”

Sean said, “No, I can’t. I actually have trouble remembering my own phone number.”

They left Viggie with her teacher and guard and headed out. In the hall they ran into Alicia Chadwick.

“She’s safe in the school,” Sean told her and then explained about Horatio. “Maybe he can help her.”

“Get through the ordeal of her father’s death?” Alicia asked, casting him a sharp glance. “Or something else?”

“Alicia, if she knows anything about Monk’s death we need to find that out. The sooner
we
find out the less important Viggie becomes to a killer.”

Alicia said, “Okay, let’s do it.”

As Sean and Michelle walked the grounds of the mansion, he said, “The place was built by a guy who made a fortune selling people canned food packed full of crap that probably killed as many consumers as not.”

“I didn’t see any sign with the name Babbage Town.”

“Funny, neither did
I
.” He went over the hut system with her and then gave Michelle a more detailed rundown of his conversation with Champ and the quantum computer.

“I’ve got Joan digging on who owns this place. Say what you want about her, she’s really good at that.”

“Most animals with claws are,” Michelle shot back.

They eventually came to stand in front of Turing’s now empty cottage. “FBI Special Agent with-a-bad-attitude Michael Ventris took all the stuff but I’m having Joan run down where Monk might have traveled to.”

“You said Alicia mentioned it was overseas?”

“She just didn’t know where.”

He took her to Len Rivest’s cottage next.

“Did you check Champ’s alibi on the night Rivest was killed?” she asked.

“Computer says he clocked in Hut Number Two at eleven-thirty and punched out at three in the morning. So whoever I saw around two in the morning, it wasn’t him.”

“And since it looks like Rivest had been dead for at least five hours when you found him, that rules Champ out.”

“Suspects come, suspects go,” Sean said with a sigh.

They next walked down to the boathouse. Michelle ran an expert’s eye over the watercraft. “Nothing too exceptional, mostly recreational,” she pronounced. She motioned to a twenty-six-foot Formula Bowrider up on a boat lift in one of the slips. “One of the owners of this place must be a New Yorker.”

Sean looked at the name stenciled on the stern transom: “The Big Apple.” He pointed across the river.
“How long to row across?
Not for someone like you, I mean an ordinary mortal.”

She considered this. “Not knowing the current, I’d say at least forty-five minutes or so. It always looks closer on land. When you’re sloughing through the water, it’s a lot farther.”

“So there and back we’re talking over two hours, considering you’d probably be rowing slower on the way back.”

“That’s right.”

He led her through the woods to the spot where Camp Peary could be seen. Michelle pulled a pair of binoculars from her backpack and focused them.

The sun was glancing off the shiny fence surrounding the CIA’s property.

“Heck of a shot at you,” she said, studying the distance and trajectory.

“Yeah, well let’s be happy it wasn’t a
helluva
shot or I wouldn’t be here.”

She pointed to her left at the break in the tree line.
“Runway?”

“Yep.”

She looked at the large cranes farther down the river.
“Navy?”
Sean nodded. “Where’d they find his body?”

“As best I can figure out, right about there.”
He pointed to a wooded spot about five hundred yards down from the runway.

“So the thing is, if Monk went over there voluntarily and not just to kill himself, then he either went to meet someone, or to spy on the place and someone got the jump on him,” she said.

“Right, but if he went to spy on the place the CIA had every right to shoot him. So why cover it up to make it look like suicide?”

“Well, maybe it was suicide after all,” Michelle said.

“But what about Rivest? He was most definitely murdered.”

“Unconnected to Monk’s death,” she said simply.

Sean didn’t look as confident.
“Maybe.”

As they walked back Sean abruptly said, “Look, I should’ve given you a heads-up that Horatio was coming down. I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“Forget it,” she replied. But she said it in a way that Sean knew she would never forget it.