purchases. Parking stock in it, merging fund accounts with his
own-moving money around hourly. Playing with it. He buys and sells
under scores of aliases that change daily. Hunaredi of transactions
daily.”
“Lots of commission for him?”
“Lots. Plus, it makes it incredibly difficult to keep track of him.”
“But you have.”
He nodded, still flushed-the hunter’s glow. “It’s taken me four and a
half years but I’ve finally gained access to his data banks, and so
far, he doesn’t know it. There’s no reason for him to suspect he’s
being watched, because normally the government doesn’t pay any
attention to nonprofit pension funds. If he hadn’t made some mistakes
with some of the corporations he killed, he’d be home free, in
fiduciary heaven.”
“What kinds of mistakes?”
“Not important,” Huenengarth barked.
I stared at him.
He forced himself to smile and held out one hand. “The point is, his
shell’s finally cracked and I’m prying it open-getting exquisitely
close to shattering it. It’s a crucial moment, Doctor. That’s why I
get cranky when people start following me. Understand? Now, are you
satisfied?”
“Not really.”
He stiffened. “What’s your problem?”
A couple of murders, for starts. Why did Laurence Ashmore and Dawn
Herbert die?”
Ashmore,” he said, shaking his head. Ashmore was a weird bird. A
doctor who actually understood economics and had the technical skills
to put his knowledge to use. He got rich, and like most rich people he
started to believe he was smarter than anyone else. So smart he didn’t
have to pay his share of taxes. He got away with it for a while, but
the IRS finally caught on. He could’ve gone to jail for a long TIME
So I helped” “Go west, young swindler,” I said. “He was your hacker
into Jones’s data, wasn’t he? The perfect wedge-an M.D. who doesn œ
see patients. Was his degree real?”
“Hundred percent.”
“You bought him a job with a million-dollar grant, plus overhead.
Basically, the hospital got paid to hire him.”
He gave a satisfied smile. “Greed. Works every TIME
“You’re IRS?” I said.
Still smiling, he shook his head. “Very occasionally, one tentacle
strokes the other.”
“What’d you do? Just put your order in to the IRS? Give me a
physician in tax trouble who also has computer skills-and they filled
it?”
“It wasn’t that simple. Finding someone like Ashmore took a long TIME
And finding him was one of the factors that helped convince. . . my
superiors to fund my project.”
“Your superiors,” I said. “The Ferris Dixon Institute for Chemical
Research-FDlC. What does the R stand for?”
“Rip-off. It was Ashmore’s idea of a joke-everything was a game with
him. What he really wanted was something that conformed to PBGC the
Paul Bowles Garden Club was his favorite. He prided himself on being
literary. But I convinced him to be subtle.”
“Who’s Professor Walter William Zimberg? Your boss? Another
hacker?”
“No one,” he said. “Literally.”
“He doesn’t exist?”
“Not in any real sense.”
“Munchausen man,” Milo muttered.
Huenengarth shot him a sharp look.
I said, “He’s got an office at the University of Maryland. I spoke to
his secretary.”
He lifted his cup, took a long time drinking.
I said, “Why was itso important for Ashmore to work out of the
hospital?”
“Because that’s where Jones’s main terminal is. I wanted him to have
direct access to Jones’s hardware and ~~it~~~~~ “Jones is using the
hospital as a business center? He told me he doesn’t have an office
there.”
“Technically that’s true. You won’t see his name on any door.
But his apparatus is buried within some of the space he’s taken away
from the doctors.”
“Down in the sub-basement?”
“Let’s just say buried deeply. Somewhere hard to find. As head of
Security, I made sure of that.”
“Getting yourself in must have been quite a challenge.”
No answer.
“You still haven’t answered me,” I said. “Why’d Ashmore die?”
“I don’t know. Yet.”
“What’d he do?” I said. “Make an end-run around you? Use what he’d
learned working for you to extort money from Chuck Jones?”
He licked his lips. “It’s possible. The data he collected are still
being analyzed.”
“By whom?”