Not just yet. Therell be a lot more when Jack and Teddy report.
Naomi nods to herself, musing, and I can almost hear her brain humming as she shifts through scenarios and alternatives. This is a bit delicate, but theres something we need to keep in mind. She hesitates.
Shoot, I urge her. Im a big girl, I can take it.
My concern is with Jack Delancey. Hell be our main investigator on this case-he expects no less-but the circumstances are such that he may be compromised.
Excuse me?
Friendship can do that. He and Shane go way back, and Jack holds him in the highest regard. Clearly he cant bring himself to consider the possibility that Randall Shane might be playing us.
Wait. You really think he killed this professor guy?
Ive no idea, but Im keeping an open mind. The facts must lead us, not our hearts.
So why arent you telling this to Jack instead of me?
Naomi grimaces slightly, as if made uneasy by what shes about to say. Because I want you to keep your eyes open. If you think Jack misses something crucial, whether accidentally or on purpose, you will report to me.
Im astonished. You want me to rat out Jack Delancey?
An unfortunate phrase. But yes, if the situation warrants it, thats exactly what I expect.
Chapter Four
Gradually he awakens, becomes aware on some primitive level that is sentient. At first there is no sense of self. Hes no more than an assemblage of pain, nerves firing from various locations on his large body, defining a vague shape. Hands painfully cramped, feet aching, joints smoldering. Something in the middle makes itself known, unpleasantly. A sack of bubbling acid? No, a stomach, seething. At one end, pounding, a brain held like a bruised yolk inside a damaged shell.
He has a name, if only he can find it.
Halfway to forever, the name finally surfaces, drifting lazily around the brain. He claims it, holds it tight. At some point Shane realizes that his eyes are open and the darkness is an actual darkness. His limbs are restrained by something soft and unyielding. Hes strapped down, elaborately, on a padded table. Testing the restraints, he measures his own unnatural weakness and surmises that hes been heavily drugged, possibly with muscle relaxants. Theyll be watching, whoever they are. Darkness being no barrier with the right equipment. He stops struggling and waits, knowing they will come, eventually, and that he must prepare himself.
The rest of forever goes by. As more memories surface he replays recent conversations, examines decisions, finds himself wanting. How could he have been so wrong?
At last, from deep inside the darkness, a voice. Joseph Keener.
Behind him somewhere, and then closer, much closer. Close enough to feel the air move in a reedy whisper. Professor Joseph Keener. What did he know?
Shane attempts to speak, discovers that his tongue will not respond.
Louder. What did Joe know?
Eventually it becomes a kind of chant.
Chapter Five
At 6:00 p.m. precisely we convene in the library for the first case briefing, which is always a big deal. Naomi is a stickler for being on time, so the protocol is to show up a minute or two early, take your seat and try to sit up straight. Boss lady is never there to begin with; she always makes an entrance, and this evening is no exception. The other notable entrance of the evening belongs to Dane Porter, our attorney. Dane is five foot nothing, but feisty, and has a legal mind thats the antidote to every blond joke. How many blond lawyers does it take to keep Naomi Nantz and her team out of jail when they overstep the bounds? Exactly one.
Sorry I missed all the excitement, Dane says, sauntering in on spike heels that should be registered as weapons. Shes wearing a hand-tailored power suit-wide pinstripes on a dark blue background, trim lapels, a tight-vested waist-and a custom-made handbag given to her by a female hip-hop artist (a famous one, who shall remain nameless here because she likes handguns) who happens to dance to the same music as the lovely lawyer.
Was it really a helicopter attack? Men on ropes? she asks Jack, who is busy examining his well-buffed nails.
Thats affirmative, he says.
Alice? Dane says, flashing me a radiant smile. Tell me lover boy is joking.
Never saw the helicopter, I say, but there were definitely men on ropes. With guns.
How exciting!
Good evening, Counselor, says Naomi, entering with laptop in hand. She takes the temporary command seat, directly across the table from me.
As usual it will be my job to take meticulous notes in my personal shorthand, in a form known only to myself, and to keep a precise chronology of the ongoing investigation, updated on a daily and sometimes hourly basis. The active case briefings are never, ever electronically recorded for a variety of reasons, legal and otherwise. The idea is to prevent criminals we might be investigating-or interested law enforcement agencies-from hacking into our system and determining what we know at any given moment. Its not paranoia, because it actually happened on an earlier case, hence the precautions.
