Suicide, Inc

CHAPTER 25

“You ought to cultivate the ability to relax,” suggested Cruz, who was reclining in a wicker armchair in the shady arbor at the rear of their countryhouse.

Smith was pacing the grass, twisting a short length of vine between his fingers. “Saint’s overdue,” he said.

“No doubt he dallied to kiss a few hands. These charity bazaars draw exactly the sort of well-to-do matrons among whom he shines. No need to-”

“Here he comes.”

The green man was sauntering toward them from the direction of the house. “One sincerely hopes one hasn’t kept all and sundry waiting,” he said. “I paused within to shower and change.”

“Did you get into Horizon House?”

Saint, who was wearing a two-piece off-white lounge-suit, arranged himself on a neowood bench and, carefully, crossed his legs. “All went according to plan,” he answered. “I had a peek at Mrs. Westerland’s parlor, Jennifer’s study and both the Horizon House computer rooms. I had to temporarily incapacitate one robot butler, two robot guards and an android housemaid who was actually named Fifi. None, of course, will recall my brief intrusion.”

“So now you can, since you’ve had a look at the layouts, teleport anything that’s in-”

“By the bye, I caught a glimpse of Jennifer,” added Saint. “She’s looking rather wan and-”

“Mrs. Westerland’s files first,” Smith told him.

Nodding, Saint locked his hands over one knee and shut his eyes. “Won’t take a moment,” he promised.

There was a faint popping, then a thin plazcovered folder materialized on the bench beside him.

“Better allow me to peruse it first,” offered Cruz, reaching over to pick it up. “In case it contains the triggering phrase, Jared. Just looking at it might cause you to pop into a trance state.”

“Go ahead.”

Cruz settled back into his chair, leafed through the several sheets of faxpape. “Only one item of interest herein,” he announced finally. “Triplan, Ltd. is actually owned by Mrs. Westerland, Jennifer Arloff and her husband. Seems the late Doctor Westerland formed this company on the sly some years ago.” He closed the folder, passed it over to Smith.

Taking it, Smith told Saint, “See what you can find in Jennifer’s study.”

“Yes, I know exactly what’s wanted from therein.” Concentrating again, he produced a plazcovered book.

Cruz checked through that first. Finishing, he coughed into his metal fist. “These are safe for you to scan, Jared,” he said. “They do, however, present us with a source of perplexity.”

“How so?”

“These are Jennifer’s confidential memos to herself on the recent phases of the quest for her father’s lost secret.” Cruz tapped the book against his thigh. “According to these only three people know about the secret in all its aspects. That’s Jennifer, her mother and Arloff.”

“Jove, then one of the three has to be the person who’s doublecrossing Triplan,” said Saint, “selling tips to Syndek and sending Larzon on to glory, eh.”

“We got hold of this information,” Smith reminded him. “That means someone else could’ve, too.”

“It wasn’t anyone from Syndek,” said Cruz. “I confirmed that with Bjorn. They haven’t as yet tapped any Triplan or Horizon House sources of information.”

Saint said, “I can’t swear to this, yet I’m near certain no one except myself has been probing Triplan or Horizon House.”

“How do you know that?”

He rubbed at his curly orange hair. “One can sense that sort of thing, old man. Obviously I’m not completely certain, since it’s a feeling rather than-”

“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” said Smith. “Why would any of these people doublecross the others?”

“Money’s always a good motive,” mentioned Cruz.

“Meaning that if one of them got the secret all to himself, there wouldn’t be any splitting of profits.”

“And Syndek could probably be blamed.”

“I’d hazard a guess,” said Saint, “that Arloff is the most likely candidate. I find it difficult to accept your Jennifer betraying her own mother.”

“She’s not my Jennifer, but I agree. She and her parents were very close, loyal and-”

“I wouldn’t rule anyone out,” put in Cruz.

“Even so,” said Smith, “I’d better arrange to meet with Jennifer. We have to talk.”

Cruz eyed him for a few silent seconds. “You still haven’t gotten over-”

“If her husband’s working against her, I have to mention that fact to her, Cruz.”

“She won’t believe you, old chum. I’ve known a lot of other men’s wives in my time and this seems like-”

“Now get me whatever the computers have on Annalee Kitchen,” Smith told the green man.

“Yes, have that in a jiffy.” He closed his eyes tight. A moment later several sheets of yellow faxpape were in his hands. Saint glanced through the material. “Yes, this is an account of the extracting of the portion of the secret that the Kitchen woman carried in her head. The information itself is also here, along with the triggering phrase. Which phrase is a sequence of numbers not words.”

Smith told him, “Read the numbers off to me and then write down what I say once I go into my trance or whatever.”

“You’d best sit down first, old man.”

Smith took a wicker chair. “Go ahead,” he said.