After dinner while Nikki watched television, David and Angela began the chore of going through the computer data. David was progressively amazed and appalled at the wealth of the material accessible to hackers.
“This will take us days,” David complained.
“Maybe we should concentrate on those with connections to the hospital,” Angela said. “There are only five.”
“Good idea,” David said.
Like Angela, David found the criminal information the most provocative. He was particularly taken by the news that Clyde Devonshire had not only served time for rape but had also been arrested in Michigan for loitering outside Jack Kevorkian’s house. Assisted suicide and euthanasia shared some philosophical justifications. David wondered if Devonshire could be their “angel of mercy.”
David was also amazed to learn that Peter Ullhof had been arrested six times outside Planned Parenthood centers and three times outside of abortion clinics, once for assault and battery of a doctor.
“This is interesting,” Angela said. She was looking through the social security material. “All five of these people served in the military, including Claudette Maurice. That’s a coincidence.”
“Maybe that’s why they all have tattoos,” David said.
Angela nodded. She remembered Robert’s comment about tattoos being a rite of passage.
After helping Nikki do her respiratory therapy, they put her to bed. Then they returned downstairs and brought the computer printouts into the family room. They began to sift through again, creating a separate pile for each of the five hospital workers.
“I expected Calhoun to have called by now,” Angela said. “I was looking forward to getting his opinion on some of this information, particularly regarding Clyde Devonshire.”
“Calhoun’s an independent sort,” David said. “He said he’d call when he had something to tell us.”
“Well, I’m going to give him a call,” Angela said. “We have something to tell him.”
Angela only got Calhoun’s answering machine. She didn’t leave a message.
“One of the things that surprises me,” David said when Angela was off the phone, “is how often these people have changed jobs.” David was going over the social security data.
Angela moved next to him and looked over his shoulder. All at once she reached over and took a paper that David was about to put on Van Slyke’s pile.
“Look at this,” she said, pointing to an entry. “Van Slyke was in the navy for twenty-one months.”
“So?” David questioned.
“Isn’t that unusual?” Angela asked. “I thought the shortest stint in the navy was three years.”
“I don’t know,” David said.
“Let’s look at Devonshire’s service record,” Angela said. She leafed through Devonshire’s pile until she found the appropriate page.
“He was in for four and a half years.”
“My God!” David exclaimed. “Will you listen to this? Joe Forbs has declared personal bankruptcy three times. With that kind of history, how can he get a credit card? But he has. Each time he’s gotten all new cards at another institution. Amazing.”
By eleven o’clock, David was struggling to keep his eyes open. “I’m afraid I have to go to bed,” he said. He tossed the papers he had in his hand onto the table.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Angela said. “I’m bushed too.”
They went upstairs arm in arm, feeling satisfied they’d accomplished so much in one day. But they might not have slept so soundly had they any inkling of the firestorm their handiwork had ignited.