Донна Эндрюс - Access denied

Tim sat in the corner, behind Maude's guest table, which was piled high with the various papers they'd been studying the day before. He still looked dazed, and Maude wondered if he was really fascinated by the papers or only pretending to be so he didn't have to talk all that much.

"I should have done more," Turing was saying, for about the hundredth time, as Sam came in.

"You did everything you could," Maude said. "We'd probably be dead if not for your trick with the speakers."

"And you went though two laptops doing it," Tim said. "Wasn't there some Civil War general who had two horses shot out from under him?"

"William Tecumseh Sherman at the Battle of Shiloh," Sam said. "But you have to be careful how you bring him up. Lots of folks in Georgia are still a mite peeved with him."

"Somehow I don't think it's quite the same thing," Turing said.

A good thing Sam was here, Maude thought, to give Turing something else to think about.

Access Denied E37

"So, how much trouble are we in?" she asked aloud.

"You don't deserve to get away with some of what you pulled," Sam said. "But the police are reasonably happy."

"Fairfax or Loudoun?" Maude asked.

"Both."

"You're sure?" Turing asked.

"Positive," Sam said. "A pity Claudia left her job at PRS—I understand this morning's raid by the police was entertaining, not to mention satisfactory from an evidentiary point of view. And while the complete ballistics report will take time, judging from the preliminary findings, they expect to find that Ishmael's gun also killed Tayloe Blake and Tim's friend Nikki.

"Ishmael," Maude said. "Is that really his name?"

"One of the ones he's used," Sam said. "Apparently among his many past sins, he's done jail time for using stolen credit cards. Of course, he actually held people up at gunpoint and physically took their cards, but I guess the cops figure that even muggers are automating these days."

"Hmph," Maude said, shaking her head.

"Well, don't knock it," Sam said. "They haven't decided whether Ishmael was in cahoots with Blake and Evans and they had a falling out, or whether he thought they were poaching on his turf and resented it, but they're not bothering us. They found their killer, and if they have a notion that there's something more going on in the background, they don't have the time, resources, or inclination to keep digging."

"Probably because the FBI has made it clear that they plan to do that," Maude said, frowning. "I suspect Dan Nor-ris isn't too happy, but if the police are satisfied, I doubt if there's anything he can do."

"At least not at the moment," Turing said.

"He can come and interrogate you some more," Sam said. "I bet he'd like that."

"You've been talking to Claudia," Maude said.

"He seems like a nice guy," Sam said. "Too bad he's FBI."

"What's wrong with his being FBI?" Tim asked, looking up.

"I had a coworker who dated one," Sam said. "Weird hours, way too much travel, and even when he was around, he couldn't ever talk about his job."

"Hmph," Maude said. "When it comes to not talking about the job, Dan Norris has nothing on me."

"Well, see, you have something in common," Sam said. "You could sit around and not talk about your jobs together. Anyway, what I wanted to tell you was that it looks as if we're out of the woods. At least as far as difficulties from the police are concerned."

"Well, that's some consolation," Maude said.

"Some consolation?" Tim exclaimed. "It's great! What's wrong now?"

"What's wrong is that we still don't know what really happened," Turing said. "Or, rather, we know what happened—Nestor Garcia ordered several things on his own credit card and sent them to one of the addresses Kyle Evans and Tayloe Blake were using for their fraud scheme. And then Garcia had them killed—Blake when he showed up to collect packages, and Evans as soon as Garcia located him. Or as soon as we located him, which probably saved Garcia the trouble. But we still don't really know why any of it happened."

"I like the theory that Evans and Blake had accidentally stumbled into running a scam that this Garcia character was—and still is—operating on a much larger scale," Sam said. "And Garcia had them killed as a warning to other would-be competitors."

"I prefer the notion that Garcia was trying to cause trouble for us," Maude said. "That he knew we were watching, and

Access Denied ?3 C \

hoped that by drawing us in, he could force Turing into the open or find a way to gain access to her. And the fact that he could sic the FBI on us at the same time was gravy."

"Both good theories," Turing said. "In fact, I like the theory that Garcia was trying to do both. He tried to use Blake and Evans to cause us problems that would lead to my exposure, and with us around, he didn't have to hunt down Evans—all he had to do was sit back and watch until we found him. Garcia tried to kill two birds with one stone, and nearly succeeded. But that still leaves the question of why he used his own credit card to do this."

"One thing bothers me," Maude said. "What Ishmael said when he was about to shoot us. A message from an old friend, he called it."

"Whatever you were trying to pull with that credit card stunt—it hasn't done you any good," Turing quoted. "If you were trying to set a trap, looks like it backfired on you, doesn't it?"

"That's it," Maude said. "We assumed it was a message from Nestor Garcia, but it doesn't make sense."

"Maybe it does," Tim said, slowly. "If Garcia didn't start it."

"Didn't start what?" Maude asked, frowning at him.

"Didn't start using his card," Tim said. "I think he got sucked in, just like us. Look at this order from Half.com." he said, holding up a paper. "Didn't anyone think it was odd that these crooks were ordering secondhand books, CDs, and DVDs? They were buying stuff to resell, remember? I mean, we all complain about how expensive books are these days, but it's not as if there's a big black market in them or anything. Especially used ones."

"I assumed they were books they wanted, and they decided to steal rather than buy them," Maude said. "A small perk of having unlimited use of their victims' cards."

"Yeah, but look at the titles of the books," Tim said. "Okay, I can see one of these guys ordering a DVD of Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, but a kid's book called Sisters'? A biography of Alan Turing? A CD of Jackson Browne's I'm Alive? And a CD single of'Rescue Me'?"

"T2," Turing said.

"Yes," Tim said. "Your sister, or clone, or whatever we're calling her. The whole order could be a giant set of clues."

"She was trying to send us a message," Turing said. "And we ignored it."

"We didn't ignore it," Tim said. "It just took us a little longer than it should have to decipher it.

"I need to study this," Turing said. "What if there's some information in the titles of the other books, or possibly the other orders placed with Garcia's card? Something that tells us where she is."

But from the silence that followed, Maude deduced that Turing wasn't finding her clone's message easy to decipher.

"Let me know what you find out," Sam said, standing up and stretching. "I'm going to go home and sleep for a couple of years."

"Let me help you with that," Maude said, picking up Sam's bulging briefcase.

They strolled out, past this week's founder's portrait— Ingrid Bergman as Joan of Arc.

"So what is it you want to tell me, and who don't you want to hear it," Sam said, when they were in the parking lot.

"Was I that transparent?"

"Only to me, I suspect. So spill."

"Okay," Maude said, as she shoved the case into the trunk. "One thing worries me."

"Only one?" Sam said. "I wish my life were that serene."