We convene this evening in extraordinary circumstances, Naomi begins. A man was kidnapped from this premises by agents unknown, possibly for the purposes of enhanced interrogation. We have as yet no clue as to his whereabouts, his state of health or who, exactly, is holding him. This is intolerable, and tonight we begin the process of finding out what happened and why. Teddy, youll present first. Start with the murder victim.
Teddys hands shake slightly as he presses a key on his laptop. An image lights up the screen. Joseph Vincent Keener, he announces, gathering confidence. Age forty-two. Born, Hanover, New Hampshire.
Were looking at a head shot of Joseph Keener, wearing an ill-fitting suit and tie. A round, unremarkable face. Heavy black-rimmed glasses and just a hint of jowls, despite a scrawny neck that doesnt quite fill his shirt collar. High forehead with the beginnings of pattern baldness thinning his light brown hair. His ears stick out, making him look oddly vulnerable. Hes not smiling and was glancing to the side and slightly down when the shutter clicked. Even in a formal head shot with studio lighting he seems to be lost in a world of his own.
Were looking at a head shot of Joseph Keener, wearing an ill-fitting suit and tie. A round, unremarkable face. Heavy black-rimmed glasses and just a hint of jowls, despite a scrawny neck that doesnt quite fill his shirt collar. High forehead with the beginnings of pattern baldness thinning his light brown hair. His ears stick out, making him look oddly vulnerable. Hes not smiling and was glancing to the side and slightly down when the shutter clicked. Even in a formal head shot with studio lighting he seems to be lost in a world of his own.
Theres a moment of awkward silence. Were looking at a dead man.
Teddy says, Keener was a ward of the state-his parents, both talented musicians, died in an accident-and he was raised in a succession of foster homes from infancy. Somehow he managed to get himself enrolled at Caltech, age fifteen, which pretty much says it all. Language skills pretty average, but mathematical concepts and theoretical geometry are off the charts. When Shane called him a genius he wasnt exaggerating. After Caltech, Joseph Keener came back East to pursue doctoral studies in quantum physics at MIT and was eventually made a full professor. Theres no mention of a marriage, or indeed of any family at all. Professor Keener is widely published, and considered something of a recluse with a possible social interaction deficit, but at MIT thats not exactly unusual. His lectures are well attended, and despite a shyness that causes him to avert his eyes while in conversation, Professor Keener is able to take questions and lead discussions with his brilliant and often challenging students. Thats a quote, more or less.
A quote, Jack says, puzzled. Whered you get it? You didnt leave the residence, correct? Didnt interview any associates?
Theres a site for student evals.
Evals?
Evaluations, Teddy explains. Some were real flamers, others seemed fair and balanced. But they all commented on Professor Keeners social awkwardness, one way or another.
Jack nods, gives him a thumbs-up. Way to go, kid. That would have taken me at least a days worth of shoe leather.
Teddy tries to hide his grin, but it doesnt take a rocket scientist (or a physicist for that matter) to see that hes pleased. For the first month or so on the job he was so intimidated by the former FBI agent that he avoided him whenever possible. To be fair it took dapper Jack a while to get used to Teddys fashion statements, in particular the piercings, which he refers to as staples, as in, hey kid, whats with the staple in your cheek? Lately they seem to have entered a zone of mutual tolerance and now, perhaps, collegial respect.
In addition to teaching full-time at MIT, Professor Keener helped found QuantaGate, an R amp; D firm in Waltham, out on 128.
Sounds familiar, Naomi muses. A defense contractor, I believe.
Teddy looks startled. Correct. Something to do with developing a quantum computer, which as far as I know is pretty much still theoretical. The stuff on the Net is very vague, mostly PR postings about the founding of the company. If we want more specifics on what exactly theyre working on, or how far theyve gotten, Id have to get into the DOD.
Naomis eyes glint. You will absolutely not attempt to hack into the Department of Defense, is that understood?
Oh yeah, understood, Teddy says, without really backing down. I understand I could do it, but you dont want me to.
Naomi says, A quantum computer, theoretical or not, would be of interest to any number of covert agencies from any number of countries. Its probable thats what Shane referred to as a top-secret project. Well come back to that, but for now lets stick with the victims bio. You say you found no mention of Professor Keener being the father of a five-year-old boy?
No, Teddy says. Not by the students or the staff. They pretty much peg him as an SWG. Thats, um, Single White Geek in eval shorthand. Professor Keeners biweekly deduction for the university medical is for a single plan, and there are no births registered naming him as a father in any databases. From what I can tell this kid is so missing he doesnt exist.